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THE
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HISTORY
or
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
BY M. A. THIERS,
LATE PRIME MINISTER OF FRANCE.
TRANSLATED,
WITH NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM THE
MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES,
BY
FREDERICK SHOBERL.
THIRD AMERICAN EDITION.
COMPLETE IN FOUR VOLUMES,
WITH ENGRAVINGS.
VOL. I. - "Z-
PHILADELPHIA:
CAREY AND HART.
ITIllOTVFID BY L. JOBXIOI.
18 42.
f :
768297-
C. SHERMAN AND <0., PRINTER
19, ST. JAME9 STREET. PHILA DELPHI A
CHRONOLOGY
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
1789.
May 5. Opening of the States-general at Versailles — The tiers-^tat, 601 deputies; nobles,
285; clergy, 308; total, 1254.
6. Division between the different orders respecting the mode of verifying their powers.
10. The electors of Paris declare themselves in permanent session.
23. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of the tiers-etat, the different orders meet sepa-
rately. The clergy and nobility communicate to the tiers-etat the renunciation of their
privileges, and submit to pay their proportion of the public burdens.
June 17. The deputies of the tiers-etat, already joined by some of the clergy, declare their
assembly to be the only legal one, and constitute themselves as The National Assembly.
The Assembly declares all the taxes illegally imposed, but it authorizes the levy of them
provisionally, only till the day of its first separation, from whatever cause that separa-
tion may proceed.
20. The Oath of the Tennis Court.
23. Royal Session of the States-general.
27. The union of the several Orders in the National Assembly.
30. The Parisians set at liberty the French guards imprisoned in the Abbaye.
July 2 — 9. A great number of troops collected around Paris.
11. Change of the ministry — Dismissal of Necker.
12. Riots in Paris. The Prince de Lambesc, at the head of the German dragoons, charges
the populace in the Tuileries. Camille-Desmoulins, in the garden of the Palais-Royal,
recommends an appeal to arms. The green cockade is assumed. Conflict between the
French Guards and a detachment of the Royal German regiment.
13. First organization of the militia of Paris. The barriers attacked and burnt.
14. Storming of the Bastille. Massacre of the governor De Launay and Flesselles, />rm>/
des marchands. The red and blue cockade (the city colours) substituted for the green
cockade.
15. The King and his brothers repair to the National Assembly. The troops collected
round Paris dismissed. Approval of the institutions of the national guard. The electors
nominate Bailly, mayor of Paris, and Lafayette, general-in-chief of the national guard.
16. Recall of Necker — Count d'Artois and the Prince de Conde emigrate.
17. The King proceeds to the Hotel de Ville of Paris. Bailly thus addresses him : " Sire,
I bring you the keys of the city of Paris ; they are the same which were presented to
Henry IV. He had reconquered his people ; the people have reconquered their King."
The assembled multitude applauded this address : the King assumed the red and blue
cockade. His presence quiets the tumult.
22. Fresh disturbances on account of the dearness of corn. Massacre of Foulon and of
Berthier de Sauvigny.
26. The tricoloured cockade adopted. On presenting it to the electors, Lafayette predicts
that it will make the tour of the world.
Aug. 1. The cannon of Chantilly, and of the lie-Adam, taken possession of and brought to
Paris.
4. The National Assembly decrees that the constitution shall be preceded by the declara-
tion of the rights of man and of the citizen. Spontaneous abolition of the feudal system,
and of all privileges in France.
18. DemocrAic insurrection at Liege.
iii
IV CHRONOLOGY OF THE
Aug. 23. Decree proclaiming liberty of opinions, religious as Well as political.
31. Suppression and dissolution of the French guards.
Sept. 9. The National Assembly declares itself to be permanently assembled.
10. It adopts as a principle that the legislative body shall consist of only one chamber.
Oct. 1. Declaration of the Rights of Man in society.
2. Entertainment given by the Life-guards, at Versailles.
5, 6. The populace at Versailles. The King and all his family are brought to Paris.
14. The Duke of Orleans quits Paris for a time and goes to England. #
19. The first sitting of the National Assembly at the archbishop's palace.
21. Decree conferring upon the tribunal of the Chatelet the cognizance of the crime of
high treason against the nation. Martial law introduced.
Nov. 2. Ecclesiastical property declared national property. The Abbe Maury, being threat-
ened with death a la lanterne, escapes, by saying to those who have come to attack him,
■ Well, and shall you see any the clearer for that, do you think 1"
6. Institution of the society of " The Friends of the Constitution," which subsequently
became " The Society of the Jacobins." The National Assembly transfers its place of
meeting to the Riding-house of the Tuileries.
Dec. 19. Creation of territorial assignats.
24. Decree declaring Frenchmen who are not Catholics admissible to all offices, both civil
and military.
* 1790.
Jan. 15. Division of France into eighty-three departments,
21. Equality of punishments enacted, whatever the rank of the culprits.
26. The Assembly forbids its members to accept any office under government
Feb. 13. Abolition of monastic vows. Suppression of the religious orders.
19. Execution of the Marquis de Favras, declared guilty of high treason.
20. Lafayette proclaims in the National Assembly, that, when oppression renders a revo-
lution necessary, inscrrection is the most sacred of ultiks.
March 1 6. Abolition of " Lettres de Cachet."
17. Appropriation of ecclesiastical property to the repayment of the assignats.
28. Suppression of the salt-tax.
April 1. Publication of the " Red Book." The secret expenses of the court had annually been
at the lowest, in 1787,82,000,000 livres; at the highest, in 1783, 145,000,000 livres.
29. Free trade in corn.
30. Institution of the jury.
May 10. Massacre of the patriots at Montauban.
12. Institution, by Lafayette and Bailly, of the Society of 1789, (afterwards the club of
the Feuillans,) to counterbalance the influence of the Jacobin club.
22. The Assembly decrees that the right of declaring war and making peace belongs to the
nation.
June 3. Insurrection of the blacks at Martinique.
9, 10. The civil list fixed at 25,000,000 livres.
19. Abolition of nobility.
July 10. Decree restoring to the heirs of Dissenters expelled by the edict of Nantes their
confiscated property not yet sold.
14. First National Federation.
Aug. 6. Abolition of the droits (Tauhaine (seizing the property of Aliens).
16. Justices of the peace instituted.
31. Revolt of the Swiss soldiers at Chateau- Vicux.
Sept. 4. Dismissal and Retreat of Necker.
6. Suppression of the parliaments.
10. Funding of the public debt.
29. Creation of 800.000,000 of forced assignats.
Oct 9. Insurrection of the mulattoes in St. Domingo.
Nov. 4. Insurrection in the Isle ot France.
27. Civil constitution of the clergy. Institution of the Tribunal of Caseation.
Dec 30. Institution of the patents for inventions.
1791.
Jan. 28. The French army is increased to the war establishment »
Feb. 12. Abolition of the monopoly for the cultivation of tobacco.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. V
Feb. 19. Monsieur (afterwards Louis XVIII.) gratifies the populace who surround his palace,
by assuring them that he will never emigrate.
28. The leaders of the populace proceed to Vincennes and attempt to massacre the prison-
ers. The day of the Daggers. The nobles with concealed arms assemble at the Tuile-
ries. The King, in order to prevent a conflict between them and the nntional guards,
commands them to lay down their arms. They obey ; and are afterwards insulted and
ill-used.
Aprils. 4. Death and funeral of Mirabeau.
23. Louis apprizes the foreign courts that he has taken the oath to observe the future con-
stitution.
May 4. Annexation of Avignon and of the Comtat Venaissin to France.
15. Admission of the free people of colour to an equality of political rights with the whites.
June 2. Louis XVI., being intimidated, gives his consent to many decrees from which he
had previously withheld it.
6. The decree passed, wresting from the King the privilege of pardoning criminals.
10. Louis XVI. secretly protests against the sanctions which he has given to decrees, and
also against those which he may hereafter give.
19. Robespierre is elected public accuser for the tribunal of the Seine.
21 — 25. Flight to and return from Varennes. The emigration of Monsieur.
26. The Life-guards disbanded.
July 6. Apj>eal of the Emperor Leopold to the sovereigns of Europe to unite for the deliver-
ance of Louis XVI.
7. Louis XVI. disavows the armaments equipping by the emigrants.
11. Petition for the King's dethronement. The remains of Voltaire transferred to the
Pantheon.
17. The unfurling of the red flag.
21. Institution for the deaf and dumb established.
25. Treaty of Berlin against France between Prussia and Austria.
30. Suppression of decorations and orders of knighthood.
Aug. 17. Decree enjoining emigrants to return to France.
27. Treaty of Pilnitz intended to consolidate the coalition.
Sept. 3 — 13. Completion and presentation of the constitution to the King.
1^ Louis XVI. accepts the constitution and swears to maintain it
'Z'J. Decree relati ie to the national guard.
20. Last sitting of the Constituent Assembly. This Assembly during the three years of
its existence, enacted 1309 laws and decrees relative to legislation or to the general
administration of the state.
Oct 1. First sitting of the Legislative Assembly.
5. Commencement of the famine. The farmers refuse to take assignats in payment for
corn. Decree taking from the King the titles of Sire and Your Majesty.
14. The King issues a proclamation to the emigrants exhorting them to rally round the
constitution.
16. He writes to his brothers to induce them to return to France. All the men of talent
in Europe are invited by the Assembly to communicate their opinions on the civil code.
The minister of war announces that 1900 officers have left their regiments and emi-
grated.
28. Decree requiring Monsieur to return to France within two months, upon the penalty
of being deprived of his right to the regency.
30. Massacres at Avignon. The slaughtered prisoners are thrown into an ice-pit
Nov. 12. The King refuses to sanction the decree against the emigrants.
17. Petion is elected mayor of Paris.
22. Port-au-Prince (St. Domingo) burnt
26. Chabot enters the King's presence with his hat on.
29. The Assembly requires the King to call upon the princes of the empire not to allow
the assembling of emigrants in their territories.
Dec 2. Manuel elected procureur-syndic of the commune.
14. The King announces to the Assembly that he will declare war, if the foreign courts
disregard his declarations in favour of the Revolution.
19. The King puts his veto to the decrees relative to priests who refuse to take the civic
oath.
20. Notification, in the name of the King, to the Elector of Treves to disperse the emi-
grants collected in his states.
31. The Assembly suppresses the ceremony usual on New Year's Day.
VI CHRONOLOGY OF THE
1792.
Jan. 1. The King's brothers, as emigrants, are decreed under accusation.
23, 24. First pillage of the grocers of Paris.
Feb. 7. Treaty between Austria and Prussia to quell the disturbance* in France.
9. The property of emigrants sequestrated.
March 1. Death of Leopold II. His son Francis succeeds him.
2. Institution of the King's constitutional guard.
3. Murder of the mayor of Etampes in the execution of his duty.
19. Amnesty granted to the assassins of Avignon.
28. Decree admitting men of colour and free negroes to the exercise of political rights.
29. Assassination of Gustavus III., King of Sweden.
30. Appropriation of the property of emigrants to defray the expenses of the war.
April 6. Suppression of religious communities. Prohibition of ecclesiastical costumes.
20. Declaration f>( war against Austria.
28. First hostilities and reverses in Belgium. General Theobald Dillon murdered by his
soldiers.
May 3. Decrees of accusation passed against Boyou, author of PAmi du Roi and Marat,
author of I'Ami du J'euple.
29. The King's paid guard disbanded. The National Assembly constitutes itself in per-
manent session.
June 8. Decree ordaining the formation of a camp of 20,000 men near Paris. Opposed by
the King.
12. 13. Dismissal of the ministers, Servan, Roland, and Claviere*.
20. The populace at the Tuileries.
26. First continental coalition against France.
28. Lafayette appears at the bar to demand, in the name of Aw army, the punishment of
the authors of the outrage of the 20lh.
July 7. Francis II. elected Emperor of Germany.
6. All the ministers of Louis XVI. resign.
11. Decree declaring the country in danger.
14. Third Federation.
30. Arrival of the Marseillais in Paris.
Aug. 10. The Tuileries attacked and stormed.
11. Suspension of the King — Formation of an executive council.
13. Imprisonment of the King and the royal family in the Temple.
13 — 21. The foreign ambassadors leave Paris.
14. Decree directing the sale of the property of the emigrants.
18. Flight of Lafayette, after attempting in vain to induce his army to rise in favour of
Louis XVI. and the constitution.
28, 29. Law ordaining domiciliary visits.
Sept. 2. Confiscation of the property of the emigrants.
2 — 6. Massacres in the prisons of Paris.
9. Massacre of the prisoners from Orleans at Versailles.
16. The Garde-Meuble robbed of the jewels and precious stones belonging to the crown.
20. Battle of Valmy.
21. Closing of the Legislative Assembly, after passing, between the 1st of October, 1791,
and the present day, 2140 decrees relative to administration or legislation — Opening of
the National Convention — Abolition of royalty — Proclamation of the n -public.
22. Commencement of the republican era — Decree ordaining the renewal of all the adminis-
trative, municipal, and judicial bodies, as suspected of being gangrened with rot/alum.
23. Entry of the French into Chambcry — Conquest of Savoy.
28. Nice taken.
29. Louis XVI. separated from his family and removed to the great tower of the Temple.
Oct. 8. The siege of Lille raised, after n\\ heroic defence by its inhabitants.
9. Law ordaining the immediate death of every emigrant taken in arms.
10. The titles of citoyen and citoyenne adopted instead of monsieur and madame.
15. Suppression of the order of St. Louis.
22. Entire evacuation of the French territory by the allies.
23. Law banishing the emigrants in mass and for ever, and decreeing the penalty of death
against all, without distinction of age or sex, who t-hall return to France.
Nov. 6. Victory of Jemappe*.
7. Decree for putting Louis XVI. upon his trial.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. vii
Nov. 19. The Convention, by a decree, promises aid and succour to all those nations which
may desire to overthrow their governments.
20. Discovery of the iron chest
Dec 4. Decree pronouncing the penalty of death against all who shall propose or attempt to
restore royalty in France.
11. First examination of Louis XVI.
16. Decree banishing the Bourbons, with the exception of the prisoners in the Temple and
Philip Egalite (the Duke of Orleans,) respecting whom the Convention reserves to itself
the right of deciding hereafter — Philip Egalite continues to sit in the Convention.
25. Louis XVI. writes his will.
26. Defence of Louis XVI. delivered by Deseze.
27. Commencement of the debates in the National Convention.
31. England refuses to recognise the minister of the French republic.
1793.
Jan. 13. Basse ville murdered at Rome.
14. End of the debates in the Convention relative to Louis XVI.
15 — 20. Votes and scrutinies for the sentence on Louis XVI., the appeal to the people,
the reprieve, &c.
20. Notification to Louis XVI. of the sentence of death pronounced upon him — Last inter-
view of the King with his family — Murder of Lepelletier St. Fargeau.
21. Execution of Louis XVI.
24. The Convention, in a body, attends the funeral of Lepelletier, to whose remains are
awarded the honours of the Pantheon.
28. Louis Xavier (Monsieur) assumes the title of Regent of France, and proclaims Louis
XVII. King.
31. Incorporation of the county of Nice with France.
Feb. 1. The Convention declares war against England and Holland.
24. Decree ordaining the levy of 300,000 men.
25, 26. Plunder of the grocers' shops in Paris.
March 5. The colonies declared in a state of siege.
7. The Convention declares war against Spain.
9. Commissioners of the Convention sent with unlimited powers into the departments —
Abolition of imprisonment for debt — First coalition against France formed by England,
Austria, Prussia, Holland, Spain, Portugal, the Two Sicilies, the Roman States, Sardinia,
and Piedmont.
10, 11. Institution of the revolutionary tribunal.
12. Committees of surveillance established in Paris.
11 — 15. Insurrection in La Vendee — Cholet taken by the insurgents.
18. Battle of Neerwinden.
21. Decree ordaining the punishment of death against all who shall propose an agrarian law.
25. Institution of the committee of general safety.
28. The emigrants banished for ever — Confiscation of their property.
April. 1. Defection of Dumouriez.
6. The committee of public welfare instituted by a law.
Apprehension of the Duke of Orleans (Egalite), and imprisonment at Marseilles of all
the members of the family of the Bourbons not confined in the Temple — Representatives
of the people sent to the republican armies.
1 3. Marat decreed under accusation by the Convention.
14. The Spaniards overrun Roussillon.
24. Marat acquitted and carried in triumph to the hall of the Convention.
May 4. A maximum fixed for the price of corn and flour.
10. First meeting of the Convention at the Tuileries.
18. The Girondins obtain the institution of the commission of the twelve to watch the
motions of agitators.
20. Forced loan of 1000 millions imposed upon the rich.
26. Insurrection in Corsica.
29. Insurrection in Lyons against the Jacobins.
30 31 ~)
June'l 2 f Kevolution of May 31. Downfall of the Girondins.
5. Federalist insurrection at Marseilles and Caen.
8. Blockade of the ports of France by England.
Vlll CHRONOLOGY OF THE
June 9. Protest of 73 deputies against the acts of the Convention on the 3Ut of May, and the
2d of June.
10. Saumur taken by the Yen Jeans — A decree that absolute necessaries shall not be taxed.
21 — 24. Insurrection in St. Domingo — The Cape burned.
23. Martial law repealed.
29. The constitution submitted to the primary assemblies.
28, 29. Nantes attacked by the Yendeans.
July 3. Decree commanding the siege of Lyons.
4. Foundlings named the children of the country.
13. Marat assassinated by Charlotte Corday.
24. Capitulation of Mayence.
26. Establishment of telegraphs.
27. Robespierre nominated a member of the committee of public welfare.
28. Capitulation of Valenciennes.
Aug. 1 . Marie Antoinette removed to the Conciergerie.
7. Decree declaring Pitt an enemy of mankind.
8. Suppression of all academies and literary societies.
10. The constitution of 1793 accepted by the deputies of 44,000 communes of republic.
15. Institution of the great book of the public debt.
22. Adoption of the first eight heads of the civil code.
23. Law ordaining the levy m //msse.
Sep. 5. Decree enacting that a revolutionary army shall travel over the departments with
artillery and a guillotine.
7, 8. Victory gained over the English at Hondschoote.
1 1 . Establishment of the maximum for corn and flour.
15. Investment and siege of Toulon.
1 7. Law of the suspected.
Oct. 10. Lyons taken by the army of the Convention — The government declared revolution-
ary till a peace.
15, 16. Victory of VVattignies — The blockade of Maubeuge raised.
16. Marie Antoinette condemned and executed.
17 — 19. Defeat of the Vendeans at Cholet — Passage of the Loire.
31. The Girondins executed.
Nov. 6. The Duke of Orleans (Philip Egalite) executed.
10. The Catholic worship superseded by that of Reason — Revolutionary massacres at Lyons.
11. Bailly executed.
16. Lotteries suppressed.
Dec. 4. Organization of the Revolutionary government.
12. 13. The Vendeans defeated at Mans.
20. Toulon retaken.
22. The Vendeans defeated at Savenay.
26, 27. The lines of Weissenburg retaken — The blockade of Landau raised.
1794.
Jan. 1. Decree enacting that every condemned general shall be executed at the head of his army.
4. IS'oirmoutiers taken — D'Klbee executed.
16. Marseilles declared rebellious and to have lost its name.
21. Decree enacting that the anniversary of the execution of Louis XVI. shall be celebrated
as a national festival — Drownings (noyudes) at Nantes.
Feb. 4. Decree abolishing slavery in the colonics. The negroes declared French citizens-
Decree enacting that sentences upon ecclesiastics shnll ho executed without appeal.
15. The Convention determines thnt the national flag shall be composed of three
stripes of equal breadth — red, white, and blue.
22. A maximum fixed for articles of ordinary consumption.
24. Decree qualifying denouncers to be heard as witnesses.
March 5. Danton, Camille-Desmoulins, Ac. executed.
22. Decree proclaiming justice and integrity the order of the day.
April 1. The executive counsel suppressed and succeeded by twelve commissions composed
of members of the Convention, and subordinate to the committee of public welfare.
4. Decree enacting that accused persons brought In-fore the revolutionary tribunal who
resist the national justice, shall not be allowed to plead, and sentenced forthwith.
5. Decree that every member of the Convention shall give an account of his couduct,
moral and political, and of his circumstances.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. iJt
April 14. Decree that the remains of J. J. Rousseau shall be removed to the Pantheon.
16. Decree that all those who live without doing anything, and complain of the Revolution,
shall be transported to Guiana.
May 7. The Convention acknowledges the existence of the Supreme Being.
10. Madame Elizabeth, sister of Louis XVI., executed.
May 18. Victory of Turcoing.
22. Execution of young females at Verdun.
26. Decree that no quarter be given to the English and Hanoverians — Collioure, St. Elmo,
and Port-Vendres retaken.
June 1. Establishment of the School of Mars in the plain of Sablons — Sea-fight of the 13th
of Prairial — Heroism of the crew of the Vengeur.
8. Festival of the Supreme Being.
10. Decree that any moral document may be used as evidence against a person accused
before the revolutionary tribunal ; and that there shall be in future no official defenders.
23. Battle of Croix-des-Bouquets.
25. Charleroi taken.
26. Decree that corn and forage of this year's growth be put in requisition — Victory of
Fleurus.
27. Institution of a police legion for the city of Paris.
July 4. Decree that the foreign garrisons in French fortresses, which refuse to surrender
within twenty-four hours after the first summons, shall be put to the sword.
6. Landrecies retaken.
26. (8th of Thermidor.) Robespierre at the Jacobin club.
27,28. (9th and 10th of Thermidor.) Downfall of Robespierre.
29. Execution of eighty-three members of the general council of the commune outlawed
on the 27th.
Aug. 1. Fouquier-Tinville apprehended.
12. A new revolutionary tribunal installed.
16. Quesnoy retaken.
23. All persons of seventy in confinement set at liberty.
24. Decree limiting the powers of the committee of public welfare.
27 — 30. Valenciennes and Conde retaken.
31. Explosion of the powder-magazine at Grenelle, by which fifteen hundred persons lose
their lives — Decree for checking the progress of Vandalism — The monuments of the arts
and sciences placed under the care of the authorities.
Sept. 1. Barrere, Billaud-Varennes, and Collot-d'Herbois, turned out of the committee of public
welfare — That committee had been prorogued and re-elected fourteen times successively.
10. Attempt to assassinate Tallien.
24T Destruction of the English settlements at Sierra-Leone.
Oct. 2. Victory of Aldenhoven.
7. Lyons resumes its name.
10. Institution of the Conservatory of Arts and Trades.
12. The Convention forbids all political correspondence between popular societies in their
collective name.
20. The Normal School instituted.
23. The School of Mars suppressed.
Nov. 1. Great dearth. The inhabitants of Paris receive but two ounces of bread per day.
The busts of Marat and Lepelletier destroyed. — The body of Marat dragged from the
Pantheon and thrown into a sewer.
9. The Jacobins attacked by the Gilded Youth.
1*2. Decree suspending the meetings and closing the hall of the Jacobin club.
17 — 20. Battle of Montague Noire, in which the two commanders-in-chief, Dugommier
and La Union are slain.
Dec. 2. Amnesty offered to the Vendeans and Chouans, who shall lay down their arms within
a month.
8. The deputies proscribed on the 31st of May, 1793, readmitted into the Convention.
9. Decree that in future the secrecy of letters shall not be violated in the interior.
16, 17. Carrier condemned and executed. -
24. The laws of the maximum repealed.
30. The decree enacting that no quarter shall be given to the English and Hanoverians
repealed.
VOL. I. — (2)
X CHRONOLOGY OF THE
1795.
Jan. 1 9. Declaration of Russia that " there is no longer either a kingdom or republic of Po-
land"— The French enter Amsterdam — Conquest of Holland.
20. A Dutch fleet taken by French Cavalry.
Feb. 2. Repeal of the penal laws issued against Lyons.
6. Holland abolishes the stadtholdership, and constitutes itself a republic
9. Treaty of peace between France and Tuscany.
1 .'). First pacification of La Vendee, called the pacification of La Jaunaie.
Mar. 2. The late members of the committee of public welfare placed under accusation.
8. Tbe outlawed deputies readmitted into the Convention.
15. Decree that each inhabitant of Paris shall be allowed but one pound of bread per day:
labouring people only to have a pound and a half.
21 . Institution of the Central School of Public Works (afterwards the Polytechnic School)
— Law against seditious assemblies.
April 1. Transportation of the late members of the committee of public welfare ( 1 2th Germinal.)
5. Treaty of peace between the French Republic and the King of Prussia.
7. Establishment of the uniformity of weights, measures, and coins, upon the decimal
system.
24. Massacres in the prisons of Lyons.
May 7. Execution of Fouquier-Tinville and fifteen jurors of the revolutionary tribunal
16. Alliance between the French and the Batavian republics.
17 — 19. Jacobin insurrection at Toulon.
20. Disturbances of the 1st of Prairial.
22. Insurrection of the fauxbourg Su Antoine.
24. Disarming of the fauxbourg St. Antoine and the sections of Paris.
30. The public exercise of the Catholic religion authorized.
31. The extraordinary revolutionary criminal tribunal suppressed.
June 1 — 5. Insurrection at Toulon quelled.
2. Funeral honours paid to Feraud, the deputy, murdered on the 1st of Prairial.
8. Death of the Dauphin, sou of Louis XVI.
17. Death of Romme, Goujon, Soubrani, &c.
24. Charette again takes up arms in La Vendee.
27. Institution of a police legion for the safeguard of Paris.
July 21. The emigrants lay down their arms at Quiberon.
22. Treaty of peace between France and Spain signed at Basle.
Aug. 3. Institution of the Conservatory of Music
22. The new constitution, called the constitution of the year III, adopted.
23. Decree definitely dissolving the popular societies.
30. Decree enacting that two-thirds of the members of the new legislative assemblies shall
be, for the first time only, exclusively chosen from the National Convention.
Sept 23. Proclamation of the acceptance of the -constitution of the year III by the people.
Oct. 1. Belgium and all the conquered countries on the Kit bank of the Rhiue incorporated
with the Republic.
2. Landing of Count d'Artois in Ile-Dieu.
5. Insurrection of the 13th Vendemiaire.
25. Formation of the Institute decreed.
2G. End of the National Convention, after passing 8370 decrees.
28. First meeting of the Council of the Ancients and the Council of the Five Hunjral.
Nov. 1. Formation of the Directory — Laruveillere-Lepeux, Le Tourneur, Rewbel, B arras,
and Carnot, chosen directors.
•1. Tho Directory establishes itself at the Luxembourg.
17. Evacuation of the Ile-Dieu.
23 — 27. Battle and victory of Loano.
Dec 26. The daughter of Louis XVI. exchanged for, 1, the representatives and General
Beurnonville, delivered up to the Austrians by Dumouriez; 2, Marct and Semonville,
diplomatic envoys, seized by the Austrians in 1793: 3, Drouet, the ex-conventionalist,
made prisoner in 1 792.
1790.
Jan. 1. Institution of the ministry of the police.
Feb. 2. The twelve municipalities of Paris installed.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. »
Feb. 24. Stofflet, again in arms at La Vendee, taken and shot
Mar. 29. Charette shot at Nantes.
April 2 — 9. Insurrection in Berry, which is quelled immediately.
11, 12. Battle of Montenotte.
13, 14. Battle of Millesimo.
22. Battle of .Mondovi.
May 10. Battle of the bridge of Lodi.
15. Treaty of peace between the French Republic and the King of Sardinia — The French
enter Milan.
June 4. Battle of Altenkirchen gained by Jourdan.
21. Armistice granted to the Pope, by Bonaparte.
23. Morea crosses the Rhine at Kehl.
29. The castle of Milan taken.
July 9. Battle of Ettlingen gained by Moreau.
Aug. 5. Victory of Castiglione.
15. Definitive pacification of La Vendee.
18. Offensive and defensive alliance between France and Spain.
Sept. 5. The French enter Trent.
8. Battle of Bassano.
15. Battle of St. George — Wurmser blockaded in Mantua.
Oct. 2. Battle of Biberach, gained by Moreau.
8. Spain declares war against England.
10. Treaty of peace between the Republic and the King of the Two Sicilies.
22. Corsica retaken from the English.
Nov. 15 — 17. Victory of Arcole.
Dec, 20. Rupture of the conferences opened at Paris with Lord Malmcsbury.
24 — 27. Expedition to Ireland ; productive of no result.
1797.
Jan. 9. Capitulation of Kehl, after the trenches had been opened forty-eight hours.
14, 15. Battle of Rivoli.
1 6. Battle of La Favorita — Capitulation of Provera.
Feb. 2. Mantua taken.
5. Surrender of the tete de ponte of Huninguen.
19. Treaty of peace of Tolentino, between the French Republic and the Pope.
Mar. 1 6. Passage of the Tagliamento.
April 1 5. Preliminaries of peace between France and Austria, signed at Leoben.
18. Battle of Neuwied gained by Hoche.
20. 21. Passage of the Rhine at Diersheim, by Moreau.
May 16. The French enter Venice — Overthrow of the old Venetian government.
tl. Revolution at Genoa — Creation of the Ligurian republic.
June 28. Occupation of Corfu.
July 9. Establishment of the Cisalpine Republic.
Auf. 24. Repeal of all the laws relative to the exile or confinement of priests refusing to take
the oath.
Sept. 4. Violent proceedings of the 18th of Fructidor.
17. Rupture of the conferences at Lille opened for peace with England.
1 9. Death of General Hoche.
30. Law for dividing the public debt into three thirds, of which one only is consolidated.
Oct. 17. Treaty of peace signed at Campo Formio, between France and Austria-
Dec. 9. Opening of the congress of Rastadt
10. Solemn reception of General Bonaparte by the Directory.
28. Riot at Rome — Murder of General Duphot — The French legation leaves the Papal
territories.
1798.
Jan. 1. Law concerning the constitutional organization of the Colonies.
5. Forced loan of eighty millions to defray the expenses of the preparations for an invasion
of England.
27. Invasion of Switzerland.
Feb. 10. The French enter Rome.
15, Abolition of the Papal government — The Roman republic proclaimed.
XU CHRONOLOGY OF THE
Mar. 1. The Rhine acknowledged by the congress of Rastadt as the boundary of the French
Republic
5. Berne taken.
April 17. Organization of the national gendarmerie.
19. Landing of the English near Ostend : all killed or taken.
26. Incorporation of Geneva with France.
May 1. Holland reconstitutes itself by the name of the Batavian republic
9. The English evacuate St. Domingo.
] 9. Sailing of the expedition for Egypt
June 10—13. Taking of Malta.
July 1 — 3. Landing in Egypt
21. Battle of the Pyramids.
27. Suspension of commercial relations between France and America.
Aug. 1, 2. Sea-fight at Aboukir.
21. Creation of the Institute of Egypt
22. Landing in Ireland of 1150 French, under the command of Humbert
Sept 5. Establishment of the conscription.
8. Humbert, attacked by 25,000 English, is forced to surrender.
12. The Porte declares war against France
Oct 8. Battle of Sedy man.
22 — 24. Insurrection at Cairo.
Nov. 24. Imposition of a tax on doors and windows.
Dec 5. Battle of Civita Castellana — Defeat of 40,000 Neapolitans under General Mack, by
6000 French, under Macdonald.
6. Declaration of war against the Kings of Naples and Sardinia.
9. Ratification of the treaty of peace between the French and Helvetic republics.
8 — 10. Occupation of Turin by General Joubert — The King of Sardinia cedes Piedmont
to France.
14. Reoccupation of Rome by Championnet
18. Treaty of alliance between England and Russia against France.
1799.
Jan. 23. Naples taken by Championnet
March 1 — 4. Hostile movements of the French and Austrian armies on the Rhine.
7. Coire taken — Conquest of the country of the Grisons by the French.
10. Expedition to Syria — Jaffa taken.
25. Defeat of the French at Stockach.
27. Seizure of Pope Pius VI., who is carried to France.
16. Victory of Mount Tabor.
April 27. Defeat of the French at Cassano.
28. Murder of the French plenipotentiaries at Rastadt
May 21. The army of the East raises the siege of Acre.
24. The citadel of Milan taken by Suwarrow.
June 8. Zurich taken by the archduke Charles.
17. 18. Events of the 30th of Prairial — Three of the directors are turned out by the legis-
lative body.
17 — 19. Defeat of the French at Trebbia.
July 12. Law authorizing the relatives of emigrants and nobles to be seized as hostages.
25. Victory of the French at Aboukir.
30. Mantua taken by the Austrian*.
Aug. 15. Defeat of the French at NovL
22. General Bonaparte quits Egypt
29. Death of Pope Pius VII. detained a captive at Valence.
Sept 19. Defeat of the Anglo-Russian army at Bergen, in Holland.
25—29. Battle of Zurich. Defeat of the united Austrians and Russians.
Oct 16. Arrival of Bonaparte in Paris.
18. Capitulation of Anglo- Russians at Alkmaer.
Nov. 9, 10. Revolution of the 18th Brumaire— Bonaparte proclaimed provisional Consul.
Dec 16. Law organizing the Polytechnic School.
26. Constitution of the year VIII — Bonaparte nominated First Consul, Cambaceres and
Lebrun associated with him as second and third Consuls.
INTRODUCTION
BY THE EDITOR
Op all the native historians — and their name is Legion — who have
written on the subject of the French Revolution, the two most distin-
guished are decidedly Messrs. Thiers and Mignet. Both these emi-
nent men are remarkable for the impartial tone of their narratives,
considering how recent are the stirring events of which they treat ;
for the accuracy of their details ; for the skill with which they com-
pare and sift conflicting evidence, and the general justness of their
conclusions ; and for the luminous and succinct manner in which they
trace, step by step, the progress of the most awful moral convulsion |
that the world has yet known. They do not mix themselves up with
the strife, or take part in the feverish emotions of the chief combatants,
but stand aloof, as shrewd and cool lookers-on. They enlist neither un-
der the banner of the Gironde nor of the Mountain ; they swear nei-
ther by the sovereignty of Louis, nor by that of the People ; they are
neither Orleanists, nor Septembrizers, nor Terrorists ; but act upon
the broad, enduring principle of giving fair play to all parties.
But though both possess these important historical requisites nearly
equally in common, there are points in which they differ widely from
each other. Thiers shows more of the journalist — Mignet more of
the philosopher in his work. The former, when once he is fairly em-
barked on his task, after a few introductory observations of no great
pith or moment, moves right on, narrating events as they occur, frank-
ly and minutely, without much troubling himself with investigating
causes ; the lattrar is frequently halting, for the purpose of indulging
in speculations, which although correct and pertinent in the main, are
VOL. I. 1. 1 '
» INTRODUCTION.
occasionally somewhat too subtile and refined for the taste of the
general reader. In their various delineations of character, Thiers ex-
hibits the most worldly tact — Mignet the most metaphysical acuteness,
especially where he has to draw such a portrait as that of the Abbe
Sieyes, whom, because he was like himself, a lover of abstract specu-
lation, and addicted to considering the theory rather than the prac-
tice of Government, M. Mignet has painted con amorc, and in his
brightest colours. We cannot help thinking, however, that Burke and
Napoleon were nearer the mark, when they pronounced this well-in-
tentioned but somewhat crotchetty Abb6 to be little better than a mere
visionary.
To the general reader Thiers's work will always present more at
tractions than that of M. Mignet — for this plain reason, that although
it contains less of what has been called, " the philosophy of history,"
it is of a far more animated, practical, and dramatic character.
There is a shrewd, business-like air about it — although here and there
the author would evidently desire to be thought a profounder reasoner
than he is — that all can understand and appreciate. Hence the secret
of the great success that it has met with on the continent. In a word,
Thiers the historian is a perfect facsimile of 'Thiers the statesman —
an adroit, keen, clear-headed man of the world, with no strong pas-
sions or prejudices to warp or lead astray his judgment.*
It is to be regretted that an author so well versed in the annals of his
country as M. Thiers, has not thought it worth his while to enter more
into detail on the subject of the numerous secondary causes which
helped to bring about the French Revolution. It will be observed that,
after a few brief introductory paragraphs, of a didactic rather than an
historical character, he comes at once to his subject, as if he took for
granted that all his readers were as well acquainted as himself with the
remote, as well as with the immediate, origin of that memorable event
His history may be said to commence with the derangement of the
national finances after the death of Maurepas ; but the seeds of the
revolution were sown long before his time. The immediately pro-
pelling cause was no doubt financial, but the struggle had become ne
cessary — it may almost be said — from the day of the decease of the
Grand Monarque.
After the cessation of the wars of the Fronde' and the death of
Mazarin, Colbert, whose knowledge of finance had introduced him to
the notice of that wily minister, succeeded to power. This great states-
• For a brief but well-written character of Thiers as an historian, the reader is
referred to a review of Mr. Carlyle's French Revolution, which appeared in the
"Times" newspaper a few weeks ago
INTRODUCTION. IU
man, who was far in advance of his age, was every way calculated to
make France happy and flourishing. Accordingly, under bis bene-
ficent auspices, she made rapid strides towards prosperity. Com-
merce was encouraged — domestic dissensions were healed, as. if by
magic — navie3 equipped — colonies founded — the fine arts and litera-
ture patronised — the authority of the law respected — and the duty of
toleration enforced in religious matters, Colbert was essentially a
peace Minister ; and, had he been permitted to retain his authority,
and to put in force his projected reforms, the majority of which were
of a grand and comprehensive character, it is not impossible that the
constant struggles which ultimately terminated in revolution might
have been avoided, or at any rate retarded for years ; but unfortunately
all his patriotic efforts were thwarted by the intrigues of his sworn
foe, the war minister, Louvois, who, by flattering the humours and
pandering to the ambition of Louis, plunged France into a destruc-
tive and extravagant war with Europe, the effects of which, felt hea-
vily during this showy monarch's reign, were felt with still more seve-
rity by his feeble and thoughtless successors.
It was at this disastrous period that absolute monarchy was defini-
tively established. The crown arrogated the right to dispose alike
of person and of property without the slightest regard to law or equity.
The nation, though divided into three orders, which were again sub-
divided into several classes, may yet be said to have consisted of but
two distinct parties — the privileged and the unprivileged. The latter
of course constituted the great mass of the community. On them
fell the chief burdens of the state ; for the noblesse were, to a great
degree, exempt from imposts ; and the clergy had the convenient pri-
vilege of taxing themselves. " This order," says M. Mignet, " was
divided into two classes, one of which was destined for the bishoprics,
abbacies, and their rich revenues ; the other, to apostolic labours, and
to poverty. The Tiers-Hal, borne down by the Court, and harassed
by the noblesse, was itself separated into corporations, which retali-
ated upon each other the evils and oppressions that they suffered from
their superiors. They possessed scarcely a third part of the soil, upon
which they were compelled to pay feudal services to their lords, tithes
to their priests, and imposts to the King. In compensation for so
many sacrifices they enjoyed no rights ; had no share in the adminis
tration ; and were admitted to no public employments."
Such was the condition of France at the most imposing period of
Louis XIV.'s reign. Colbert would have gone far to remedy this state
of things — for he was as bold and determined as he was sagacious ;
but he had passed from the theatre of action, and henceforth there
IT INTRODUCTION.
was none to interfere with the monarch's will. The noblesse could
not, even had they desired it — for they wore reduced to a state of per-
fect dependence, which, however, they bore with equanimity, receiv-
ing its price in pleasures and in royal favour ; and still loss could the
parliament, for it had no longer a will — not even a voice of its own.
Nevertheless, though manacled in every limb, France bore with this
state of affairs during the life of the Grand Monarque, for its innate
vanity was gratified by his military glories, by the splendour of his
court, and, above all, by the intellectual triumphs of the age. On a
superficial view, the country would never have appeared so prosper-
ous as at this splendid epoch. But though all on the surface looked
plausible enough ; though pleasure and festivity were the order of the
day ; though the military and literary glories of France were known
and respected throughout Europe, and she herself held the first rank
among nations ; the earthquake was at work beneath, destined
soon to explode with terrific energy.
Despite the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, which added so great-
ly to the discontent of the most industrious and intelligent portion of
the community, and the subjection in which he held all classes, the
highest equally with the lowest of his people, Louis was by no means
a tyrant in the ordinary acceptation of the term. He was simply a
selfish and ambitious man. His youth had been wholly neglected ;
he was never taught the duties which a sovereign owes to his subj.
but held it as an axiom not to be controverted, that the many were
made for the one. Passionately fond of excitement, and incapable
of self-restraint, these factitious, unhealthy feelings made him in his
meridian manhood a lover of war, as in his age they converted him
into a bigot. Of the real condition of France, and of the irrepara-
ble injuries which his reckless extravagance was yearly inflicting on
her, he knew nothing. Surrounded by sycophants — hailed by grave
divines and renowned wits as the pride and saviour of his country —
he had little difliculty in persuading himself that he was all, and more
than all, that he was said to be. It was his leading defect throujr:
life to be ever mistaking the show for the substance of national pros-
perity.
The exertions which this monarch made to encourage a taste for
literature, and to diffuse intelligence among his people, conduced,
even more than his own improvident system of government, to sow the
seeds of revolution. By creating a habit of reflection among those
who up to this time were, comparatively speaking, immersed in igno-
rance, he went far, without meaning to do so, to establish public
opinion ; and every one knows that the spirit of inquiry once set in
INTRODUCTION. »
motion cannot be stopped ; for it is like the rising tide, which, how-
ever it may seem to recede, gains ground with every wave. Accord-
ingly, the impulse given to intellect by Louis, went on increasing,
quietly and insidiously, year by year. The Tier$-€tat began to look
about them, to discuss the causes of the evils under which they had so
long groaned, and to speculate on the nature of the remedy.
AVhde the popular mind was thus rousing itself from the torpor of
ages, a sect of philosophers and sophists arose, who gave it precisely
that sort of impetus which it was so well fitted to receive. From the
period when these men obtained notoriety by their writings, a revo-
lution became inevitable. They dispelled, as with an enchanter's
wand, the Cimmerian gloom of centuries. Not a question in religion,
jurisprudence, legislation, finance, or social polity, escaped their
searching scrutiny. They exposed the wrongs, and pointed out the
rights of their countrymen ; but while they did this, they at the same
time advocated doctrines wholly incompatible with the well-doing of
civilized society. Mr. Alison, alluding to the startling effects produced
by these men, observes that they " took place under die feeble succes-
sors of the Grand Mouarque. In the philosophical speculations of the
eighteenth century, in the writings of Voltaire, Rousseau, Raynal,
and the Encyclopaedists, the most free and unreserved discussion took
place on political subjects. By a singular blindness the constituted
authorities, how despotic soever, made no attempt to curb these in-
quiries, which, being all couched in general terms, or made in refer-
ence to other states, appeared to have no bearing on the tranquillity
of the kingdom. Strong in the support of the nobility and the pro-
tection of the army, they deemed their power beyond the reach of
attack ; and anticipated no danger from dreams on the social contract,
or the manners and spirit of nations. A direct attack on the mo-
narchy would have been followed by an immediate place in the Bastile ;
but general disquisitions excited no alarm either among the nobility, or
in the government. So universal was tins delusiou, that the young
nobility amused themselves with visionary speculations concerning
the original equality and pristine state of man : deeming such specu-
lations as inapplicable to their case as the license of Otaheite or the
equality of Tartar)."
Foremost among those whose writings tended to inflame and per-
vert the public mind were Voltaire and Rousseau. The former of
these had every possible requisite for such a task. Shrewd, calcu-
lating, and cunning as a fox ; a wit without heart, an innovator with-
out principle ; an expert sophist, the light thin toil of whose mind
could not nourish the tree of knowledge ; acquainted with society in
■ INTRODUCTION.
all its grades, from the highest to the lowest ; a contemner, less from
sound conviction, than from the instincts of overweening self-conceit,
of all systems of religion, government, and morals — this " brilliant
Frenchman," as Cowper justly calls him, was just the man to pre-
cipitate the grand crisis of the Revolution. All who read, could under-
stand him. There was no affected mysticism in his manner, no pow-
er of deep reflection, for his thoughts lay on the surface ; he was uni-
formly concise, lucid, and plausible ; and set off his style by all the
graces of the most sparkling wit and cutting sarcasm. His favourite
mode of dealing with the most momentous matters, was by insinua-
tion. He sneers away a moral principle in a sentence, and disturbs
one's faith in religion and humanity, by a terse and sparkling alle-
gory. That he effected some good in his generation, is unquestiona-
ble. He denounced the» avarice and negligence of the privileged
priesthood; lashed the insane rage for war, then so general on the
continent ; exposed the vices and imbecility of the noblesse ; and did
not spare even the throne itself. Had he stopped here, it had been
well ; but his restless intellect spurned all decent restraints, perversely
confounded the distinctions between truth and falsehood — sophis-
try and common sense. Like an Irishman in a row, he laid about
him with his club without the slightest regard to consequences. Cyn-
ical by nature, the crimes and utter callousness that he observed
among the higher classes made him a sceptic to all generous emotions;
as the corruption of the privileged clergy made him reject all belief in
Christianity. Hazlitt, who of all men in the world was the least
likely to underrate hiin, has well observed that "the poisoned wound
he inflicted was so fine as scarcely to be felt, until it rankled and fes-
tered in its mortal consequences ; and that he loved to reduce things
below their level, making them all alike seem worthless and hollow !'*
Of a far different order of intellect, but in his way equally influen-
tial, was Voltaire's great rival, Rousseau. The object of this insidi-
ous sentimentalist was — in politics, to bring about republicanism ; in
ethics, to subvert the entire frame-work of society, and introduce uni-
versal license ; in religion, to do away with faith grounded on the con-
victions of reason, and to substitute in its stead the cant of instinct
and sensibility. His specious, shallow, tinsel eloquence, which was
mistaken for the sterling ore of thought, turned the brain of all
France. Because his ideas were eccentric, they were accounted pro-
found ; and his studied lewdness was received as the prompting of a
healthy and impassioned temperament. We who live in more en
lightened times, when the public mind is able to detect the true from
the false, and, if crazy for a season by some pet crotchet, never fails
INTRODUCTION. Til
soon to right itself, can scarcely imagine the effect which Voltaire and
Rousseau, assisted by the Encyclopaedists, produced in their day.
That a convulsion would have taken place, even without their aid, is
unquestionable ; but equally certain is it that they greatly contributed
to hurry on the crisis. The effects of their writings may easily be
traced in the sophistical speculations of the unworldly Girondins — the
republican cant of the Dantonists — and the sentimental infidelity of
the worshippers of the Goddess of Reason.
The radical defect of all Rousseau's writing was the substitution of
sentiment for principle. Never was man so glaringly deficient in what
may be called the moral sense. His mind " wore motley," and was
made up of inconsistencies. While he professed to inculcate a sys-
tem of the purest ethics, he lived in avowed adultery with a woman old
enough to be his mother ; and wrote upon the duties owing by parents
to their children, while he sent his own to the Foundling Hospital !
That he was actuated throughout his literary career by no better feel-
ing than a mere morbid craving for notoriety is evident from one of
his published conversations with Burke, wherein he observes that, find-
ing that the ordinary vehicle of literature was worn out, he took upon
himself the task of renewing the springs, repainting the panels, and
gilding the whole machine afresh. In other words, he was solely
anxious to create a sensation, no matter how eccentric were the means
which he employed for that purpose.
It was the fashion of the day, even among the court circles — where
the spirit was utterly unknown — to praise this man as the apostle of
liberty. This is certainly a saving clause in his favour— or at least
would be so, were it not altogether fallacious. Rousseau's love of
independence was purely a factitious feeling, else wherefore happened
it that he was the slave of his own diseased imagination ? To be the
true apostle of freedom the man himself must be free. No mean dis-
trusts— no maudlin misauthrophy — no sensual, prurient fancies — must
interfere with, or influence, his opinions. He must tower above the
ordinary level of mankind as much in conduct as in intellect ; for by
the union of worth and genius alone is the world's conviction ensured.
Yet it has been urged by those, who, seduced by their talents, would
fain, make excuses for their sophistries, that Rousseau and Voltaire
acted from the best intentions. This is pure cant — the plea urged by
every knave for his offences against society. The bar of the Old
Bailey is filled every session with the best intentions ; they figure un-
equivocally in the police-offices ; people the vast pasturages of Aus-
tralia, and form — says the quaint old Spanish proverb — the pavement
of hell itself!
VlU INTRODUCTION.
While Voltaire and Rousseau, in conjunction with the Encyclopaedists,
were thus striking at the roots of social order, under the pretence of
invigorating them, the court and the noblesse — frantic suicides ! — were
assisting them by every means in their power, first, by their applause,
and secondly by their vices. Louis XV., an imbecile, sensual prince,
without vigour, principle, or consistency of character, set an example
of gross licentiousness,which his courtiers were not slow to follow, and
which furnished the sophists with ample food for sarcasm and decla-
mation. Under the disastrous reign of this monarch, justice was
bought and sold like any other commodity. A liberal present, the
promise of promotion, the smiles of a beautiful wife or mistress, could,
in seven cases out of ten, sway the decision of a judge. Criminal
commissions, the members of which were nominated by the crown,
were frequently appointed, thus rendering personal liberty as insecure
as real property. Warrants of imprisonment, too, without either ac-
cusation or trial, might consign obnoxious individuals to a dungeon
for life. Moreover, enormous debts were contracted without national
authority ; and the public creditors were kept wholly in the dark as
to the state of the national finances.
Another predisposing cause to revolution was the preposterous sa-
laries of the civil servants of the crown, and of the aristocratic officers
of the army, who, though paid at a rate which would now appear in-
credible, yet made a point of neglecting their duties, or bribing others
to perform them. Every where Corruption stalked abroad with un-
blushing front. It wore the general's uniform — the judge's robe — the
bishop's hood. It had the privilege of the entrt at court, and sate
next the monarch at the royal banquet. The most important func-
tions of government were carried on in the boudoirs of mistresses ;
the petticoat decided questions o war or peace ; and he would have
been deemed a most incompetent Minister indeed, who would have
dared to controvert the opinions of a Pompadour or a Du Barri.
Pope has admirably described this state of things in his magnificent
epilogue to the satires :
" In soldier, churchman, patriot, man in power,
'Tis avarice all, ambition is no more ;
See all our nobles begging to be slave* !
See all our fools aspiring to be knaves !
All, all look up with reverential awe
At crimes that 'scape or triumph o'er the law,
While truth, worth, wisdom, daily they decry,
Nothing is sacred now but villany !"
The Tiers-itat were become quite intelligent enough to appreciate
INTRODUCTION. it
the condition of France at this critical period ; but as yet they stifled
their indignation, or only gave vent to it in occasional remonstrance.
The stream still flowed on smooth, and the Court, because they heard
not the thunder of the cataract, imagined that they were far removed
from danger. Infatuated men ! They were already within the Ra-
pids !
The spirit of discontent that prevailed among the middle classes,
prevailed still more strongly among the peasantry ; and with good
cause, for their local burdens, and the services due by them to their
feudal superiors, were vexatious and oppressive in the extreme. " The
most important operations of agriculture," says an historian who has
been already quoted, " were fettered or prevented by the game laws,
and the restrictions intended for their support. Game of the most
destructive kind, such as wild boars and herds of deer, were permitted
to go at large through spacious districts, without any enclosure to
protect the crops. Numerous edicts existed, which prohibited hoeing
and weeding, lest the young partridges should be disturbed; mowing
hay, lest the eggs should be destroyed ; taking away the stubble lest
the birds should be deprived of shelter ; manuring with night soil,
lest their flavour should be injured. Complaints for the infraction of
these edicts were all carried before the manorial courts, where every
species of oppression, chicanery, and fraud was prevalent. Fines
were imposed at every change of property in the direct and collateral
line ; at every sale to purchasers ; the people were bound to grind
their corn at the landlord's mUl, press their grapes at his press, and
bake their bread at his oven. Obligations to repair the roads, founded
on custom, decrees, and servitude, were enforced with the most rigor-
ous severity ; in many places the use even of'handmills was not free,
and the seigneurs were invested with the power of selling to the pea-
sants the right of bruising buckwheat or barley between two stones.
It is vain to attempt a description of the feudal services which pressed
with so much severity in every part of France." Mr. Young, who
travelled through France about this period, bears equal testimony to
the wretched condition of the peasantry. " With a very few excep-
tions," he observes, " they were in the most indigent state — their
houses, dark, comfortless, and almost destitute of furniture — their
dress ragged and miserable — their food the coarsest and most humble
fare. They were oppressed by their feudal superiors with a variety
of the most galling burdens." No wonder that when the Revolution
at length broke out, these slaves of ages rose enthusiastically at the
the first summons of the demagogues and anarchists !
Another just cause of discontent was the intolerable pride and inso-
vol. i. — 2 I
* INTRODUCTION.
lence of the old aristocratic families. These men were spell-bound
by the clmrm of caste — the veriest slaves to conventional etiquette.
They built up a wall of demarcation between themselves and the rest
of the community, as if they were fashioned of more " precious por-
celain ;" held all the useful arts of life in lofty contempt; and were
'ealous of even the slightest whisper of opposition to their caprices.
While the mind of the whole Tiers-itat was on the stir, they stood
dtock still. The most unequivocal signs of the times they either per-
verted to their own advantage, or treated as portents of no account.
Inordinately attached to freedom in theory — a passion engendered by
the writings of the philosophers — they repudiated the bare idea in
practice. As for any thing like a middle class, they scorned to recog-
nise the existence of such a vulgarity — an insult which the men of
that class felt so keenly, that, by way of avoiding it, they used, when
they had the means of doing so, to purchase a patent of nobility.
But this only made matters worse, for the old families became so
jealous of these Parvenus, as they called them, that even when the
•Revolution threatened to sweep away all orders of nobility into one
common grave, they could not be prevailed on to combine for their
mutual safety. In every stage of the grand crisis, up to the period of
their emigration, their motto was " no surrender." They were re-
solved rather to perish than degrade themselves by even a temporary
alliance with the nobles of mere yesterday !
Extremes, it is said, meet ; but this was not the case as respects the
highest and lowest classes in France. The former held no kindly in-
tercourse with the latter ; and though possessing, in conjunction with
the clergy, two-thirds of the whole estates of the kingdom, yet they
were for the most part non-residents on their property, wasting in the
dissipation of Paris those means which should have been employed
in ministering to the comforts and happiness of their dependants.
Having thus contrived to alienate the affections of the peasantry,
equally with the esteem and confidence of the middle classes, who
can be surprised that the nobility foundered, like a leaky vessel, in the
very first hurricane of the Revolution 1
The ecclesiastical establishment of France was in the same diseased
state. All persons of plebeian birth were diligently excluded from its
dignities. However splendid might be their talents, and unsullied
their character, they were yet doomed to labour at the oar for life.
They withered — to quote the emphatic expression of Colonel Napierin
his history of the Peninsular War — "beneath the cold shade of Aris-
tocracy." Hence, when the great explosion took place, it had the
sympathies of all the humbler clergy, who supported the cause of
INTRODUCTION. »
freedom with the weight of their moral influence, and did not with-
draw from it, till it evinced symptoms of degenerating into anarchy.
In the army things were little better ordered. The abuses in the
distribution of the pay and the accoutrements of the different
regiments were notorious ; and while the spirit of innovation was
making rapid headway among the soldiers, the higher officers were
enthusiastic in their admiration of the starch Prussian discipline. As
if this hobby were not sufficiently hazardous, these aristocratic marti-
nets procured the adoption of a regulation, which even Louvois would
never have dreamed of sanctioning, that a hundred years of nobility
was necessary to qualify an officer ! True, this order was rescinded
shortly after its promulgation, but it did not tend the less to inflame
the discontents of the untitled military. The French guards, in par-
ticular, who being in constant intercourse with the citizens of Paris,
soon caught the prevalent fever of innovation, warmly resented such
arbitrary conduct on the part of the heads of the army, and at the
breaking out of the Revolution were the very first to set the example
of defection.
While all these malign influences were at work, the grand struggle
for independence took place in America. This event startled France
like a thunder-clap. Adieu now to all hope of escape from Revolu-
tion ! The heather is on fire, and nothing can check the progress of
the conflagration. Within the precincts of the palace, in the saloons
of fashion, and universally among the Tiers-btat, nothing is talked of
but the gallantry of the transatlantic patrots. Washington is the hen) —
Franklin the phdosopher of the day. Carried away by the general
enthusiasm, and glad no doubt of such an opportunity of humbling
the pride, and increasing the difficulties of England — although his
private correspondence would seem to show otherwise — Louis XVI.
took the desperate resolution of supplying the insurgent colonies with
funds and troops. It was the misfortune of this prince, who possessed
many excellent private and public qualities, to do every thing with the
best intentions, and to succeed in nothing. " As for the King" — says
Mr. Carlyle in his eloquent analytical history of the Revolution — " he,
as usual, will go wavering cameleon-like, changing colour and pur-
pose with the colour of his environment — good for no kingly use."
This is well observed of Louis. He was as " infirm of purpose" as
Macbeth, swayed now by the counsels of the Queen, now by those of
the Assembly, and giving in a bold adhesion to neither. In assisting
the American rebels he took the most suicidal step that it was possible
for a monarch, situated as he was, to take ; for, when his troops re-
turned home— and they constituted the flower of the young noblesse
XU INTRODUCTION.
and the army — they brought back with them opinions and feeling*
until then proscribed in France ; talked loudly of the duty of resist-
ance to despotic authority ; and thus gave an irreparable shock to the
tottering throne of Louis. The grand final shock, however, was given
by the derangement of the national finances, whose annual deficit,
amounting to above seven millions sterling, compelled the reluctant
monarch to summon the States-General, and thus admit the necessity
of a radical change in the Government — in other words, to sanction
those innovations which could not terminate otherwise than in Revo-
lution.
It is at this period that M. Thiers's history commences. The open-
ing portions of this work present a dramatic picture of the most
striking character. We see in the foreground groups of rejoicing, con-
stitutional patriots ; Mirabeau is there, with the eloquent leaders of the
Gironde, whom Dumouriez has styled, and not without justice, the
" Jesuits of the revolution ;" there, too, are Lafayette and Bailly,
men in whom a sincere monarch may have confidence ; but grimly
scowling in the back-ground — for the republican pear is not yet fully
ripe — lurk the frightful figures of Robespierre and the Hebertists,
biding their time to turn this scene of national exultation, into one of
tears and blood, despair and raging madness. But enough of this. —
Ring the bell — draw up the curtain — and let the drama begin.
PREFACE
BY THE AUTHOR
I purpose writing the history of a memorable revolution, which has
profoundly agitated the minds of men, and which still continues to
divide them. I disguise not from myself the difficulties of the under-
taking ; for passions, which were supposed to have been stifled under
the sway of military despotism, have recently revived. All at once
men bowed down by age and toil have felt resentments, which, accord-
ing to appearance were appeased, awaken within them, and they have
communicated them to us, their sons and heirs. But if we have to
uphold the same cause, we have not to defend their conduct, for we
can separate liberty from those who have rendered it service or dis-
service ; whilst we possess the advantage of having observed those
veterans, who, still full of their recollections, still agitated by their im-
pressions, reveal to us the spirit and the character of parties, and teach
us to comprehend them.* Perhaps the moment when the actors are
about to expire is the most proper for writing this history : we can col-
lect their evidence without participating in all their passions.
Be this as it may, I have endeavoured to stifle within my own bo-
som every feeling of animosity : I alternately figured to myself that,
born in a cottage, animated with a just ambition, I was resolved to ac-
* " Tho people never revolt from fickleness, or the mere desire of change. I
is the impatience of suffering which alone has this effect."— Sully's Memoirs. E.
XIV PREFACE
quire what the pride of the higher classes had unjustly refused me ;
or that, bred in palaces, the heir to ancient privileges, it was painful
to me to renounce a possession which I regarded as a legitimate pro-
perty. Thenceforward I could not harbour enmity against either
party ; I pitied the combatants, and I indemnified myself by admiring
generous deeds wherever I found them.
HISTORY
OF THE
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
Every body is acquainted with the revolutions of the French mo-
narchy. It is well known that the Greeks, and afterwards the Romans,
introduced their arms and their civilization among the half savage
Gauls ; that subsequently the Barbarians established their military
hierarchy among them ; that this hierarchy, transferred from persons
to lands, struck root, as it were, and grew up into the feudal system.
Authority was divided between the feudal chief called king, and the
secondary chiefs called vassals, who in their turn were kings over their
own dependants. In our times, when the necessity for preferring mu-
tual accusations has caused search to be made for reciprocal faults,
abundant pains have been taken to teach us that the supreme authori-
ty jjkvas at first disputed by the vassals, which is always done by those
who are nearest to it ; that this authority was afterwards divided
among them, which constituted feudal anarchy ; and that at length it
reverted to the throne, where it concentrated itself into despotism,
under Louis XI., Richelieu, and Louis XIV.
The French population had progressively enfranchised itself by in-
dustry, the primary source of wealth and liberty. Though originally
agricultural, it soon devoted its attention to commerce and manufac-
tures, and acquired an importance that affected the entire nation. In-
troduced as a supplicant into the States-General, it appeared there in
no other posture than on its knees, in order to be grievously abused.
In process of time, even Louis XIV. declared that he would have no
more of these cringing assemblies ; and this he declared to the parlia-
ments, booted and whip in hand. Thenceforth were seen, at the head
of the state, a king clothed with a power ill defined in theory, but ob-
16 HISTORY OF THE
solute in practice ; grandees who had relinquished their feudal dig-
nity for the favour of the monarch, and who disputed by intrigue what
was granted to them out of the substance of the people ; beneath them
an immense population, having no other relation to the court and the
aristocracy than habitual submission and the payment of taxes. Be-
tween thqgcourt and the people were parliaments invested with the
power of administering justice and registering the royal decrees. Au-
thority is always disputed. If not in the legitimate assemblies of the
nation, it is contested in the very palace of the prince. It is well
known that the parliaments, by refusing to register the royal edicts,
rendered them ineffective : this terminated in • a bed of justice' and a
concession when the king was weak, but in entire submission when
the king was powerful. Louis XIV. had no need to make concessions,
for in his reign no parliament durst remonstrate ; he drew the nation
along in his train, and it glorified him with the prodigies which itself
achieved in war and in the arts and sciences. The subjects and the
monarch were unanimous, and their actions tended towards one and
the same point. But no sooner had Louis XIV. expired, than the Re-
gent afforded the parliaments occasion to revenge themselves for their
long nullity. The will of the monarch, so profoundly respected in
his life-time, was violated after his death, and his last testament was
cancelled. Authority was then thrown into litigation, and a long strug-
gle commenced between the parliaments, the clergy, and the court, in
sight of a nation worn out with long wars and exhausted by supplying
the extravagance of its rulers, who gave themselves up alternately to a
fondness for pleasure and for arms. Till then it had displayed no skill
but for the service and the gratification of the monarch : it now began
to apply its intelligence to its own benefit and the examination of its
interests.
The human mind is incessantly passing from one object to. another.
From the theatre and the pulpit, French genius turned to the moral
and political sciences : all then became changed. Figure to yourself,
during a whole century, the usurpers of all the national rights quar-
relling about a worn-out authority; the parliaments persecutinir the
clergy, the clergy persecuting the parliaments ; the latter disputinmthe
authority of the court ; the court, careless and calm amid this struggle,
squandering the substance of the people in the most profligate de-
bauchery ; the nation, enriched and roused, watching these disputes,
arming itself with the allegations of one party against the other, de-
prived of all political action, dogmatizing boldly and ignorant ly, be-
cause it was confined to theories ; aspiring, above all, to recover its
rank in Europe, and offering in vain its treasure and its blood to re-
gain a place which it had lost through the weakness of its rulers.
Such was the eighteenth century.*
* " Since the reijrn of the Roman emperors profligacy had never been conducted
in so open and undisguised a manner, as under Louis XV. and the Regent Orleans.
The reign of Louis XV. is the mo.-t deplorable in French history. IT we seek for
the characters who governed the ape, we must search the antechambers of the Duke
de Choiseul, or the boudoirs of Madame Pompadour or Du Bnrri. The whole
frame of society seemed to be discomposed. Statesmen were ambitious to figure as
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 17
The scandal had been carried to its height when Lonis XVI., an
equitable prince, moderate in his propensities, carelessly educated, but
naturally of a good disposition, ascended the throne at a very early
age. He called to his side an old courtier, and consigned to him
the care of his kingdom; and divided his confidence between Maurepas
and the Queen, an Austrian princess, young, lively, and amiable, ' who
possessed a complete ascendency over him. Maurepas and the Queen
were not good friends. The King, sometimes giving way to his minis-
ter, at others to his consort, began at an early period the long career
of his vacillations. Aware of the state of his kingdom, he believed
the reports of the philosophers on that subject ; but, hrought up in the
most Christian sentiments, he felt the utmost aversion for them. The "
public voice, which was loudly expressed, called for Turgot, one of
the class of economists, an honest, virtuous man, endowed with firm-
of character, a slow genius, but obstinate and profound. Con-
vinced of his probity, delighted with his plans of reform, Louis XVI.
frequently repeated : " There are none besides myself and Turgot
who are friends of the people." Turgot's reforms were thwarted by
the opposition of the highest orders in the state, who were interested
in maintaining all kinds of abuses, which the austere minister pro-
posed to suppress. Louis XVI. dismissed him with regret. During
his whole life, which was only a long martyrdom, he had the mortifi-
cation to discern what was right, to wish it sincerely, but to lack the
energy requisite for carrying it into execution.t
The King, placed between the court, the parliaments, and the peo-
ple, exposed to intrigues and to suggestions of all sorts, repeatedly
changed his ministers. Yielding once more to the public voice, and
to the necessity for reform, he summoned to the finance department
Necker, a native of Geneva, who had amassed wealth as a banker, a
partisan and disciple of Colbert, as Turgot was of Sully ; an econo-
mical and upright financier, but a vain man, fond of setting himself up
for arbitrator in every thing — philosophy, religion, liberty ; and, mis-
led by the praises of his friends and the public, flattering himself
that he could guide and fix the minds of others at that point at which
his own had stopped.J
men of letters, men of letters as statesmen; the great seigneurs as bankers the far-
mers-general as great seigneurs. The fashions were as ridiculous as the arts were
misplaced." — Alison's French Revolution. E.
* " It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France at Ver-
sailles, and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more
delightful vision! I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the ele-
vated sphere she just beijan to move in, glittering like the morning star, full of life,
and splendour, and joy." — Burke's Reflections. E.
t " Turgot, of whom Malesherbes said, ' He has the head of Bacon and the heart
of l'Hopital,' aimed at extensive reforms, and laboured to effect that which the revo-
lution ultimately completed, the suppression of every species of servitude and ex-
clusive privilege. But he had excited the jealousy of the courtiers by his reforms,
of the parliaments by the abolition of the corvies, and of Maurepas by his ascendency
the monarch." — Mignct. E.
( " J. Necker wis the son of a tutor in the college of Geneva. He began life as
a clerk to M. Thellusson, a banker at Paris, whose partner he afterwards became,
and in die course of twelve or fourteen years his fortune surpassed that of the first
bankers. He then thought of obtaining some place under government, bat be SI
TOL. I. 3. 1
18 HISTORY OF THE
Necker re-established order in the finances, and found means to de-
fray the heavy expenses of the American war. With a mind more
comprehensive, but less flexible, tlian that of Turgot, possessing more
particularly the confidence of capitalists, he found, for the moment,
unexpected resources, and revived public credit. Hut it required
something more than financial artifices to put an end to the embar-
rassments of the exchequer, and he had recourse to reform, lie
found the higher orders not less adverse to him than they had been to
Turgot ; the parliaments, apprised of his plans, combined against him ;
and obliged him to retire.
The conviction of the existence of abuses was universal ; every body
admitted it ; the King knew and was deeply grieved at it. The cour-
tiers, who derived advantage from these abuses, would have been glad
to see an end put to the embarrassments of the exchequer, but without
its costing them a single sacrifice. They .descanted at court on the
state of affairs, and there retailed philosophical maxims ; they deplo-
red, whilst hunting, the oppressions inflicted upon the farmer ; nay,
they were even seen to applaud the enfranchisement of the Americans,
and to receive with honour the young Frenchmen who returned from
the New World.* The parliaments also talked of the interests of the
first aimed only at the office of first commissioner of finance, to attain which be en-
deavoured to acquire a literary reputation, ami published a panegyric ou <
Necker was beginning to enjoy some degree of reputation when T
graced, and anxious to profit by the dissipation in which the new minis
lived, he presented statements to M. de Man re pas in which he exaggerated thi i
ces ofthe state. The rapid fortune of Necker induced a favourable opinion of his ca-
Sacity, and aAer Clugny died he was united with his successor, M. Taboureau del
leaux, an appointment which he obtained partly by the assistance of the Murqoii i!e
Pezay. After eight months' administration, Necker. on the 'id of July. 17T7. com-
pelled his colleague to resign, and presented his accounts in 1781. Shortly after, he
endeavoured to take advantage of the public favour, and aspired to a plica in the
council. He insisted on it, and threatened to resign; but he was the duj
presumption, and was suffered to retire. In 17>7 be returned to France, and wrote
against Calonne, who had accused him as the causp ofthe deficiency in the fin
this dispute ended in the exile of Necker; but, in 1788, when the general displeasure
against Brienne terrified the court, he was again appointed controller-general, but,
feeling himself supported by the people, he refused to accept the post, unless on the
condition of not labouring in conjunction with the prime minister. Eager lor popu-
lar applause, Necker hoped to govern every thing by leading the King to hope for
an increase of power, and the people for a speedy democracy, by the debasement of
the higher orders and the parliaments. The report which he made to the conned on
the 27th of December, 1788, respecting the formation of the States-General, proved
the first spark which lighted the combustible matter that had long been pr<
On the 11th of July, when the court thought fit to declare against the faction?
■er, who had become absolutely their sentinel in the very council of the Kirnr. was
dismissed: but on the ltith the assembly wrote him a letter, expressing their
at his withdrawal, and informed him Uiat they had obtained his recal. His return
from Basle to Paris was one continued triumph. During the remainder of the
year he was constantly presenting new statements on the resources of tin revenue ;
but he soon perceived that his influence was daily diminishing. At last, the famous
Red Book appeared, and completely put an end to Ins popularity; so that in the
mouth of December he determined to fly. after having seen the populace tear from
the gate of his house, the inscription, 'To the adored minister.' He died at <
on the Bab of April. JnI4, alter a short but painful illners."— From a Meuioir of
Necker in the Biogrupltie Modernr. I .
* " The American war was the great change which blew into a flame the embera
of innovation. Such was the universal enthusiasm which seized upon France at its
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 19
people, loudly insisted on the sufferings of the poor, and yet opposed
the equalization of the taxes, as well as the aholitiou of the remain*
of feudal barbarism. All talked of the public weal, few desired it : and
the people, not yet knowing who were its Hue friends, applauded all
those who resisted power, its most obvious enemy.
By the removal of Turgot and Meeker, the state of affairs was not
changed: the distress of the treasury remained the same. Those m
power would have been willing to dispense, for a long time to come,
with the intervention of the nation, but it was absolutely necessary to
subsist — it was absolutely necessary to supply the profusion of the
court. The difficulty, removed for a moment by the dismissal of a
minister, by a loan, or by the forced imposition of a tax, appeared
again in an aggravated form, like every evil injudiciously neglected.
The court hesitated, just as a man does who is compelled to take a
dreaded but an indispensable step. An intrigue brought forward M.
de Calonne, who was not in good odour with the public, because he
had contributed to the persecution of La Chalotais. Calonne, clever,
brilliant, fertile in resources, relied upon his genius, upon fortune, and
upon men, and awaited the future with the most extraordinary apathy.
It was his opinion that one ought not to be alarmed beforehand, or to
discover an evil till the day before that on which one intends to set
about repairing it. He seduced the court by his manners, touched it
by his eagerness to grant all that it required, afforded the King and
every body else some happier moments, and dispelled the most gloomy
presages by a gleam of prosperity and blind confidence.*
That future which had been counted upon now approached : it be-
came necessary at length to adopt decisive measures. It was impos-
sible to burden the people with fresh imposts, and yet tip coffers were
empty. There was but one remedy which could be applied ; that was
to reduce the expenses by the suppression of grants ; and if this expe-
dient should not suffice, to extend the taxes to a greater number of
contributors, that is, to the nobility and clergy. These plans, attempt-
ed successively by Turgot and Necker, and resumed by Calonne,
appeared to the latter not at all likely to succeed, unless the consent
of the privileged classes themselves could be obtained. Calonne,
therefore, proposed to collect them together in an assembly, to be called
the Assembly of the Notables, in order to lay his plans before them,
and to gain their consent either by address or by conviction. The as-
sembly was composed of distinguished members of the nobility, clergy,
and magistracy, of a great number of masters of requests and some
commencement, that nobles of the highest rank, princes, dukes, and marquises, soli-
cited with impatient zeal commissions in the regiments destined to aid the insur-
gents. The passion for republican institutions increased with the successes of the
American war, and at length rose to such a height as to infect even the courtiers of
the palace. The philosophers of France used every method of flattery to bring
over the young nobles to their side; and the profession of liberal opinions became
as indispensable a passport to the saloons of fashion as to the favour of the people."
— Alison's French Revolution. E.
" To all the requests of the Queen, M. Calonne would answer, 'If what your
t) asks i~ possible, the thing is done; if it is impossible, it •hall be done' "'
— WtsGT. Memoirs. E.
\
20 HISTORY OF THE
magistrates of the provinces. By means of this composition, and
still more by the aid of the chief popular gentry and philosophers,
whom he had taken care to introduce into this assembly, Calonne
flattered himself that he should be able to carry his point.
The too confident minister was mistaken. Public opinion bore
him a grudge for occupying the place of Turgot and Necker. De-
lighted in particular that the minister was obliged to render an account,
it supported the resistance of the Notables. Very warm discussions
ensued. Calonne did wrong in throwing upon his predecessors, and
partly on Necker, the existing state of the exchequer. Necker replied,
was exiled, and the opposition became the more obstinate. Calonne
met it with presence of mind and composure. He caused M. de
Miromenil, keeper of the seals, who was conspiring with the parlia-
ments, to be dismissed. But his triumph lasted only two days. The
King, who was attached to him, had, in engaging to support him,
promised more than he could perform. He was shaken by the repre-
sentations of the Notables, who promised to sanction the plans of
Calonne, but on condition that a minister more moral and more del-
ing of confidence should be appointed to carry them into execution.
The Queen, at the suggestion of the Abbe de Vermont, proposed to
the King and prevailed on him to acceptanew minister, M.de Brienne,
Archbishop of Toulouse, and one of the Notables who had contri-
buted most to the ruin of Calonne, in hopes of succeeding him.
The Archbishop of Toulouse, a man of weak mind and obstinate
disposition, had from boyhood set his heart upon becoming minister,
and availed himself of all possible means in pursuing this object of
his wishes. He relied principally on the influence of women, whom
he strove to please, and in which he succeeded. He caused his ad-
ministration of Languedoc to be every where extolled. If, on attain-
ing the post of minister, he did not obtain the favour which Necker
had enjoyed, he had at least, in the eyes of the public, the merit of
surperseding Calonne. At first, he was not prime minister, but he
soon became so. Seconded by M. de Lamoignon, keeper of the
seals, an inveterate enemy to the parliaments, he commenced his ca-
reer with considerable advantages. The Notables, bound by the pro-
mises which they had made, readily consented to all that they had at
first refused : land-tax, stamp-duty, suppression of the gratuitous ser-
vices of vassals, (rorve.es) provincial assemblies, were all cheerfully
granted. It was not these measures themselves, hut their author,
whom they pretended to have resisted. Public opinion triumphed.
Calonne was loaded with execrations ; and the Notables, supported
by the public suffrage, nevertheless regretted an honour gained at the
cost of the greatest sacrifices. Had M. de Brienne known how to profit
by the advantages of his position ; had lie actively proceeded with the
execution of the measures assented to by the Notables; had he sub-
mitted then all at once and without delay to the parliament, at the
instant when the adhesion of the higher orders seemed to be wrung
from them; all wouhl prohabU have been over : the parliament, press-
ed on all sides, would have consented to every thing, and this conces-
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
21
lion, though partial and forced, would probably have retarded for a
long time tbe struggle which afterwards took place.
Nothing of the kind, however, was done. By imprudent delays oc-
casion was furnished for relapses ; the edicts were submitted only one
after another ; the parliament had time to discuss, to guin courage,
and to recover from the sort of surprise by which the Notables had been
taken. It registered, after long discussions, the edict enacting the
second abolition of the corvicst and another permitting the free expor-
tation of corn. Its animosity was particularly directed against the
land-tax ; but it feared lest by a refusal it should enlighten the public,
and show that its opposition was entirely selfish. It hesitated, when
it was spared this embarrassment by the simultaneous presentation of
the edict on the stamp-duty and the land-tax, and especially by open-
ing the deliberations with the former. The parliament had thus an
opportunity of refusing the first without entering into explanations res-
pecting the second ; and, in attacking the stamp-duty, which affected
the majority of the payers of taxes, it seemed to defend the interest of
the public. At a sitting which was attended by the peers, it denounced
die abuses, the profligacy, and the prodigality of the court, and de-
manded statements of expenditure. A councillor, punning upon the
ttatS) (statements,) exclaimed, " Ce ne sontpas des itats mais des itats-
gintrauxqvfilnousfauV — " It is not statements, but States-General that
we want." This unexpected demand struck every one with astonish-
ment. Hitherto people had resisted because they suffered; they had
seconded all sorts of opposition, favourable or not to the popular cause,
provided they were directed against the court, which was blamed for
every evil. At the same time they did not well know what they ought
to demand : they had always been so far from possessing any influence
over the government, they had been so habituated to confine them-
selves to complaints, that they complained without conceiving the idea
of acting, or of bringing about a revolution. The utterance of a single
word presented an unexpected direction to the public mind : it was re-
peated by every mouth, and States-General were loudly demanded.
P'Espremenil, a young councillor, a vehement orator, an agitator
without object, a demagogue in the parliaments, an aristocrat in the
States-General, and who was declared insane by a decree of the Con-
stituent Assembly — d'Espremenil showed himself on this occasion
one of the most violent parliamentary declaimers. But the opposi-
tion was secretly conducted by Dupont, a young man of extraordinary
abilities, and of a firm and persevering character, the only one, per-
haps, who, amid these disturbances, had a specific object in view,
and was solicitous to lead his company, the court, and the nation, to
a very different goal from that of a parliamentary aristocracy.
The parliament was divided into old and young councillors. The
first aimed at forming a counterpoise to the royal authority, in order
to give consequence to their company. The latter, more ardent and
more sincere, were desiroui of introducing liberty into the state, yet
without overturning the political system under which they were born.
The parliament made an important admission : it declared that it had
not the power to grant imposts, and that to the States-General alone
)6
22 HISTORY OF THE
belonged the right of establishing them ; and it required the King to
communicate to it statements of the revenues and the expenditure.
This acknowledgment of incompetence and usurpation, for the
parliament had till then arrogated to itself the right of sanctioning
taxes, could not but excite astonishment. The prelate minister, irri-
tated at this opposition, instantly summoned the parliament to Ver-
sailles, and caused the two edicts to be registered in ' a bed of justice.'
The parliament, on its return to Paris, remonstrated, and ordered an
inquiry into the prodigalities of Calonne. A decision in council
instantly annulled its decrees, and exiled it to Troycs.
Such was the state of affairs on the 15th of August, 1787. The
Ring's two brothers, Monsieur and the Count d'Artois, were sent, the
one to the Court of Accounts, and the other to the Court of Aids, to
have the edicts registered there. The former, who had become popu-
lar on account of the opinions which he had expressed in the Assembly
of the Notables, was hailed with acclamations by an immense multi-
tude, and conducted back to the Luxembourg amidst universal
plaudits. The Count d'Artois, who was known to have supported
Calonne, was received with murmurs ; his attendants Mere attacked,
and it was found necessary to have recourse to the armed force.
The parliaments lnid around them numerous dependants, composed
of lawyers, persons holding situations in the palace, clerks, and stu-
dents ; an active bustling class, ever ready to bestir themselves in their
behalf. With these natural allies of the parliaments were united the
capitalists, who dreaded a bankruptcy ; the enlightened classes, who
were devoted to all the opposers of power ; and lastly, the multitude,
which always sides with agitators. Serious disturbances took place,
and the supreme authority had great difficulty to suppress them.
The parliament sitting at Troves met every day and called causes.
Neither advocates nor solicitors appeared, and justice was suspended,
as it had been so many times during the preceding century. Mean-
While the magistrates became weary of their exile, and M. de Brieuna
was without money. He boldly maintained that he did not want any,
and tranquillized the court, uneasy on this single point ; but, destitute
of supplies, and incapable of putting an end to his difficulties by au
energetic resolution, he entered into negotiation with some of the mem-
bers of the parliament. 11 is conditions wrrv a loan of four hundred
and forty millions (of livres,) payable by instalments, in four jean
the expiration of which the states-General should be convoked. At
this rate Hriennc was willing to renounce the two imposts, the objects
of so much discord. Having made sure of some members, he ima-
gine.! that he was sure of the whole company, and the parliament was
died on the 10th of September.
A royal sitting was held on the ;J0th of the same mouth. The King
M-ent In person to present the edict enacting the creation of the stie-
give loan and the convocation of the St.iti s-t .'eneral in li\e rears.
Nb explanation hud been given respecting the nature of this sitting,
and it was not known whether it was * a bed of justice1 or not. I
looks nt' the members tfere gldbmy, and a profound silence prevailed,
when the Duke of Orleans rose with agitated countenance and all the
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
23
signs of strong emotion ; he addressed the King, and asked him if
this sitting were * a bed of justice,' or a free deliberation. " It is a
royal sitting," replied the King. The councillors Freteau, Sabatier,
and d'Espremenil, spoke after the Duke of Orleans, and declaimed
with their usual violence. The registration was immediately enforced :
Freteau and Sabatier were exiled to the Hieres Islands, and the Duke
of Orleans to Villers-Cotterets. The States-General were postponed
for live years.
Such were the principal events of the year 1787. The year 1788
commenced with fresh hostilities. On the fourth of January the par-
liament passed a decree against lettres de cachet, and for the recul of
exiled persons. The King cancelled this decree ; the parliament con-
firmed it anew.
Meaawhile the Duke of Orleans, banished to Villers-Cotterets,
could not endure his exile. This prince, in quarrelling with the court,
hail reconciled himself with public opinion, which was at first unfa-
vourable to him. Destitute alike of the dignity of a prince and the
firmness of a tribune,* he was incapable of enduring so slight a pun-
* " Louis-Philippe-Joseph, Duke of Orleans, one of the French princes of the blood,
was born at St. Cloud on the 13th of April, 1747, and rendered the title of Due de
Chartres, which he bore till his father's death, celebrated by his depravity. He was in
stature below the middle size, but very well made, and his features were regular and
f leasing, till libertinism and debauchery covered them with red, inflamed pustules.
le was very early bald ; was skilled in all bodily exercises ; kind and compassion-
ate in his domestic relations, and endowed with good natural abilities, though igno-
rant and credulous. As he was to succeed the Due de Penthievre in the office of
high admiral, he thought fit, in 1778, to make a naval campaign, and commanded the
rearguard of M. d'Orvilliers' fleet in the battle off Ushant, in which he was on»4»oard
an ~4-gun ship. It was then assiduously rumoured that the Due de Chartres had
concealed himself in the hold of the shm ; which seems improbable, as the vessel in
which he was, was never within reach of the cannon. The court, however, took up
this injurious auecdote, and, when he appeared, overwhelmed him with epigrams ; the
King too, instead of making him highadmiral, appointed him colonel-general of the
hassari — a singular and contemptuous reward for sea-service, which is said to have
partly laid the foundation of his hatred for Louis. Some time afterwards he ascended
in a balloon; and as a few years before he had gone down into a mine, where he was
said to have shown but little self-possession, it was stated that he had thought proper
to show all the elements his cowardice. On the death of the Comte de Clermont he
got himself appointed master of all the masonic lodges in France. Iu 1787 his father
died, and he then took the title of Duke of Orleans, and sought to render himself
popular. By the advice of his creatures, he opposed the King in the royal meeting on
the. l'Jth of November, 1787, and wasexiled to Villers-Cotterets ; but in return for the
sums be lavished on the journalists, he soon became the idol of the populace. Ano-
ther method which he successfully put in practice to obtain the favour of the peo-
ple, was to buy up corn, and then relieve those who were languishing under the artifi-
cial scarcity. In 1788-9, public tables were spread and fires lighted, by his order, for
the paupers of the metropolis, and sums of money were likewise distributed among
them. In the very earliest meetings, he protested against the proceedings of his
chamber, and joined that of the ticrsttut, with the dissentient members of his order.
From tins period he divided his time between the meetings of the national assembly
and those of his own advisers, who assembled first at the Palais Royal, and afterwards
at Paasy. On the 'M\ of July he was nominated president of the national assembly ;
out he reAlsed the post, and busied himself in corrupting the regiment of French
guards, and in preparing the events of July the 14th. Lafayette having menaced
him with the tribunals if he did not leave France, be went over to England ; hut at the
end nf eight months returned, ami was received with transport by the Jacobins. In
J7L>1 31 Thevenard, before he resigned the administration of the marine, caused thu
24 HISTORY OF THE
ishment, and, in order to obtain his recal, lie descended to solicitations
even to the Queen, his personal mm -my.
Brienne was exasperated by obstacles without possessing energy to
to overcome them. Feeble in Europe against Prussia, to which he
sacrificed Holland — feeble in France agairtft the parliament and the
grandees of the state — he bad now no supporter but the Queen, and,
moreover, was frequently checked in Ins operations by ill health, lie
neither knew how to suppress insurrection nor bow to enforce the re-
trenchments decreed by the King ; and, notwithstanding the rapidly
approaching exhaustion of the exchequer, be affected an inconceiva-
ble: security. Meanwhile, amidst all these difficulties, be did not
neglect to obtain new benefices for himself, and to heap new dignities
upon his family.
Lamoignon, the keeper of the seals, a man of a stronger mind but
possessing less influence than the Archbishop of Toulouse, concern il
with him a new plan for accomplishing the principal object, that of
destroying the political power of the parliaments. It was of import-
ance to keep it secret. Every thing was prepared in silence : private
letters were sent to the commandants of the provinces ; the office
where the edicts were printed was surrounded with guards. It was
intended that the plan should not be known till the moment of its
communication to the parliaments. That moment approached, and
it was rumoured that an important political ad was m preparation.
D'Espremenil, the councillor, contrived to procure a copy of the
edicts, by bribing one of the printer's men ; be then repaired to the
palace, summoned his colleagues to assemble, and boldly denounced
the plans of the minister.
According to this plan, the too extensive authority of the parliament
of Paris was to be abridged, by the establishment of six great buill,
duke to be appointed admiral of France, for which the bitter went to thank the King
in person, and to assure him how grossly he had been misrepresented. When, i
ever, he appeared at the levee, all the courtiers insulted him in the most outrageous
manner, to which he would never be persuaded that their majesties w< re not privy,
and this excited his irreconcilable enmity against them. On the 1 5th of September,
1792, the commune of Paris authorized him to assume the name of I'.galile for bittwt If
and his descendants, and deputed him to the national convention. \\ hen the K
trial took place, the Duke ol Orleans voted for the death of his cousin with a dej
of coolness which irritated the majority of the Jacobius themselves, and en
murmurs throughout the assembly. ' >n the fatal day he came to the Place de Levis
XV., and was present during the execution inau open carriage; as soon as the body
was removed, he returned to the Palais Koyal, and went in a carriage drawn b
horses to revel at Kaiucy with his accomplices. It was then said that the Prince of
Wales, having been informed of his conduct on this occasion, lore in pieces liiv por-
trait, which he had left him. Towards the end of April, Robespierre caused his
name to be erased from the list of Jaoofcjm, though Elf all tf had sworn to the Con-
vention, on the 4th of the same month , that if hbeon, (the present King of France,) who
had just fled with Dainouriex, was guilty, the image of Urutus. which W
his eyes, would remind him ol his duty. Soon afterwards a warrant was issued for
hisarrest; he was removed to the prison of I] \ nuMittw1 Bspti-
vity, sent to take his trial at Paris. As ■ Mattel <>i < nurse, the rc\ olutionary tribunal
found him guilty, and he was guillotined on the GUi of .November. IT'.U, when he
was forty -six yean of age. If shrugged Ins shoulder* on hearing the people hits
and curse hmi as he was led to death, and cried out, 'They used to applaud an
From an article in the Bwgraphu Modcrnc. L.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 25
in its jurisdiction. The power of judging without appeal, and of re-
gistering the Jaws and edicts, was to be transferred to a plenary court,
composed of peers, prelates, magistrates, and military officers;
all appointed by the king. Even the captain of tbe guard was to have
a deliberative voice in it. This plan attacked the judiciul autbority of
the parliament, and utterly annihilated its political power. The com-
pany, struck with consternation, knew not what course to pursue. It
could not deliberate upon a plan which had not been submitted to it;
at the same time it was of importance that it should not suffer itself to
be taken by surprise. In this embarrassment it had recourse to an
expedient at once linn and adroit, — that of recapitulating and con-
firming in a decree all that it called constitutional laws of the mo-
narchy, taking care to include in the number its own existence and
rights. By this general measure it by no means forestalled the sup-
posed projects of the government, and secured all that it wished to
secure.
In consequence, it was declared, on the 5th of May, by the parlia-
ment of Paris :
" That France was a monarchy governed by a king, according to
the laws ; and that among these laws, several, which were fundamen-
tal, embraced and consecrated : 1. The right of the reigning house
to the throne, from male to male, in the order of primogeniture ; 2. The
right of the nation to grant subsidies freely through the organ of the
States-General, regularly convoked and composed ; 3. The customs
and capitulations of the provinces ; 4. The irremoveability of the
magistrates ; 5. The right of the courts to verify in each province the
edicts of the king, and not to order the registration of them, unless
they were conformable to the constitutive laws of the province, as well
as to the fundamental laws of the state ; 6. The right of each citizen
not to be tried in any manner by other than his natural judges, who
were those appointed by the law ; and, 7. The right, without which all
the others were useless, of not being arrested by any order whatever,
unless to be delivered without delay into the hands of competent judges.
The said court protested against all attacks which might be made upon
the principles above expressed."
To this energetic resolution the minister replied in the usual way,
always injudicious and ineffectual — he adopted violent measures
against some of the members of the parliament. D'Espremenil and
Cioislart de Monsalbert, being apprized that they were threatened,
sought refuge amidst the assembled parliament. An officer, Vincent
d'Agoult, repaired thither at the head of a company ; and, not know-
ing the persons of tbe magistrates designated, he called them by their
names. The deepest silence at first pervaded the assembly : all the
councillors then cned out that they were d'Espremenil. At length
the real d'Espremenil declared who he was, and followed the officer
ordered to arrest him. The tumult was then at its height ; the popu-
laee accompanied the magistrates, bailing them with shouts of ap-
plause. Three days afterwards, the King, in a bed of justice, caused the
• diets to be registered, and the assembled princes and peers exhibited
an image of that plenary court which was to succeed the parliaments.
vol. i.— 4. 2
i
26
HISTORY OF THE
The Chatelet immediately issued a decree against the edicts. The
parliament of Rennes declared all who should belong to the plenary
court infamous. At Grenoble, the inhabitants defended their magis-
trates against two regiment*. The troops themselves, excited to disobe-
dience by the military noblesse, soon refused to act. When the com-
mandant of Dauphinc assembled his colonels, toinquirc if their soldiers
were to be relied, upon, all of them kept silence. The youngest, who
was to speak first, replied that no reliance was to be placed on his,
from the colonel downwards. To this resistance the minister opposed
decrees of the great council, which cancelled the decisions of the
sovereign courts, and he punished eight of them with exile.
The court, annoyed by the higher orders, which made war upon it in
espousing the interests of the people and calling for their interference,
had recourse, on its part, to the same means. It resolved to summon
the tiers-etat (the third estate) to its aid, as the kings of France had
formerly done to break lie the feudal system. It then urged, with all
its might, the convocation of the States-General. It ordered investi-
gations respecting the mode of their assembling ; it called upon wri-
ters and learned bodies to give their opinions ; and, whilst the assem-
bled clergy declared on its part that a speedy convocation was desira-
ble, the court, accepting the challenge, suspended at the same time the
meeting of the plenary court, ami fixed the opening of the States-
General for the first of May, 1789. Then followed the retirement of
the Archbishop of Toulouse, who, by bold plans feebly executed, had
provoked a resistance, which he ought either not to have excited or to
have overcome. And on quitting office he left the exchequer in dis-
tress— the payment of the rentes of the Hotel de V'ille suspended — all
the authorities in hostility — all the provinces in arms. As for himself,
possessing an income of eight hundred thousand francs from bene-
fices, the archbishopric of Sens, and a cardinal's hat, if he did not
make the public fortune, he at least made his own. By his last piece
of advice he recommended to the King torecal Keeker to the ministry
of the finances, that he might fortify himself with his popularity
against oppositions which had become unconquerable.
It was during the two years 1787 and 1788 that the French were
desirous to pass from vain theories to practice. The struggle between
the highest authorities excited the wi.-h, and tarnished the occasion, to
do so. Daring the whole course of the century, the parliament had
attacked the clergy, and exposed its ultramontane predilections. Af-
ter the clergy, it had attacked the court, condemned its abuses of pow-
er, and denounced its extravagance. Threatened with reprisals, and
attacked, in its turn, in its existence, it had at length just restored to
the nation prerogatives which the court would have wrested from it
for the purpose of transferring them to an extraordinary tribunal.
\ r haying thus apprised the nation of its rights, it had everted its
energies in exciting and protecting insurrection. On the other hand,
the high clergy in delivering their charges, the nobility in fomenting
the disobedieuce of the troop-, had joined their elforts to those of the
magistracy, and summoned the people to arms in behalf of their pri-
vileges.
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
27
The court, pressed by these various enemies, had made but a feeble
it 'distance. Aware of the necessity of acting, yet always deferring
the moment for doing so, it had at times abolished some abuses, rath-
er for the benefit of the exchequer than of the people, and then sank
again into inactivity. At length, finding itself attacked on all sides,
observing that the higher orders were calling the people1 into the lists,
lived to introduce them there itself by convoking the States-
General. Hostile during the whole of the century to the philosophic
spirit, it now appealed to the latter, and submitted the constitutions of
the kingdom to its investigation. Thus the first authorities of the
state exhibited the singular spectacle of usurpers disputing the pos-
session of an object before the face of the rightful owner, and at last
even calling upon him to act as judge between thein.
Such was the state of affairs when Necker returned to the ministry.
Confidence followed him; credit was instantly restored ; the most ur-
gent difficulties were removed. He provided, by means of expedients,
for indispensable expenses, till the meeting of the States-General, the
remedy that was universally called for.
The <rreat questions relative to their organization began to be dis-
cussed. It was asked what part the tiers-etat would have to act there ;
whether it would appear as an equal or a supplicant ; whether it
would obtain a representation equal in number to that of the two
higher orders ; whether the discussions would be carried on by indivi-
duals or by orders ; and whether the tiers would not have merely a sin-
gle voice against the two voices of the nobility and clergy.
The first question discussed was that relative to the number of the
deputies. Never had philosophic controversy of the eighteenth century
excited such agitation. People's minds became warmed by the positive
importance of the question. A keen, concise, energetic writer, took,
in this discussion, that place which the greatest geniuses of the age
had occupied in the philosophical discussions. The Abbd Sieyes, in a
book which <jave a powerful impulse to the public mind, asked this
>n : •' What is the tiersttat V And he answered : " Nothing.*'
— " What ought it to bel"— " Every thing."*
•The states of Dauphine assembled in spite of the court. The two
higher orders, more adroit and more popular in that country than any
Where else, decided that the representation of the third estate should be
* '• Bonaparte said to me one day, ' Tint fool Sieyes is as credulous as a Cassan-
dra.' In the intercourse, not very frequent certainly, which I had with him, he
appeared to be far beneath the reputation which he had acquired. He reposed a
blind confidence in a multitude of agents, whom be had sent into all parts of I' ran DO.
had written in his countenance, ' Give me money.' I recollect that I one day
alluded to this expression in the anxiou* face of Sieyes to the first consul. ' You
are right.' observed be to me, smiling, ' when money u in question. Sieves isquite a
of-fact man. He sends his ideology to the right about, and thus becomes
easily manageable. He readily abandon* his constitutional dreams for a good round
Mm, and that is very convenient.' M. de Talleyrand, who is so capable ofestimating
m mi, and wiiose admirable sayings well deserve to occupy a place in history, had
ntertainedan indifferent opinion of Sieyes. One lay. when he waaconven^pg
with the second consul concerning him, Carabaeeres said: ' Sieyes, however, is a
v. tv profound man.' ' Profound!' said Talleyrand, 'yes, he is a cavity, a perfect
cavity, as you would say.' " — Bourr'unnt'i 2Icinoirs of S'npolson. E.
28 HISTORY OF THE
equal to that of the nobility and the clergy. The parliament of Paris,
foreseeing already the consequence of its improvident provocations,
perceived plainly that the tiers-itat was not coming in as auxiliary,
but as master ; and, in registering tbe edict of convocation, it enjoined,
as an express clause, the maintenance of the forms of 1614, which
reduced the third order to a mere cipher. Having already rendered
itself unpopular by the difficulties which it had thrown in the way of
the edict that restored civil rights to Prostestants, it was on that day
completely unmasked, and the court fully revenged. It was the first
to experience the instability of popular favour ; but, if at a later pe-
riod the nation might appear ungrateful towards chiefs whom it forsook
one after another, on this occasion it had good reason to turn its back
on the parliament, for that body stopped short before the nation had
recovered any of its rights.
The court not daring to decide these important questions itself, or
rather desirous of depriving the two higher orders of their popularity
for its own benefit, asked their opinion, with the intention of not adopt-
ing it, if, as it was probable, that opinion should be unfavourable to the
tiers-Hat. It summoned therefore a new Assembly of Notables, in
which all the questions relative to the holding of States-General were
brought forward. The discussions were warm : on the one hand,
great stress was laid on ancient traditions ; on the other, on natural
rights and reason. Even in going back to traditions, the cause of the
tiers-itat still had the advantage ; for, in opposition to the forms of
1614 demanded by the higher orders, forms yet more ancient were
adduced. Thus, in certain assemblies, and on certain points, the
members had voted individually ; sometimes they had deliberated by
provinces, not by orders ; frequently the deputies of the tiers had
equalled in number the deputies of the nobility and clergy. "Why
then refer to ancient usages 1 Had not the powers of the state been
in a continual revolution 1 The royal authority, at first sovereign, then
vanquished and despoiled, raising itself again with the aid of the
people, and again uniting all the powers in its own hands, exhibited
a perpetual conflict and an ever-changing position. The clergy
were told, that if they were to take ancient times for their standand,
they would cease to be an order ; the nobles, that the possessors of fiefs
only were qualified to be elected, and that thus most of them would be>
excluded from the deputation ; the parliaments themselves, that they
were but unfaithful officers of royalty ; lastly, all were assured that
the French constitution had been but one long revolution, during
which each power had successively predominated ; that every thing
had been innovation, and that amid this vast conflict it was for reason
alone to decide.
The tiers-itat comprehended nearly the whole nation, all the use-
ful, industrious, enlightened classes. If it possessed but a portion of
the lands, at least it wrought thorn all ; and according to reason, it
was not too much to allow to it a number of deputies equal to that of
the two other orders.
The Assembly of Notables declared itself against what was called
the doubling of the third estate. One of the government offices, that
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
»
over which Monsieur, the king's brother, presided, voted fur this
doubling.* The court, then, taking, ns it said, into consideration the
opinion of the minority, the Sentiments expressed by several princes of
tire Mood, the wishes of the three orders ofDauphinJ, the demand of
the provincial assemblies, the example of several countries of the king-
dom, the opinion of various public writers, and the recommendations
contained in a great number of addresses — the court ordained, that the
total number of the deputies should be at least a thousand ; that it
should he formed in a ratio composed of the population and the amount
of taxes paid by each baillage, and that the number of the deputies of
the tiers-itai should be equal to that of the other two orders united.
This declaration excited universal enthusiasm. As it was attributed
to .Neeker, it raised him in the favour of the nation, and gained him
the increased enmity of the great.t Still it decided nothing as to the
vote by individuals or by orders, but it included it by implication ;
for it was useless to augment the number of votes if they were not to
be counted ; and it left the tiers-ktat to seize by main force what was
refused to it at the moment. It therefore conveyed an idea of the weak-
ness of the court, and of Neeker himself. That court included an
assemblage of inclinations which rendered any decisive result impos-
sible. The King was moderate, equitable, studious, and too distrust-
ful of his own abilities ; loving the people, and readily listening to
their complaints. He was nevertheless seized at times wi.h su-
perstitious terrors, and fancied that he beheld anarchy and impiety
marching hand in hand with liberty and toleration. The philosophic
spirit in its first flights could not but commit extravagances, and a timid
and religious king could not help being alarmed at them. Overcome,
at every step, by weakness, terror, and uncertainty, the unfortunate
Louis XVI. resolved for his own part to make every sacrifice. Not
knowing how to impose such conduct on others, the victim of his in-
dulgence for the court, of bis condescension to the Queen, he expiated
all the faults which he had not committed, but which became his own
because he winked at their commission. The Queen, engrossed by
pleasure, dazzling all around her by her charms, was desirous that
her husband should enjoy tranquillity, that the exchequer should be
full, that the court and her subjects should adore her.J Sometimes
* " This resolution was carried by the single casting vote of Monsieur, who was
afterwards Louis XVIII. When it was reported to Louis XVI., he observed, ' J,et
them add mine, I give it willingly.' " — Labaume. E.
t " The concessions of Neeker were those of a man ignorant of the first principle^
of the government of mankind. It was he who overturned the monarchy, audi
brought Louis XVI. to the scaffold. Marat, Danton, Robespierre himself, did less!
mischief to France. Neeker was die author of all the evils which desolated Franco)
during the Revolution; all the blood that was shed rests on his head." — liourriennc' s
Memoirs of Napoleon. E. ""*"•
t Madame le Brim, the celebrated painter, in her Memoirs, written by herself, draws
the following picture of this princess:
"It was in the year 1771) that I painted for the first time the portrait of the Queen,
then in the flower of her youth and beauty. Marie Antoinette was ta.l fc] quisitely
well made, sufficiently plump without being too much so. Her arnn v,k superb,
her hands small, perfect in form, and her feet charming. Her gait wan r oie grace-
ful than thaf of any woman in France ; she held her head very erect, ,v;th a majesty
30 HISTORY OF THE
she concurred with the King for the purpose of effecting reforms,
when the necessity for them nppeared urgent. At others, on the con-
trary, when she conceived the supreme authority to be threatened, and
her court friends despoiled, she stopped the King, removed the popu-
lar ministers, and destroyed at once the means and hopes of improve-
ment. She yielded more especially to the influence of a portion of
the nobility who lived around the throne, fattening on favours and
abuses. This court nobility was solicitous, no doubt, like the Queen
herself, that the King should have wherewithal to supply a lavish pro-
fusion ; and from this motive it was inimical to the parliaments when
they refused taxes, but became their ally when they defended its pri-
vileges, by refusing, under specious pretexts, the territorial impost
Amidst these contrary influences, the King, not daring to face difficul-
ties, to condemn abuses, or to suppress them authoritatively, gave way
by turns to the court and to public opinion, without satisfying either.
If, during the course of the eighteenth century, when the philoso-
phers, assembled in an alley of the Tuileries, wished success to Fre-
derick and the Americans, to Turgot and Necker — if, when they did
not yet aspire to govern the state, but merely to enlighten princes, and
foresaw at most the distant revolutions which the signs of disquietude
and the absurdity of existing institutions fully authorized them to ex-
pect— if the king had spontaneously established some equality in the
official appointments, and given some guarantees, all discontent would
have been appeased for a longtime, and Louis XVI. would have been
as much adored as was Marcus Aurelius.* But when all the autho-
rities had been debased by along struggle, and all the abuses unveiled
by an Assembly of Notables ; when the nation, called into the quar-
rel, had conceived the hope and the will to be something, that will be-
which enabled you to distinguish the sovereign amidst all her court, and yet that
majesty did not in the least detract from the extreme kindness and benevolence of her
look. In short, it is extremely difficult to convey to any one who has not seen the
Queen, any idea of all the graces and alt the dignity that were combined in her. Her
features were not regular ; she derived from her family that Ion;:, narrow oval, pe-
culiar to the Austrian nation. Her eyes were not large ; their colour was nearly blue,
and they had an intellectual and mild expression ; her nose was thin and handsome,
her mouth not too large, though the lips were rather thick. But the most remark-
able thing about her face was the brilliancy of her complexion. I never saw any so
brilliant — yes, brilliant is the word — for her skin was so transparent that it took no
shade. Hence I never could render its effect so as to please myself; I lacked colours
to represent that freshness, those delicate tones, which belonged exclusively to that
fascinating face, and which I never observed in any other woman. As for her con-
versation, it would be difficult for me to describe all its grace, all its benevolence. I
do not think that the Queen Marie Antoinette ever missed an occasion to say an U
able thing to those who had the honour to approach her. During the first sitting
that I had of her majesty on her return from Fontainebleaa, I ventured to remark to
the Queen how much the erectness of her head heightened the dignity of her look.
She answered, in a tone of pleasantry, ' If I were not a Queen, people wool
that I have an insolent look — would they not V " E.
•"The life of Marcus Aurelius was the noblest commentary on the precepts of
Zeno. He was severe to himself, indulgent to the imperfection of others, just and
beneficent to all mankind. War he detested, as the disgrace and calamity of human
nature. His memory was revered by a grateful posterity, and, above a century after
his death, many persons preserved his image among those of their household gods."
Gibbon's Rome. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 31
came imperative. The States-General was promised to the nation ; it
demanded that an early rime should be fixed fortheir convocation; w ben
that time was mar at hand, it insisted on the preponderance in tliem :
this was refused, hnt, in the doubling of the representation, it was fur-
nished with the means of conquering that preponderance. That the
government never yielded hut partially, and when it could no longer
resist; hut then the strength of the nation had increased, it was
aware of its power, and required all that it conceived itself capable of
accomplishing. A continual resistance, irritating its ambition, must
soon have the effect of rendering it insatiable. But even then, if a
great minister, communicating somewhat of energy to the King, con-
ciliating the Queen, bridling the privileged classes, had anticipated
and satisfied at once the national expectations by giving of his own
accord a free constitution ; if he had gratified the impulse to act
which the nation then felt, by summoning it immediately, not to re-
form the state, but to discuss its annual interests in a ready constituted
state — perhaps the conflict would not have taken place, lint it would
have been absolutely necessary to meet the difficulty instead of giv-
ing way to it, and above all to sacrifice numerous pretensions. It
would have required a man of strong conviction, and possessing a re-
solution equal to his conviction ; and this man, no doubt, bold, ener-
getic, perhaps passionate, would have alarmed the court, which desir-
ed no such person. In order to spare at one and the same time the
public opinion and the old interests, the king had recourse to half
measures. He selected, as we have seen, a half-philosophic, half-ener-
getic minister, and who possessed immense popularity, because, at that
time, demi-popular intentions in an agent of power surpassed all
hopes, and excited the enthusiasm of a people, whom the demagogue
spirit of its leaders was very soon afterwards incapable of satisfying.
Men's minds were in a universal ferment. Assemblies were form-
ed throughout France, like those of England, and called by the same
name, that of clubs. Nothing was discussed in them but the abuses
to be abolished, the reforms to be effected, and the constitution to be
established. A rigid inquiry into the state of the country produced
irritation. Its state, political and economical, was in truth intolera-
ble. There was nothing but privileges belonging to individuals, clas-
ses, towns, provinces, and to trades themselves ; nothing but shackles
upon the industry and genius of man. Civil, ecclesiastical, and mili-
tary dignities, were exclusively reserved for certain classes, and in
those classes for certain individuals. A man could not embrace a pro-
fession unless upon certain titles and certain pecuniary conditions.
The towns possessed their privileges for the apportioning the assess-
ment, and the levying of taxes, and for the choice of magistrates.
The very pensions converted by the survivors into family properties,
scarcely allowed the monarch to show any preferences. He had
nothing left to his disposal but a few pecuniary gifts, and he had even
been obliged to quarrel with the Duke de Coigny about the abolition
of a useless place.* All was therefore monopolized by a few hands,
* See Bouill V Mi moires.
32 HISTORY OF THE
ami the burdens bore upon a single class. The nobility and the cler-
gy possessed nearly two thirds of the landed property. The other
third, belonging to the people, paid taxes to the king, a multitude
of feudal dues to the nobility, the tithe to the clergy, and was, more-
over, liable to the devastations of noble sportsmen and their game.
The taxes on consumption weighed heavily on the great nia^, and
consequently on the people. The mode in which they were levied
was vexatious : the gentry might be in arrear with impunity ; the peo-
ple, on the other hand, ill treated and imprisoned, were doomed to
suffer in body in default of goods. It .subsisted, therefore, by the
sweat of the brow ; it defended with its blood the upper classes of so-
ciety, without being able to subsist itself. The bourgeoisie, industri-
ous, enlightened, less miserable certainly than the peasantry, but en-
riching the kingdom by its industry, reflecting lustre upon it by its
talents, obtained none of the advantages to which it had a right.
Justice, administered in some of the provinces by the gentry, in the
royal jurisdictions by magistrates who purchased their offices, was
slow, frequently partial, always ruinous, and particularly atrocious in
criminal cases. Individual liberty was violated by httres de cachet,
and the liberty of the press by the royal censors. Lastly, the state,
ill-defended abroad, betrayed by the mistresses of Louis XV., com-
promised by the weakness of the ministers of Louis XVI., had recent-
ly been dishonoured in Europe by the disgraceful sacrifice of Holland
and Poland.
The popular masses began already to put themselves in motion ;
disturbances had several times broken out during the struggle of the
parliaments, and especially on the retirement of the Archbishop of
Toulouse. That minister had been burned in effigy ; the armed force
had been insulted, and even attacked ; the magistracy had been back-
ward in prosecuting the rioters, who supported their cause. The pub-
lic mind, agitated by these events, full of the confused idea of a speedy
revolution, was in a continual ferment. The parliaments and the
higher orders already saw the arms which they had given to the peo-
ple directed against themselves. In Bretagne, the nobility had op-
posed the doubling of the third estate, and had refused to elect depu-
ties ; the bourgeoisie, who had so powerfully served against the court,
then turned against them, and sanguinary conflicts ensued. The
court, conceiving itself not sufficiently revenged on the Breton nobi-
lity,* refused them its aid, and, on the contrary, imprisoned some <>t*
their number who came to Paris for the purpose of remonstrating.
The elements themselves seemed to be let loose. A hailstorm, on
the 13th of July, had made havoc among the crops, and was likely to
increase the difficulty of supplying Paris, especially amidst the troubles
that were preparing. All the activity of commerce was scarcely suffi-
cient to collect the quantity of provisions necessary for that great capi-
tal ; and it might naturally be expected that it would soon be very
difficult to subsist it, when confidence should be shaken and the com-
munications interrupted by political disturbances. Ever since the
• See Bouille'i Mi
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 3i
cruel winter which had succeeded the disasters of Louis XIV., and
immortalized the charity of IVnelon, M severe a season had not been
known as that of 1788-1789. The beneficence which was then dis-
played in the most affecting manner was not sufficient to alleviate the
wretchedness of the people. A great number of vagabonds, without
profession and without resources, thronged from all parts of France,
and paraded tiieir indigence and their nakedness from Versailles to
Paris. At the slightest rumour, they eagerly came forward to profit
by chances, which are always favourable to those who have every
thing to gain, even to the subsistence for the passing day.*
Thus every thing concurred to produce a revolution. An en-
tire century had contributed to unveil abuses, and to carry them to
excess ; two years to stir up insurrection and to exasperate the popu-
lar masses by making them interfere in the quarrel of the privileged
orders. In short, natural disasters, and a fortuitous concurrence of
various circumstances, brought on the catastrophe, the epoch of which
might have been deferred, but which was sure to happen sooner or
later.
It was amidst these circumstances that the elections took place.
They were tumultuous in some provinces, active every where, and
very quiet in Paris, where great unanimity prevailed. Lists were dis-
tributed, and people strove to promote concord and a good understand-
ing. Tradesmen, lawyers, literary men, astonished to find themselves
assembled together for the first time, raised themselves up by degrees to
liberty. In Paris, they reappointed themselves the bureaux formed by
the King, and, without changing the persons, asserted their power by
confirming them. The learned Bailly quitted his retreat at Chaillot :
a stranger to intrigues, and deeply impressed with his noble mission,
he proceeded alone and on foot to the assembly. He paused by the
way on the terrace of the Feuillans. A young man, whom he did not
know, respectfully accosted him. " You will be returned," said he.
** I cannot tell," replied Bailly ; " that honour ought neither to be so-
licited nor refused." The modest academician resumed his walk,
repaired to the assembly, and was chosen successively elector and
deputy. V
The election of the Count de Mirabeau was stormy ; rejected by the
nobility, supported by the tiers-btat, he agitated Provence, his native
country, and it was not long before he showed himself at Versailles.
The court had no wish to influence the elections. It was not dis-
pleased to see a great number of curbs returned, reckoning upon their
opposition to the high ecclesiastical dignitaries, and at the same time
* "The charity of Fenelon, which immortalized the disastrous epoch of Louis
XIV., was now equalled by the humane beneficence of the clergy of Paris : but all
their efforts could not keep pace with the immense mass of indigence, which was
swelled by the confluence of dissolute and abandoned characters from every part>of
France. These wretches assembled round the throne, like the sea-birds round the
k, which are the harbingers of death to the sinking mariner, and already appear-
ed in fearful numbers in tht; streets on occasion of the slightest tumult. They were
all in a state of destitution, and for the most [,art owed their life to the charity of the
ecclesiastics, whom they afterwards massacred in cold blood in the prison of Cannes."
— Alison's FrtncJi Revolution. E.
vol, i. — 5 2
34 HISTORY OF THE
upon their respect for the throne. It is true that it did not foresee all that
was to happen ; and in the deputies of the tiers it perceived rather ad-
versaries to the nobility than to itself. The Duke of Orleans v.
cused of taking active steps to procure the nomination of himself and
his partisans;1 Already numbered among the enemies of the court,
the ally of the parliaments, and called for as leader, with or without
his consent, by the popidar party, he was accused of various underhand
practices. A deplorable scene took place in the Fauxbourg St. An-
toine, and, as people are fond of giving an author to all events, it was
laid to hischarge. Reveillon, a manufacturer of stained paper, who
had an extensive manufactory, improving our industry and furnishing
employment to three hundred workmen, was accused of an intention
to reduce their wages to one half. The populace threatened to burn his
house. Means were found to disperse them, but they returned on the
following day ; thehouse was broken into, set on fire, and destroyed.
Notwithstanding the threats held out on the first day by the assailants,
notwithstanding the meeting agreed upon for the second, the authorities
were very late before they began to act, and then they acted with extreme
severity. They waited till the people had made themselves masters of the
house, they then attacked them with fury, and were obliged to slaughter
a great number of those ferocious and intrepid men, who afterwards
showed themselves on all occasions, and received the name of brigands.
All the parties which were already formed accused each other; the
court was reproached with its first tardy and afterwards cruel proceed-
ings ; it was supposed that it wished to leave the people time to act
that it might make an example and exercise its troops.
The money found on the destroyers of Reveillon's house, and the
expressions that dropped from some of them, led to the conjecture that
they were urged on by a secret hand. The enemies of the popular
party accused the Duke of Orleans of a wish to try his revolutionary
bands.
That prince had been endowed with excellent qualities. II'
inherited immense wealth ; but, addicting himself to dissolute habits,
he had abused all these gifts of nature and offortune. Without consis-
tency of character, alternately regardless of public opinion and greedy
of popularity, he was bold and ambitious one day, docile and absent
on the morrow. Havingquarrelled with the Queen, he had become an
enemy to the court. When parties began to form themselves, lie had suf-
fered his name to be employed, and it is said, his wealth also. Flal
with the vague prospect before him, he was active enough to draw ac-
cusation on himself, though not to ensure success; and his partisans,
if they entertained any serious plans, must have been driven to despriir
by his inconstant ambition.
The moment of the convocation at length nrrived. In this common
danger, the higher orders, creeping close to the court, had grouped
themselves around the princes of the blood and the Queen. They
strove by flattery to gain the country gentlemen, and in their ab
they ridiculed their clownishnrss. The clergy endeavoured to irain
over the plebeians of its order, and the military noblesse those belong-
ing !© \he same class with itself. The parliaments, which had expect-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 35
fcd to play the principal part in the States-General, hegan to apprehen J.
that their ambition had miscalculated. The deputies of the tiers-Mat,
strong in the superiority of their talents, in the energetic eloquence of
their speeches, encouraged by continual intercommunication, nay,
spurred on by the doubts which many had conceived respecting thf
success of their efforts, had taken the firm resolution not to yield.
The King alone, who had not enjoyed a moment's repose since tho
commencement of his reign, regarded the States-General as the ter
ruination of his embarrassments. Jealous of his authority, rather for
the sake of his children, to whom he deemed it his duty to transmit
this patrimony entire, than for his own, he was not displeased to restore
a portion of it to the nation, and to throw upon it the difficulties of tho
government. Accordingly, it was with joy that he made preparations
for this grand assemblage. A hall had been hastily got ready ; the
costumes were determined upon, and a humiliating badge had been
imposed on the tiers-Mat. Men are not less jealous of their dignity
than of their rights: with a very just pride, the instructions forbade the
deputies to condescend to any degrading ceremonial. This new fault
of the court originated, like many others, in the desire to preserve at
least the symbols when the realities had ceased to exist. It could not
but produce a deep irritation at a moment when, before attacking, the
parties began to measure one another with their eyes.
On the 4th of May, the day of the opening, a solemn procession
toolc place. The King, the three orders, all the great dignitaries of
the state, repaired to the church of Notre-Dame. The court had dis-
played extraordinary magnificence. The two higher orders were splen-
didly dressed. Princes, dukes and peers, gentlemen, prelates, were
clad in purple, and wore hats with plumes of feathers. The deputies
of the tiers-Hat, covered with plain black cloaks, came next; and,
notwithstanding their modest exterior, they seemed strong in their
number and their prospects. It was remarked that the Duke of Or-
leans, placed in the rear of the nobility, chose rather to lag behind,
and to mingle with the foremost deputies of the third estate.
This national, military, and religious pomp — those pious chants —
those martial instruments — and, above all, the importance of the event
— deeply moved all hearts. The discourse delivered by the Bishop of
Nanci, full of generous sentiments, was enthusiastically applauded,
notwithstanding the sacredness of the place and the presence of the
King. Great assemblages elevate us. They detach us from ourselves
and attach us to others. A general intoxication was diffused, and all
at once many a heart felt its animosities subside, and became filled for
a moment with humanity and patriotism.*
■ I should not quote the following passage from the M6moires of Ferrieres, if base
detractors had not ventured to carp at every thing in the scenes of the French Revo-
lution. The passage which I am about to extract will enable the reader to judge of
the effect produced upon the least plebeian hearts by the national solemnities of this
grand epoch.
• I yield to the pleasure of recording here the impression made upon me by this
iuigustand touching ceremony; I shall transcribe the account of it which I then
wrote down, whilst sail full of what I had felt. If this passage is not historical, it
will perhaps have a stronger interest for some readers.
QZ<xf
\
36 HISTORY OF THE
The opening of the States-General took place on the following dar,
MayV5 1789:*'" The King was seated on an elevated throne, the
Queen beside him, the court in stalls, the two higher order? on both
sides, the tiers-itat at the farther end of the hall, and on lower seats.
" The nobility in black coats, the other garments of cloth of gold, silk cloak, lace
cravat, plumed hat turned up a In Henri IV. ; the clergy insurplice, wide mantle, square
cap : the bishops in their purple robes, with their rochets ; the tiers dressed in black,
with silk mantle, and cambric cravat. The King placed himself on a platform richly
decorated ; Monsieur, the Count d' Artois, the princes, the ministers, the great ofli-
cers of the crown, were seated below the King; the Queen placed herself opposite
to tin.' King; Madame, the Countess d' Artois, the princesses, the ladies of the
court, superbly dressed and covered with diamonds, composed a magnificent retinue
for her. The streets were hung with tapestry belouging to the crown; the regi-
ments of the French and Swiss guards formed a line from Notre-Dame to St. Louis;
an immense concourse of people looked on, as we passed, in respectful silence ; the
balconies were adorned with costly stuffs, the windows filled with spectators of all
ages, of both sexes, lovely women elegantly attired : every face bespoke kindly emo-
tion, every eye sparkled with joy; clapping of hands, expressions of the warmest
interest, the looks that met us and that still followed after we were out of sight
. . . . .rapturous, enchanting scene, to which I should vainly strive to do jus-
tice ! Bands of music, placed at intervals, rent the air with melodious sounds ; mi-
litary marches, the rolling of drums, the clang of trumpets, the noble chants of the
priests, alternately heard, without discordance, without confusion, enlivened this tri-
umphal procession to the temple of the Almighty.
" Plunged into the most delicious ecstacy, sublime but melancholy thoughts soon
presented themselves to my mind. I beheld that France, my country, supported by
Religion, saying to us, Desist from your puerile quarrels ; this is the decisive moment
which shall either give me new life or annihilate me for ever! Love of country,
thou spakest to my heart ! .... What ! shall a handful of ambitious madmen,
base intriguers, seek by tortuous ways to disunite my country ? — shall they found their
destructive systems on insidious advantages? — shall they say to thee, Thou hast two
interests ; and all thy glory and all thy power, of which thy neighbours are so jealous,
shall vanish like a light smoke driven by the southern blast? No, I swear to thee,
that my parched tongue shall cleave to my palate, if ever I forget thy grandeurs and
thy solemnities.
•' What splendour this religious display shed over that wholly human pomp ! With-
out thee, venerable Religion, it would have been but an empty parade of pride ; but
thou purifiest and sanctifiest, thou heightenest grandeur itself; the kings, the mighty
' of the age, they too, by at least a show of reverence, pay homage to the King of
kings Yes, to God alone belong honour, empire, glory! T
sacred ceremonies, those hymns, those priests clothed iii the dress of sacrifice, those
perfumes, that canopy, that sun resplendent with gokl and jewels I
called to mind the words of the prophet: ' Daughters of Jerusalem, your Kingcom-
eth ; put on your nuptial robes, and hasten to meet him.' Tears of joy trickled from
my eyes. My God, my country, my fellow-citizens, had become identified with
myself.
"On their arrival at St. Louis, the three orders seated themselves on benches placed
in the nave. The King and Queen took their places beneath a canopy of purple
velvet, sprinkled with golden fleurs-dc4is ; the princes, the princesses, the g
"dicers of the crown, and the ladies of the palace, occupied the space reserved for
their majesties. The host was carried to the altar to the souud of the most impressive
music. It was an O salujtaris Hustia ! This natural, but true and melodious vocal
performance, unencumbered by the din of instruments which drown the expression;
this mass of voices, rising in well-regulated accord to heaven, convinced me that the
simple is always beautiful, always grand, always sublime Men are
•diots, in their vain wisdom, to treat as puerile the worship that is paid to the Al-
mighty. With what indifference do they view that moral chain which binds man to
(iod, which renders him visible to the eye, sensible to the touch! . . . . M. de
la Fare, Bishop of Manci, delivered tbe discourse. Religion constitutes the strength
of empires; religion constitutes the prosperity of nations. This truth, which nc
wise man ever doubted for a single moment, was not the important question to ho
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
37
A movement arose at the sight of the Count de Mirabeau ; but his
look, his step, awed the assembly.* The tiers-Mat remained covered
like the other orders, notwithstanding the established custom. The
King delivered an address, in which he recommended disinterested-
ness to some, prudence to others, and professed to all his love for his
people. Barentin, the keeper of the seals, then spoke, and was follow-
ed by Necker, who read a memorial on the state of the kingdom, in
which he treated at great length of the finances, admitted a deficit of
fifty-six millions, and weaned by his prolixity those whom he did not
offend by his lessons.
On the next day, the deputies of each order were directed to
the place Strottcd to them. Besides the common hall, which was
sufficiently spacious to hold the three orders united, two other halls
had been erected for the nobility and the clergy. The common hall
was assigned to the tiers ; and it thus had the advantage, whilst in its
own place of meeting, of being in that of the States. The first busi-
ness was the verification of the powers of the members. It became
treated in the august assembly ; the place, the circumstance, opened a wider field :
the Bishop of Nanci durst not, or could not, traverse it.
" On the following day, the deputies met in the hall of the Menus. The assembly
was neither less imposing, nor the sight less magnificent, than the preceding day." —
Mtmoires du Marquis de Ferrieres, torn. i.
* " Excluded from the rank to which his birth entitled him, Mirabeau determined
to recover it at any price. He vowed vengeance against his enemies, and with this
bitterness of feeling did Mirabeau take his seat in the assembly of the States-General.
As he entered the hall, he cast a threatening glance on the ranks which he was not al-
lowed to approach. A bitter smile played on his lips, which were habitually contracted
by an ironical and scornful expression. He proceeded across the hall, and seated
himself on those benches from which he was to hurl the thunderbolts which shook
the throne. A gentleman strongly attached to the court, but likewise a friend of
Mirabeau, who had observed the rancorous look which he darted round him wheu
he took his seat, entered into conversation with him, and pointed out to him that his
peculiar position in the world closed against him the door of every saloon in Paris.
' Consider,' said he, ' that society, when once wounded, is not easily conciliated. If
you wish to be pardoned, you must ask pardon.' Mirabeau listened with impa-
tience, but when his friend used the word ' pardon,' he could contain himself no long-
er, but started up and stamped with violence on the floor. His bushy hair seemed to
stand on end. his little piercing eyes flashed fire, and his lips turned pale and quiver-
ed. This was always the way with .Mirabeau when he was strongly excited. ' I am
come hither,' cried he. in a voice of thunder, ' to be asked, not to ask pardon.' " —
Memoirs of the Duchess d'Abrantes. E.
" Hardly any of the deputies had hitherto acquired great popular reputation. One
alone attracted general attention. Born of noble parents, he had warmly espoused
the popular side, without losing the pride of aristocratic connexion. His talents
universally known, and his integrity generally suspected, rendered him the object of
painful anxiety; harsh and disagreeable features, a profusion of black hair, and a com-
manding air, attracted the curiosity even of those who were unacquainted with his
reputation. His name was Mirabeau, future leader of the Assembly ! Two ladies
of rank, from a gallery, with very different feelings, beheld the spectacle. The one
lame de Montmorin, wife of the minister of foreign affairs; the other, the
illustrious daughter of M. Necker, Madame de Stae'l. The latter exulted in the
boundless prospect of national felicity which seemed to be opening under the auspr
cesof her father. ' You are wrong to rejoice,' said Madame de Montmorin; 'this
event forebodes much misery to Franceandto ourselves.' Her presentiment turned
out too well founded ; she herself perished on the scaffold with one of her sous ; ano-
th"r was drowned; her husband wm massacred in the prisons on September2d;
her eldest daughter was cut off in goal; her youngest died of a broken heart before
*he had attained the age of thirty years." — Alison's French Revolution. E.
38 HISTORY OF THE
a question whether this should take place in common or by separate
orders. The deputies of the fiera,v(iljegit)g..ihat it was of importance
to each portion of the States-GeneraTto satisfy itself of the legitimacy
of the two others, insisted on the verification in common. The nobi-
lity and the clergy, desirous of keeping up the division of orders,
maintained that each ought to constitute itself apart. This question
had nothing to do with that of individual votes, for they might verify
their powers in common and afterwards vote separately, but it nearly
resembled it ; and on the very first day it produced a division, which
it was easy to foresee, and which might have been as easily prevented
by putting an end to the dispute beforehand. But the court never had
the courage either to deny or to grant what was just, and, besides, it
hoped to reign by dividing.
The deputies of the tiers-ttat remained assembled in the general
hall, abstaining from any measure, and waiting, as they said, to be
joined by their colleagues. The nobility and the clergy, retiring to
their respective halls, proceeded to deliberate on the verification. The
clergy voted the separate verification by a majority of 133 to 1 14, and
the nobility by a majority of 188 to 114. The tiers-itat persisting in
its inaction, pursued, on the morrow, the same course as on the pre-
ceding day. It made a point of avoiding any measure which could
cause it to be considered as constituting a separate order. For this
reason, in sending a deputation of its members to the other two cham-
bers, it abstained from giving them any express mission. These
members were sent to the nobility and clergy to inform them that the
titrs-itat was waiting for them in the common hall. The nobility
were not sitting at the moment ; the clergy were assembled, and offer-
ed to appoint commissioners to settle the difference's that had arisen.
They actually appointed them, and invited the nobility to do the same.
In this contest, the clergy manifested a very different spirit from the
nobility. Among all the privileged classes, it had suffered most from
the attacks of the eighteenth century. Its political existence had been
disputed ; it was divided, owing to the great number of its curts ; be-
sides, its professional character was that of moderation and the spirit of
peace. Accordingly, as we have just seen, it offered a sort of mediation.
-T-h^joiibilit^, on the contrary, declined it, by refusing to appoint
commissioners. Less prudent than the clergy, more confident in its
\ rights, conceiving itself not bound to moderation but to valour, it vent-
ed itself in refusals and threats. These men, who never excused nny
passion in others, gave the reins to all their own passions, and, like
all assemblies, they yielded to the domination of the most violent
spirits. Casales and d'Espremenil, recently ennobled, made the most
indiscreet motions, and, after preparing them in a private meeting,
procured their adoption in general assembly. In vain did a minority,
composed of men more prudent or more prudently ambitious, strive
to enlighten these nobles. They would not listen to any thing. They
talked of fighting and dying, and they added, for the laws and jus-
tice. The tiers-ttat, immoveable, endured with patience every insult.
Though irritated, it was silent, conducted itself with the prudence and
firmness of all powers which are commencing their career, and receiv
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
39
«d the applause of the tribunes, originally destined for the court, but
soon taken possession of by the public.
Several days had already elapsed : the clergy had laid snares for
certain nets which would have given it
the character of a constituted order. It had, however, constantly re-
futed to comply; and, taking only indispensable measures of internal
police, it had confined itself to the election of a dean and assistants
for the purpose of collecting opinions. Jtrefused to open the letters
addressed to it, and it declared that it formed noTarr order, but a meet-
ing of citizens assembled by a legitimate authority to wait for other
citizens.
The nobility, after. refusing to appoint conciliatory commissioners,
at length consented to send deputies to arrange matters with the other
orders. But their mission was rendered useless, since it charged them at
the same time to declare that it persisted in its decision of the 6th of
May, which enjoined the separate verification. The clergy, on the con-
trary, adhering to its part, had suspended the verification which it had
at first commenced in its own chamber, and declared itself not consti-
tuted, awaiting the conferences of the conciliatory commissioners.
The conferences were opened: the clergy was silent ; the deputies of
the commons argued their point with calmness, those of the nobility
with warmth. Both parties returned soured by the dispute ; and the
tiers-itat, determined not to give way, was doubtless not displeased to
learn that all compromise was impossible. The nobility was assured
every day by its commissioners that they had the advantage, and this
served to heighten its exaltation. By a transient gleam of prudence,
the first two orders, declared that they renounced their pecuniary privi-
leges. The tiers-itat accepted the concession, but persisted in its re-
fusal to proceed to business, still requiring the common verification.
The conferences yet continued, when it was at length proposed, by
way of accommodating the matter, that the powers should be verified
by commissioners chosen from the three orders. The deputies of the
nobility declared in its name its dissent from this arrangement, and re-
tired without appointing any new conference. Thus the negociation
was broken off". The same day the nobility passed a resolution, by
which it declared anew that for this session the verification should
take place separately, and that it should be left for the States to deter-
mine upon some other mode in future.
This resolution was communicated to the commons on the 27th of
May. They had been assembled ever since the 5th ; twenty-two days
had consequently elapsed, during which nothing had been done. It
was high time to come to a determination. Mirabeau, who gave the
impulse to the popular party,* observed that it was time to decide upon
'
* " Honore Gabriel Riquetti, Comte de Mirabeau, was born in 1749. Youthful
impetuosity and ungovemed passions made the early part of his life a scene of dis-
order and misery. After having been tome time in the army, he married Made-
moiselle de Marignane, a rich heiress in the city of Aix ; but the union was not for-
tunate, and his extravagant expenses deranging his affairs, he contracted debts to the
amount of 300,000 livrea, in consequence of which his father obtained from the
ChAtelet an act of lunacy against him. Enraged at thi«, he went to settlcflt Manosque ;
40 HISTORY OF THE
something, and to commence their labours for the public welfare, \
which had been too long delayed. He proposed, therefore, in conse-
sequence of the resolution passed by the nobility, to send a message
to the clergy, in order to obtain an immediate explanation from it, and
whence he was, on account of a private quarrel, some time afterwards removed, and
shut up in the castle of If; he was then conveyed to that of Joux, in Franche Comte,
and obtained permission to go occasionally to Pontarlier, where he met Sophia de
WutVev, Marchioness of Momuir, wife of a president in the parliament of Besancon.
Her wit and beauty inspired Mirabeau with a most violent passion, and he soon es-
caped to Holland with her, but was for this outrage condemned to lose his head,
and would probably have ended his days far from his country, had not an agent of
police seized him in 1777, and carried him to the castle of Vincennes, where he re-
mained till December, 1780, when he recovered his liberty. The French revolution
soon presented a vast field for his activity ; and, being rejected at the time of the elec-
tions by the nobility of Provence, he hired a warehouse, put up this inscription,
" Mirabeau, woollen-draper," and was elected deputy from the tiers- 1 tat of Aix;
from that time the court of Versailles, to whom he was beginning to be formidable,
called him the Plebeian Count. On the day when the States opened, he looked at
the monarch, who was covered with the crown jewels, and said to those near him. " Be-
hold the victim already adorned !" He soon took possession of the tribune, and there
discussed the most important matters in the organization of society. He had never
at that time conceived the possibility of establishing a democracy in so immense a
state as France. His motive for seeking popularity was solely that he might regulate
a court which he caused to tremble, but the courtcommitted the fault of not seeking
to seduce his ambition. He then connected himself with the Duke of Orleans, from
whom he obtained certain sums that he wanted; but soon perceiving that it was impos-
sible to make any thing of such a clod, he broke off the intimacy in October, 1789. If he
was not one of the principal causes of the events which took place on the 5th and 6th
of that month, the words he made use of before and during that time, give reason
to suppose he was no stranger to them. The next day he made the King new over-
tures, and repeated them shortly after, but they were invariably rejected ; and he then
considered how he should, by new blows, compel the sovereign and his council to
have recourse to him. Not, however, till the end of the session did this take place ;
and then, by the intervention of Madame de Mercy and M. de Montmorin, his debts
were paid, and a pension was granted him. From that time he devoted himself to
strengthening the monarchy, and addressed to the King a statement on the causes of
the revolution, and the methods of putting a stop to it. It may be doubted whether
he could have succeeded in this undertaking; butitis now certain, that, at the moment
of his sudden death, he was busied in a project for dissolving an assembly which ho
could no longer direct. On the 16th of January, 1791, he was appointed a member
of the department of Paris, and on the 31st, president of the National Assembly.
This being the period of his closest connexion with the court, he wished as president
to acquire new celebrity, and show himself capable of directing the assembly ; a de-
sign which he executed with a degree of address admired even by his enemies. On
the 28th of March he was taken ill, and died on the 2d of April, at half-past eight in
the morning, aged forty-two. So short an illness excited a suspicion at first that he
had been poisoned, and all parties mutually accused each other of the crime ; but
when his body was opened, there appeared, as the physicians asserted, no marks of
violence. When on his death-bed, he said openly to his friends, ' I shall carry the
monarchy with me, and a few factious spirits will share what is left.' At the mo-
ment of his death he retained all his fortitude and self-possession ; on the very morn-
ing, he wrote these words : " It is not so difficult to die ;" and at the instant when
his eyes were closing, he wrote, " to sleep." His loss seemed to be considered as a pub-
lic calamity, and it is remarkable that all parties believing him to be in their interests,
joined in regretting him. His obsequies were celebrated with great pomp; all the
theatres were shut; the deputies, the ministers, the members of all the authoritative
assemblies, formed a procession which extended above a league, and which was
four hours marching ; and his body was placed in the Pantheon beside that of Des-
cartes. In November. 1793, his ashes were, by order of the Convention, removed
thence, and scattered abroad by the people, who at the same time burned his bust in
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 41
to ascertain whether it would orwould not meet the commons. The pro-
posal was immediately adopted. Target, the deputy, proceeded at the
head of a numerous deputation, to the hall of "the clergy. " The gentle-
men of the commons," said he, " invite the gentlemen of the clergy, in
the n imi: of the god op peace, and for the national interest, to meet
tin in in the hall of the assembly, to consult upon the means of effecting
the concord so necessary at this moment for the public welfare." The
clergy was struck with these solemn words. A great number of its mem-
bers answered them with acclamations, and would have instantly com-
plied with this invitation, had they not been prevented ; and the reply
given to the deputies of the commons was, that it would deliberate on
tiie subject. On the return of the deputation, the inexorable tiers-itat
determined to await, without breaking up, the answer of tho clergy.
As this answer did not arrive, a message was sent that the commons
wrrr waiting for it. The clergy complained of being hurried,. and
requested to be allowed the necessary time. The tiers-ltat replied
with moderation, that the clergy might take its own time, and that the
nmiiiions would wait, if requisite, the whole day and the whole night.
The situation was difficult. The clergy knew that after its answer
the commons would tall to~~work, and adopt a decisive course. It
wished to temporize, in order to concert with the court. It re-
quired time till the following day, which was granted with regret.
Next day, the King resolved, in accordance with the wishes of the
higher orders, to interfere. At this moment, all the animosities be-
tween the court and the higher orders began to be forgotten, at the
sight of that popular power which rose with such rapidity. The King
at length appeared, and invited the three orders to resume their confer-
ences in the presence of his keeper of the seals. The tiers-Hat, not-
withstanding all that has been said of its projects, upon judgments
formed after the events, did not extend its wishes beyond moderate
monarchy. Knowing the intentions of Louis XVI., it was full of res-
pect for him : and, unwilling to injure its cause by any wrong step,
it replied that, out of deference to the King, it consented to renew the
conferences, though, inconsequence of the declaration of the nobility,
it could not but consider them as useless. To this reply it annexed
the Place de Grove, as an enemy to the republic, and one who had corresponded
with the royal family. Thus did Mirabeau verify what he had himself said, ' that the
Capitol was close to the Tarpeian rock, and that the same people who flattered him
would have had equal pleasure in seeing him hanged.' Mirabeau was of middle
stature ; his face was disfigured by the marks of the smallpox ; and the enormous
quantity of hair on his head gave him some resemblance to a lion. He was of a lofty
character, and had talents which were extraordinary, and some which were sublime ;
ity of diction was unrivalled, and his knowledge of the human heart profound;
but he was essentially a despot, and, had he governed an empire, he would have sur-
Rjchelieu in pride, and Mazarin in policy. Naturally violent, the least resist-
:. flamed him; when he appeared most irritated, his expression had most elo-
quence; and being a consummate actor, his voice and gestures lent a new interest to
all he said. His chief passion was pride; and though his love of intrigue was un-
bounded, it can be ascribed only to his pecuniary necessities. In the last year of
his life he paid immense debts, bought estates, furniture, the valuable library of Buffon,
and lived in a splendid style."— From the article " Mirabkad," in the Biographic
Modernt. E.
vol. i.— 6 2
\
42 HISTORY OF THE
an address, which it charged its dean to deliver to the prince. This
dean was Bailly, a simple and virtuous man, an illustrious and modest
cultivator of the sciences, who had been suddenly transported from the
quiet studies of his closet into the midst of civil broils. Elected to
the presidency over a great assembly, he had been alarmed at his new
office, had deemed himself unworthy to fill it, and undertaken it solely
from a sense of duty. But, raised all at once to liberty, he found
within him an unexpected presence of mind and firmness. Amid so
many conflicts, he caused the majesty of the assembly to be respect-
ed, and represented it with all the dignity of virtue and of reason.
Bailly had the greatest difficulty to penetrate to the Ring. As he
insisted on being introduced, the courtiers reported that he had not
even paid respect to grief of the monarch, affiicted by the death of
the dauphin. He was at length .presented, contrived to avoid every
humiliating ceremonial, and displayed equal firmness and respect.
The King received him graciously, but without entering into any ex-
planation of his intentions.
The government, having decided on making some sacrifices to ob-
tain money, designed, by opposing the orders, to become their umpire.
to wrest from the nobility its pecuniary privileges with the assistance
of the tiers-Uat, and to check the ambition of the latter by means of
the nobility. As for the nobility, having no need to concern itself about
the embarrassments of the administration, caring only for the sacrifi-
ces which were likely to be wrung from it, it hoped to bring about a
dissolution of the States-General, and thus to frustrate the object of
their convocation. The commons, whom the court and the hi.
orders would not recognize by that title, were incessantly acquiring
fresh strength, and, being resolved to brave all dangers, were anxious
not to let slip an opportunity which might never recur.
The conferences demanded by the King took place. The commis-
sioners of the nobifity raised all sorts of difficulties about the title of
commons which the tiers-&tat had assumed, and about the form and
signature of the minutes (procts-vcrbal). At length they entered upon
discussion, and they were almost reduced to silence by the reasons
urged against them, when Necker, in the name of the King, proposed
a new mode of conciliation. Each order was to examine the powers
separately, and to communicate them to the others. In case difficul-
ties should arise, commissioners should report upon them to each cham-
ber, and if the decision of the different orders disagreed, the King was
to judge definitively. Thus the court would settle the dispute to its
own advantage. The conferences were immediately suspended to
obtain the adhesion of the orders. The clergy accepted the pita
purely and simply. The nobility at first received it favourably ; but,
urged by its usual instigators, it rejected the advice of its most discreet
members, and modified the project of conciliation. From that day
must be dated all its disasters.
The commons, apprized of this resolution, waited till it should be
communicated to them in order to explain themaelvea in their turn;
but the clergy, with its ordinary cunning, desirous of bringing them into
bad odour with the nation, sent them a deputation to invite them to
1
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 43
take into consideration, along with it, the distress of the people, which
was daily increasing, that they might lose no time in providing toge-
th. t against the dearth and high price of provisions. The commons,
who would have exposed themselves to the popular odium if they had
appeared indifferent to such a proposal, opposed craft with craft, and
replied that, deeply impressed with the same duties, they awaited the
elrrgyin the great hall, in order to deliberate with it on this important
subject. The nobility then arrived, and solemnly communicated its
resolution to the commons. It adopted, it said, the plan of concilia-
tion, persisting, however, in the separate verification, and referring to
the united orders, and to the supreme jurisdiction of the King, such
difficulties only as might arise respecting the entire deputations of a
whole province. \ « /
This resolution put an end to all the embarrassments of the com- T
i ions. OliliiMcl either to yield or to declare war single-handed against VJ
the higher orders and the throne, if the plan of conciliation had been
adopted, they were relieved from the necessity of explanation, as the
plan had been accepted only with important alterations. The moment
was decisive. To give way on the separate verification was not, in-
deed, giving way on the vote by order ; but to betray weakness once
was to be weak for ever. They must submit to act nearly the part of
a cipher, give money to power, be content with the abolition of a few
abuses, when they saw the possibility of regenerating the state, or
take a strong resolution, and seize by force a portion of the legislative
power. This was the first revolutionary act, but the assembly did not
hesitate. In consequence, all the minutes (prods verbaux) being
signed, and the conferences finished, Mirabeau rose : " Any plan of
concdiation rejected by one party," said he, " can no longer be exam-
ined by the other. A month is past ; it is time to take a decisive step :
a deputy of Paris has an important motion to make — let us hear him."
Mirabeau, having opened the deliberation by his audacity, introduced
to the tribune Sieyes, a man of a comprehensive mind, systematic and
rigorous in his deductions. Sieyes in a few words recapitulated and
explained the motives of the conduct of the commons. They had
waited and had acceded to all the conciliations proposed ; their long
condescension was unavailing ; they could delay no longer without
failing in their duty ; they ought consequently to send a last invita-
tion to the other two orders, to join them for the purpose of commen-
cing the verification. This proposition, based on sufficient motives,*
* I think it right to state here the motives on which the assembly of the commons
founded the resolution which it was about to take. This first act, which commences the
revolution, being of high importance, it is essential to justify the necessity for it, and I
tiii nk this cannot be done better, than by the considerations which preceded the reso-
lution {arrHt) of the commons. These considerations, as well as the arrcU itself,
belong to the Abbo Sieyes.
"The assembly of the commons deliberating on the overture of conciliation pro-
posed by the commissioners of the King, has deemed it incumbent on it to take at the
same time into consideration the resolution (arritf) which the nobility have hastened
to adopt respecting the same overture.
" It has seen that the nobility, notwithstanding the acquiescence at first professed,
soon introduced a modification which retracts it almost entirely, and that consequent-
44 HISTORY OF THE
was received with enthusiasm ; it was even in contemplation to sum-
mon the orders to attend within an hour. The period, however, was
prorogued. The following day, Thursday, being devoted to religious
solemnities, it was postponed till Friday. On Friday, the last invitation
was communicated. The two orders replied that they would consider
of it, and the King that he would make known his intentions. The
call of the baillages began : on the first day, three curis attended and
were hailed with applause ; on the second, six arrived ; and on the
third and fourth ten, among whom was the abbe" Gregoire.
During the call of the baillages and the verification of the powers, a
serious dispute arose concerning the title which the assembly was to
assume. Mirabeau proposed that of Representatives of the French
Jy their resolution (arrttd) on this subject cannot be considered as any other than a
positive refusal.
" From this consideration, and because the nobility have not desisted from their
preceding deliberations, in opposition to every plan of reunion, the deputies of the
commons conceive that it has become absolutely useless to bestow any lurther atten-
tion on an expedient which can no longer be called conciliatory, since it has been
rejected by one of the parties to be conciliated.
" In this state of things, which replaces the deputies of the commons in their origin-
al position, the assembly judges that it can no longer wait inactive for the privileged
classes without sinning against the nation, which has doubtless a right to require a
better use of its time.
" It is of opinion that it is an urgent duty for the representatives of the nation, to
whatever class of citizens they belong, to form themselves, without further delay, into
an active assembly, capable of commencing and fulfilling the object of their mission.
" The assembly directs the commissioners who attended the various conferences,
called conciliatory, to draw up a report of the long and vain efforts of the deputies of
the commons to bring back the classes of the privileged to true principles; it takes
upon itself the exposition of the motives which oblige it to pass from a state of ex-
pectation to a state of action; finally, it resolves, that this report and these motives
shall be printed at the head of the present deliberation.
" But, since itis not possible to form themselves into an active assembly, without pre-
viously recognising those who have a right to compose it. — that is to say. those who are
qualified to vote as representatives of the nation, — the same deputies of the common
deem it their duty to make a last trial with the clergy and the nobility, who claim Uie
same quality, but have nevertheless refused up to the present moment to make them-
selves recognised.
•' Moreover, the assembly, having an interest in certifying the refusal of these two
classes of deputies, in case they should persist in their determination to remain un-
known, deems it indispensable to send a last invitation, which shall be conveyed to
them by deputies charged to read it before them, and to leave them a copy of it in
the following terms :
" ' Gentlemen, we are commissioned by the deputies of the commons of France
to apprize you that they can no longer delay the fulfilment of the obligation imposed
on all the representatives of the nation. It is assuredly time that those who claim
this quality should make themselves known by a common verification of their p
and begin at length to attend to the national interest, which alone, and to the exclu-
sion of all private interests, presents itself as the grand aim to which all the deputies
ought to tend by one general effort. In consequence, and from the necessity which
the representatives of the nation are under to proceed to business, the deputies of the
commons entreat you anew, gentlemen, and their duty enjoins them to address to
you, as well individually as collectively, a last summons to come to the hall of the
states, to attend, concur in, and submit, like themselves, to the common verification
of powers. We are at the same time directed to inform you, that the general call of
all the hiiUliagts convoked will take place in an hour, that the assembly will imme-
diately proceed to the verification, and that such as do not appear will be declared
defaulters.' "
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 46
Pe iph ; Mounier that of Deliberative Majority \n the absence of the
Minority ; Legrand that of National Assembly. This last was adopt-
ed, after a very long discussion, which lasted till the night of the 16th
of Juno. It was one o'clock in the morning, and it became a question
whether the assembly should constitute itself before it broke up, or
should defer that business till the following day. One portion of the
deputies wished that not a moment should be lost, that they might ac-
quire a legal character which should command the respect of the
court. A small number, wishing to impede the operations of the as-
sembly, became extremely violent and uttered furious cries. The two
parties, ranged on the two sides of a long table, reciprocally threaten-
ed each other. Bailly, placed at the centre, was called upon by the
one to adjourn the assembly, by the other to put the motion for
constituting themselves to the vote. Unshaken amidst shouts and
ahuse, he continued for more than an hour motionless and silent. The
weather was tempestuous; the wind blew with violence into the hall,
and added to the tumult. At length the brawlers withdrew. Bailly,
then addressing the assembly, which had recovered its tranquillity on
the retirement of those by whom it had been disturbed, recommended
it to defer till daylight the important act which was proposed. His ad-
vice was adopted, and the assembly broke up, applauding his firmness
and prudence.
Accordingly, on the 17th, the proposition was taken into considera-
tion, and, by a majority of 491 votes against 90, the commons consti-
tuted themselves the National Assembly. Sieyes, again charged to
report the motives of this determination, did it with his accustomed
precision.
" The assembly, deliberating after the verification of the powers,
ascertain that it is already composed of representatives sent directly by
ninety-six hundredths, at least, of the nation. Such a mass of deputa-
tion could not remain inactive on account of the deputies of certain
baillages, or of certain classes of citizens ; for the absent who have
been called, cannot prevent the present from exercising the plenitude
of their rights, especially when the exercise of those rights is an urgent,
an imperative duty.
- .Moreover, as it belongs only to the verified representatives to con-
cur in the national will, and as all the* verified representatives are,to be
admitted into this assembly, it is further indispensable to conclude that
it belongs to it, and to it alone, to interpret and to represent the gene-
ral will of the nation.
"^Therejcajinot exjst any veto, any negative power, between the V> *}>*1
throne and the assembly.
1 The assembly therefore declares that the general labour of the na- '
tion il restoration can and ought to be begun by the deputies present,
and that they ought to prosecute it without interruption and without
impediment.
" The denomination of National Assembly is the only one suitable
to the assembly in the present state of things, as well because the
Members who compose it are the only representatives legitimately and
publicly known and verified, as because they are sent by nearly the
46 HISTORY OF THE
whole of the nation ; and, lastly, because, the representation being one
and indivisible, none of the deputies, for whatever order or class he
has been elected, has a right to exercise those functions separately
from this assembly.
" The assembly will never relinquish the hope of collecting in its
bosom all the deputies that are now absent ; it will not cease to call
them to fulfil the obligation imposed upon them to concur in the hold-
ing of the States-General. At whatever moment the absent deputies*
present themselves during the session that is about to be opened, it
declares beforehand, that it will be ready to receive them, and to share
with them, after the verification of their powers, the series of important
labours which are to accomplish the regeneration of France."
Immediately after passing this resolution (arrite), the assembly,
desiring at once to perform an act of its power, and to prove that it had
no intention to impede the course of the administration, legalized the
levy of the taxes, though imposed without the national consent. With
a presentiment of its separation, it added that they should cease to be
levied from the day on which it should be broken up ; foreseeing,
moreover, a bankruptcy, the expedient left to power for putting an end
to the financial embarrassments, and dispensing with the national con-
currence, it satisfied prudence and honour by placing the creditors of
the state under the safeguard of French integrity. Lastly, it announced
that it should immediately direct its attention to the causes of the
dearth and of the public distress.
These measures, which displayed equal courage and ability, pro-
duced a deep impression. The court and the higher orders were alarm-
ed at such courage and energy. Meanwhile, the clergy was tumul-
tously deliberating whether it should join the commons. The multi-
tude awaited outside the hall the result of its deliberation ; the a
at length carried the point, and it was learnt that the union had been
voted by a majority of 149 votes to 115. Those who had voted for
the junction were received with transports of applause; the oti
were abused and insulted by the populace.
This moment was destined to bring about a reconciliation betw
the court and the aristocracy. The danger was equal for both. Tin-
last revolution was as prejudical to the King as to the two higher or-
ders themselves, whom the commons declared that they could aisp
with. The aristocracy immediately threw itself at the feet of th*' K
The Duke of Luxembourg, the Cardinal de Larochefoucauld, tin-
Archbishop of Paris, implored him to repress the audacity of the
tiers-itat, and to support their rights, which were attacked. Tin-
parliament proposed to him to do without the States, promising to
assent to all the taxes. The King was surrounded by the princes and
the Queen ; this was more than was requisite for his weakness : thej
hurried him off to Marly in order to extort from him a vigorous
measure.
Necker, the minister, attached to the popular cause, confined himself
to useless remonstrances, which the King thought just when his mind
was left free, but the effect of which the court soon took good care to
destroy. As soon as he perceived the necessity for the interference of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 47
the royal authority, he formed apian which, to his courage, appeared
very bold. He proposed that the monarch, in a royal sittinu, should
command the union of the orders, but only for measures of general
interest"; that he should assume to himself the sanction of all resolu-
tions adopted by the States-General ; that he should condemn before-
hand every institution hostile to moderate monarchy, such as that of
a single assembly ; lastly, that he should promise the abolition of pri-
vileges, the equal admission of all Frenchmen to civil and military ap-
pointments, Sec. As Necker had not had the energy to outstrip time
for such a plan, so likewise he had not sufficient to ensure its exe-
cution.
xTJhe council had followed the King to Marly. There Necker's
plan, at first approved, was subjected to discussion; all at once a
note was delivered to the King ; the council was suspended, resumed,
and adjourned till the following day, in spite of the necessity for the
utmost despatch. On the morrow, fresh members were added to the
council ; the King's brothers were of the number. Necker's plan
was modified ; he resisted, made some concessions, but finding him-
self vanquished, returned to Versailles. A page came three times
bringing him notes containing new modifications ; his plan was wholly
disfigured, and the royal sitting was fixed for the 22d of June.
It was as yet but the 20th, and already the hall of the States was
shut up, under the pretext that preparations were requisite for the
presence of the King. These preparations might have been made in
half a day ; but the clergy had deliberated the day before upon join-
ing the commons, and it was desirable to prevent this junction. An
order from the King instantly adjourned the sittings till the 22d.
Uailly, conceiving that he was bound to obey the assembly, which, on
Friday, the 19th, had adjourned to the next day, Saturday, repaired
to the door of the hall. It was surrounded by soldiers of the French
guard, who had orders to refuse admittance to every one. The offi-
cer on duty received Bailly with respect, and allowed him access to a
court for the purpose of drawing up a protest. Some young hot-
headed deputies would have forced their way through the sentries ;
Bailly hastened to the spot, appeased them, and took them with him,
that the generous officer, who executed the orders of authority with
such moderation, might not be compromised. The deputies collected
tumultuously ; they persisted in assembling ; some proposed to hold
a sitting under the very windows of the King, others proposed the
Tennis-Court. To the latter they instantly repaired ; the master
cheerfully gave it up to them. __ i O
The hall was spacious, but the walls were dark and bare. There A
wore no seats. An arm-chair was offered to the president, who re-
fused it, and chose rather to stand with the assembly ; a bench served
for a desk : two deputies were stationed at the door as door-keepers,
and were soon relieved by the keeper of the place, who came and
offered his services. The populace thronged around, and the delibe-
ration commenced. Complaints were raised on all sides against this
suspension of the sittings and various expedients were proposed to
prevent it in future. The agitation increased, and the extreme parties
\
1$
48 HISTORY OF THE
began to work upon the imaginations of their hearers. It wns
proposed to repair to Paris : this motion, hailed with enthusiasm, wo*
warmly supported ; and they began to talk of proceeding thither in a
body and on foot. Bailly was apprehensive that violence might be
offered to the assembly by the way : dreading, moreover, a rupture,
he opposed the scheme. Mounier then proposed to the deputies to
bind themselves by oath not to separate before the establishment
of a constitution. This proposal was received with transport ; the
form of the oath was soon agreed upon. Bailly claimed the honour of
being the first to take it, and read the form, which was as folio a
'^You take_a solemn oath never to separate, and to assemble where*
: rcumstances shall require, till the constitution of the kingdom
is established and founded on a solid basis." This form, pronounced
in a loud and intelligible voice, was heard outside the building. All
lips instantly repeated the oath ; all hands were outstretched towards
Bailly, who, standing and motionless, received this solemn engage-
ment to ensure by laws the exercise of the national rights. The
crowd instantly raised loud shouts of Vive VAssemblee ! vive It Roi !
as if to prove that, without any feeling of anger or animosity, but
from duty, it reclaimed what was its due. The deputies then pro-
ceeded to sign the declaration which they had just made. One only,
Martin d'Auch, added to his name the word opposer. A great tumult
took place around him. Bailly, in order to be heard, mounted upon
a table, addressed the deputy with moderation, and represented to
him that he had a right to refuse his signature, but not to form an op-
position. The deputy persisted ; and the assembly, out of respect
for its liberty, allowed the word to stand, and to be inserted in the
minutes.
This new act of energy excited the apprehensions of the nobility,
who went on the following day to lay their lamentations at the King'a
feet, to excuse themselves in some measure for the restrictions which
they had introduced into the plan of conciliation, and to solicit his
assistance. The noble minority protested against this step, maintain-
ing with reason that it was no longer time to solicit the royal interfer-
ence, after having so unseasonably refused it. This minority, Geo
little attended to, was composed of forty-seven members, among
whom were enlightened military officers and magistrates — the Duke
de Liancourt, a generous friend to his King and to liberty : the Duke
de la Rochefoucauld, distinguished for inflexible virtue and great abili-
ties ; Lally-Tollendal, already celebrated for his father's misfortunes
and his eloquent reclamations ; Clermont-Tonnerre, remarkable tot
his eloquence ; the brothers Lameth, young colonels, known for their
intelligence and their bravery ; Duport, already noticed for nil extra-
ordinary capacity and firmness of character ; and lastly, the Marquis
de La Fayette, the defender of American freedom, and combining
with French vivacity the perseverance and the simplicity of Wash-
ington.
Intrigues retarded all the operations of the court. The sitting, at
rir?t fixed for Monday the 22d, iraa poetpMptd till the 23d« A nota
written very late to Bailly, and at the termination of the great council
i
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 49
acquainted him with this postponement, and proved the agitation
which pervaded all minds. Necker hud resolved not to attend the
sitting, that In; might not sanction by his presence plans which he
disapprovo I.
Petty means, the ordinary resource of a feeble authority, were em-
ployed to prevent the meeting of Monday the 22d. The princes
hired the Tt-nuis-Court for the purpose of playing on that day. The
assembly repaired to the church of St. Louis, where it received the
majority of the clergy, with the Archbishop of Vienne at its head.
This junction, marked by the utmost dignity, excited the greatest joy.
The clergy came, it was said, to submit to the common verification.
The following day, the 23d, was that fixed for the royal sitting.
The deputies of the commons were to enter by a side door, a differ-
ent one from that reserved for the nobility and clergy. If violence
could not be employed, they were not spared humiliations. Thej
waited a long time exposed to the rain : the president was obliged tc
knock at the door; it was not opened. He knocked repeatedly,
and was told it was not yet time. The deputies were about to
retire, when Badly again knocked. The door was at length opened ;
the deputies entered, and found the two higher orders in possession of
their seats, which they had been desirous to secure by occupying them
beforehand. The sitting was not, like that of the 5th of May, at once
majestic and touching, from a certain effusion of sentiments and hopes.
A numerous soldiery, a sullen silence, distinguished it from the former
solemnity. The deputies of the commons had resolved to keep the
most profound silence. The King addressed the assembly, and be-
trayed his weakness by using expressions far too energetic for his cha-
racter. He was made to launch reproaches, and to issue commands.
He enjoined the separation into orders ; annulled the preceding reso-
lutions (arretts) of the tiers-Hat, promising to sanction the abdication
of the pecuniary privileges when they should be relinquished by the
holders. He maintained all the feudal rights, both useful and hono-
rary, as inviolable property. He did not order the meeting of the
three estates on matters of general interest, but held out hopes of it
from the moderation of the higher orders. Thus he enforced the
obedience of the commons, and contented himself with presuming
that of the aristocracy. He left the nobility and clergy judges of
what specially concerned them, and concluded with saying, that if he
met with fresh obstacles he would singly establish the welfare of his
people, and that he considered himself as its sole representative. This
tone, this language, deeply incensed the minds of the commons, not
against the King, who had feebly represented passions not his own,
but against the aristocracy, whose instrument he was.
As soon as he had finished this address, he ordered the assembly to
separate immediately. The nobility followed him, together with part
of the clergy. The majority of the ecclesiastical deputies remained ;
the deputies of the commons, without moving, preserved profound si-
lence. Mirabeau, who put himself forward on all occasions, then
rose. " Gentlemen," said he, li I admit that what you have just
heard might be the salvation of the country, if the gifts of despotism
vol. i. — 7 3
H
r
50 HISTORY OF THE
were not always dangerous The ostentatious display of arms
the violation of the national temple ... to command you to be ha;-
. . . Where are the enemies of the nation? Is Catiline at our d<>
I demand that, covering yourselves with your dignity, your legislative
power, you adhere religiously to your oath : it forbids you to separate
before you have framed the constitution."
-^^The Marquis de Brez6, grand-master of the ceremonies, then re-
turned. " You have heard the orders of the King," said he, add:
ing Bailly. Bailly replied, " I am going to take those of the assem-
bly." Mirabeau stepped forward. " Yes, sir," he exclaimed, " we
have heard the intentions that have been suggested to the King ; but
you have neither voice, nor place, nor right to speak, here. How-
ever, to avoid all delay, go and tell your master that we are here b]
the power of the people, and that nothing but the power of bayo
shall drive us away." M. de Br6z6 retired. Sieyes then said : " We
are to-day what we were yesterday ; let us deliberate." The assem-
bly collected itself te deliberate on the maintenance of .its preceding
resolutions (arrites). " The first of these resolutions," said Barn aye.
" has declared what you are ; the second relates to the taxes,~whicn
you alone have a right to grant ; the third is the oath to do your duty.
None of these measures needs the royal sanction. The King cannot
prevent that to which his assent is not required." At this moment
workmen arrived to take away the benches ; armed soldiers crossed
the hall ; others surrounded the outside ; the life-guard advanced to
the very door. The assembly continued its proceedings without in-
terruption ; the members kept their seats, and the votes were collected.
They were unanimous for upholding the preceding resolutions. That
was not all : amidst the royal town, surrounded by the servants of the
court, without the aid of that populace since so formidable, the as-
sembly was liable to be threatened. >Mirabeau pepnired to the tribune.
and proposed to decree the inviolability of~every deputy. The assem-
bly, opposing to force but one majestic will, immediately declared
each of its members inviolable, and proclaimed every one who should
offer them violence a traitor, infamous, and guilty of a capital crime.
i ' JMean while, the nobility, who looked upon the state as saved by
this " bed of justice," presented its congratulations to the prince who
had furnished the idea of it, and carried them from the prince to the
Queen. The Queen, holding her son in her arms, and showing him
to these devoted servants, received their oaths, and unfortunately
abandoned herself to a blind confidence. At this very moment shouts
were heard : every one ran to inquire the meaning of them, and learned
that the people, assembling in crowds, were applauding Necker be-
cause he had not attended the royal sitting. Alarm instantly took the
place of joy ; the King and Queen sent for Necker, and those aujrusi
personages were obliged to entreat him to retain his portfolio. The
minister complied, and transferred to the court a part of that popu-
larity which he had acquired by absenting himself from that fatal
sitting.
Thus was effected the first Revolution. The tirrs-ifat had reco-
vered the legislative power, ami its advenarii I bad lost it by attempt
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 51
lug to keep it entirely to themselves. In :i few days, this legislative
revolution was completely consummated. VjELgcourse was still had to
petty annoyances, such as interrupting the internal communications
in the halls of the States; but they were unsuccessful. On the 24th,
the majority of the clergy proceeded to the assembly, and demanded
the verification in common, in order to deliberate afterwards on the
proposals made by the King in the sitting of the 23d of June. The
minority of the clergy continued to deliberate in its own chamber.
Juign6, Archbishop of Paris, a virtuous prelate and a benefactor of
the people, but a stickler for privileges, was pursued, and forced to
promise to join the assembly. He accordingly repaired to the Na-
tional Assembly, accompanied by the Archbishop of Bordeaux, a
popular prelate, who was afterwards minister.
The nobility was in a state of the greatest agitation. Its ordinary
instigators inflamed its passions : d'Espremenil proposed to prosecute
the tiers-itat, and to direct proceedings to be instituted against it by
the attorney-general : the minority proposed the reunion. This mo-
tion was rejected amidst tumult. HHje Duke of Orleans supported the
motion, after having, on the preceaTng^tfaypgfaeTTa promise to the
contrary to the Polignacs. Forty-seven members, having determined
to join the general assembly, in spite of tliQ decision of the majority,
repaired to it in a body, and were received with demonstrations of
public joy. But, notwithstanding the rejoicing caused by their pre-
sence, then* looks were sad. " We yield to our conscience," said
Clmnont-T )imerre< " but it is with pain that we separate our-
selves from our colleagues. We have come to concur in the public
regeneration ; each of us will let you know the degree of activity
which his mission allows him."
Every day brought fresh accessions, and the assembly saw the
number of its members increase. Addresses poured in from all parts,
expressing the good wishes and the approbation of the towns and
provinces. ^>ftJounierHrompted those of Dauphine ; Paris sent one,
and even the Palais Royal despatched a deputation, which the assem-
bly, as yet encompassed with dangers, received, that it might not
alienate the multitude. At that time it did not foresee the excesses of
the populace ; it had need, on the contrary, to presume its energy, and
to hope for its support : many, however, doubted the courage of the
people, which was as yet but a pleasing dream. Thus the plaudits of
the tribunes, frequently annoying to the assembly, had nevertheless
supported it, and the assembly durst not prevent them. \BailIy would
have complained, but his voice and his motion were drowTOST by
thundering applause.
J'hc majority of the nobility continued its sittings, amidst tumult
and tne" most violent animosities. Terror seized those who directed
it, and the signal for reunion was made by those very persons who
had previously preached resistance. But its passions, already too
much excited, were not easily guided. The King was obliged to
write a letter ; the court, the grandees, were humbled to entreaties.
" The junction will be transient,** it was said to the most obstinate ;
" troops are approaching ; give way to save the King." Consent was
52
HISTORY OF THE
extorted amidst uproar, and the majority of the nobility, accompanied
by the minority of the clergy, proceeded, on the 27th of June, to the
general assembly. '-The^Duke of Luxembourg, jspeaking in the name
of all, said that they were coine" to pay a mark of respect to the King,
and to give a proof of patriotism to the nation. " The family is
complete," replied Bailly. Supposing that the assemblage was entire,
and that the question was not to verify but to deliberate in common,
he added : " We can now attend without intermission and without
distraction to the regeneration of the kingdom and of the public
weal."
Many petty artifices were still employed to avoid the appearance
of having done what necessity imperatively required. The new
comers always entered after the opening of the sittings, all in a body,
so as to give themselves the look of an order. They affected to stand
behind the president, or, at least, not to appear to sit. Bailly, with
great moderation and firmness, at length overcame all resistance, and
prevailed on them to be seated. Attempts were also made to displace
him from the presidency, not by main force, but sometimes by secret
negociation, at others by stratagem. Bailly retained it, not out of
ambition but out of duty ; and a plain citizen, known only by his
virtues and his talents, was seen presiding over all the grandees of
A the kingdom and the church.
- — It. was too evident that the legislative revolution was accomplished.
Though the subject "oT the first dispute was solely the mode of verifi-
cation, and not the manner of voting; though some had declared
that they joined merely for the common verification, and others in
obedience to the royal intentions as expressed on the 23d of June ;
it was certain that the voting by individuals had become inevitable :
all remonstrance therefore was useless and impolitic. The Cardinal
de Larochefoucauld, nevertheless, protested, in the name of the mi-
nority, and declared that he had joined solely to deliberate on general
subjects, still retaining the right to form an order. The Arcbbishop
of Vienne replied with warmth, that the minority had not had the
power to decide anything in the absence of the majority of the clergy,
and that it had no right to speak in the name of the order. Mirabeau
inveighed strongly against this pretension, observing, that it was strange
any one should protest in the assembly against the assembly. " You
must," said he, " either recognize its sovereignty or retire."
The question of imperative instructions was next brought forward.
Most of the instructions expressed the wishes of the electors respect-
ing the reforms to be effected, and rendered these wishes obligatory
on the deputies. Before they stirred, it was necessary to ascertain to
what point they could go : this question, therefore, could not but be
the first. It was taken up, and resumed several times. Some were
for returning to their constituents; others were of opinion that they
could not receive from the constituents any other mission than that
of voting for them after subjects should have been discussed by the
representatives of the whole nation, but they were not of opinion that
deputies could receive instructions ready made beforehand. If we
assume, in fact, that we have no power to make laws but in a genera1
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 53
council, either because we meet with more intelligence the higher we
rise, or because we cannot come to any decision but when all the part*
of the nation have reciprocally understood one another, then, indeed,
it is true that the deputies ought to be free and unshackled by obliga-
tory instructions. -AJirabeau, sharpening reasoning by irony, observed, 0 *7
that "those who considered the instructions as imperative, had done
wrong to come ; they had but to leave instructions on their benches,
and those papers would fill their seats as well as they." Sieyes, with
his usual sagacity, foreseeing that, notwithstanding the perfectly just
decision of the assembly, a great number of members would fall back
upon their oaths, and that by taking refuge in their consciences they
would render themselves unassailable, moved the order of the day,
upon the ground that each was the best judge of the validity of the
oath which he had taken. " Those," said he, " who deem them-
selves bound by their instructions, shall be considered as absent, just
the same as those who refused to verify their powers in general assem-
bly." This judicious opinion was adopted. The assembly, by having
recourse to constraint, would have furnished the opposers with pre-
texts ; whereas, by leaving them free, it was sure to bring them over
to its own way of thinking : for thenceforth its victory was certain.
v^hgjobject of the new convocation was the reform of the state, that Vi T ■
is, theestablish"m"ent of a constitution, which France as yet had not,
whatever may be said to the contrary. If any kind of relations
between the governed and the government are to be so called, then
indeed France possessed a constitution ; a king had commanded, and
subjects obeyed ; ministers had arbitrarily imprisoned ; contractors
had wrung the last denier from the people ; parliaments had sentenced
unfortunate wretches to the wheel. The most barbarous nations have
such kinds of constitutions. There had been States- General* in
France, but without precise powers, without fixed times for meeting
again, and always without results. There had been a royal autho-
rity, alternately null or absolute. There had been sovereign tribu-
nals or courts, which frequently combined the legislative with the
judicial power. But there was no law to ensure the responsibility of
the agents of power, the liberty of the press, individual liberty; in
short, all the guarantees which, in the social state, make amends for
the fiction of natural liberty.!
* Philippe le Bel was the first French monarch who convoked the States-General,
in 1303. Jean le Bon, in 1355, also called together the national assemblies, or " les
Champs de Mars;" and these assemblies have since that period always retained the
title of States-GeneraL The clergy had as their president the Archbishop of Rheims ;
Gauthier de Brienne was chosen by the nobles; and Marcel, the Mayor of Paris,
was at the head of the tiers-6tat.
1 1 support with notes and quotations only such passages asare susceptible of being
disputed. The question, whether we had a constitution, seems to me one of the
most important of the revolution; for it is the absence of a fundamental law that justi-
fies our baring determined to give ourselves one. On this point, 1 think it impossi-
ble to quote an authority more respectable and less suspicious than that of M. Lally-
Tollendal. On the 15m of July, 1789, that excellent citizen delivered a speech in the
chamber of the nobility, the greater part of which is subjoined.
" Long reproaches, tinctured moreover with considerable acrimony, have been
made, gentlemen, against members of this assembly, who, with equal pain and re-
•erve, have expressed doubts on what is called our constitution. This subject has
54 HISTORY OF THE
The want of a constitution was acknowledged and generally felt:
all the instructions had energetically expressed it, and entered into a
formal explanation of the fundamental principles of that constitution.
They had unanimously prescribed the monarchical government, here-
not perhaps a very direct connexion with that at present under discussion ; but since
it has afforded ground for accusation, let it also furnish one for defence ; and permit
me to address a few words to the authors of these reproaches.
" You have assuredly no law which enacts that the States-General are an integral
part of the sovereignty, for you are demanding one ; and, up to this day, sometimes
a decree of council forbade them to deliberate, at others a decree of parliament an-
nulled their deliberations.
" You have no law that fixes the periodical return of your States-General, for you
arc demanding one ; and it is one hundred and seventy-five years since they were
assembled.
" You have no law to protect yonr individual safety and liberty from arbitrary at-
tacks, for you are demanding One; and, during the reign of a King whose justice is
known and whose probity is respected by all Europe, ministers have caused your
magistrates to be torn from the sanctuary of the laws by armed satellites. In the
preceding reign, all the magistrates in the kingdom were dragged from their seats,
from their homes, and scattered by exile, some on the tops of mountains, others
in the slough of marshes, all in situations more obnoxious than the most horrible of
prisons. Go back still farther, and you will find a hundred thousand Uttrcs de cachet
issued on account of paltry theological squabbles ; and farther still, and you see M
many sanguinary commissions as arbitrary imprisonments ; nay, you will find no
spot on which you can repose till you come to the reign of your good Henry.
" You have no law which establishes the liberty of the press, for you are demand-
ing one ; and up to this time your thoughts have been enslaved, your wishes chained :
the cry of your hearts under oppression has been stifled, sometimes by the despotism
of individuals, at others by the still more terrible despotism of bodies.
" You have not, or at feast you no longer have, a law requiring your consent to
taxes, for you are demanding one ; and, for two centuries past, you have been bur-
dened with more than three or four hundred millions of taxes without having consent-
ed to a single one.
" You have no law which establishes the responsibility of all the ministers of the
executive power, for yon are demanding one ; and the creators of those sanguinary
commissions, the issuers of those arbitrary orders, thedilapidators of the public
quer, the violators of the sanctuary of public justice, those who have imposed upon
the virtues of one king, those who flattered the passions of another, most- who
brought disasters upon the nation, have been called to no account — have undergone
no punishment.
" Lasdy, you have no general, positive, written law, no diploma at once royal and
national, no great charter, upon which rests a fixed and invariable order, from which
each learns how much of his liberty and property he ought to sacrifice for the sake
of preserving the rest, which ensures all rights, which defines all powers. ( )n the
contrary, the system of your government has varied from rei^'ii to reign, frequently
from ministry to ministry ; it has depended on the age and the character of on
In minorities, under a weak prince, the royal authority, which is of importance to
the prosperity, and the dignity of the nation, has been indecently degraded, either by
the great, who with one hand shook the throne and with the other crushed t!
pie, or by bodies which at one time seized with temerity what at another t!
defended with courage. Under haughty princes who had flattered, under virtuous
princes who were deluded, this same authority has been carried beyond all bounds.
Your secondary powers, your intermediate powers, as you call them, have not been
either better defined or more fixed. Sometimes the parliaments have laid it down
as a principle that they could not interfere in affairs of state ; at others, they have
insisted that it was their prerogative to discuss them as representatives of the nation.
On the one hand were seen proclamations making known the will of the king, on
the other decrees, in which the king's officers forbade, in the king's name, the i
tion of the king's orders. Among the courts the like discord prevails ; they quarrel
about their origin, their functions ; they mutually launch anathemas at each other by
their decrees.
FRENCH INVOLUTION.
55
ditary succession from male to male, the exclusive attribution of the
executive power to the King, the responsibility of all agents, the con-
currence of the nation and the King in the making of laws, the voting
of the taxes, and individual liberty. >£ut they were divided on the
creation of one or two legislative chambers*7"tm~Tii<rpei inairence, the
periods for the meeting, and the dissolution of the legislative body ; on
the political existence of the clergy and the parliaments ; on the ex-
tent of the liberty of the press. All these questions, either solved or
proposed in the instructions, plainly show to what a degree the pub-
lic mind was at that time awakened in all parts of the kingdom, and
how generally and decisively the wish for liberty was expressed in
France.* But the founding of an entire constitution amid the rubbish
" I set limits to these details, which I could extend ad infinitum ; but if all these
are incontestable facts, if you have none of these laws which I have just enumerated
and which you demand, or if, having them — and pay particular attention to this
point — if, having them, you have not that which enforces their execution, that which
guarantees their accomplishment and maintains their stability, explain to us what you
understand by the word constitution, and admit at least that some indulgence is due to
those who cannot help entertaining some doubts of the existence of ours. You are told
continually to rally round thi9 constitution: let us rather lose sight of that phantom
to substitute a reality in its stead. And as for the term innovations, as for the appella-
tion of innovators, which is constandy levelled at as, let us admit that the first inno-
vators are in our hands, that the first innovators are our instructions ; let us respect,
let us bless this happy innovation, which must put every thing in its place, which must
render all rights inviolable, all the authorities beneficent, and all the subjects happy.
" It is this constitution, gentlemen, that I wish for; it is this constitution that is the
object for which we were sent hither, and which ought to be the aim of all our la-
bours ; it is this constitution which is shocked at the mere idea of the address that is
proposed to us — an address which would compromise the King as well as the na-
tion— an address, in short, which appears to me so dangerous that not only will I
oppose it to the utmost, but that, were it possible it could be adopted, I should feel
myself reduced to the painful necessity of protesting solemnly against it."
* It may not be amiss to introduce here the summary of the instructions submitted
to the National Assembly by M. de Clermont-Tonnerre. It is a good sketch of the
state of opinions at this period, throughout France. In this point of view the sum
mary is extremely important; and, though Paris exercised an influence upon the
drawing up of these instructions, it is not die less true diat the provinces had the
greatest share in them.
Report of the Committee of Constitution, containing a Summary of the Instructions rela-
tive to this subject, read to the National Assembly by M. the Count de Clermont- Tdnnerre,
in the sitting of Jtdy 27, 1789.
" Gendemen — You are called to regenerate the French empire : to this great
work you bring both your own wisdom and the wisdom of your constituents.
" We have thought it right first to collect and present to you the suggestions scat-
tered over the greater number of your instructions ; we shall then submit to you
the particular views of your committee, and those which it has been, or shall be, en-
abled to collect from the different plans, and the different observations, which have
been, or which shall be, communicated or transmitted to it by the members of this
august assembly.
" It is of the first part of this labour, gentlemen, that we are about to render you
an account.
" Our constituents, gendemen, are all agreed upon one point : they desire the re-
generation of the state ; but some have expected it from the mere reform of abu-
ses, and from the re-establishment of a constitution existing for fourteen centuries
past, and which appeared to them capable of being yet revived, if the injuries which
it has suffered from time, and the numerous insurrections of private interest against
the public interest, were to be repaired.
" Others have considered the existing social system as so faulty, that they have de-
56 HISTORY OF THE
of an ancient legislation, in spite of all opposition and the wild flights
of many minds, was a great and difficult work. Besides the disagree-
ments which diversity <>t' interests could not fail to produce, the natu-
ral divergence of opinions was also to be dreaded. An entire legisla-
inandeda new constitution, and that, with the exception of the monarchical govern-
ment and forms, which it is an innate feeling of every Frenchman to love and to
respect, and which they have ordered you to maintain, tlicy have given to you all
the powers necessary for creating a constitution, and for founding the prosperity of
the French empire on sure principles, and on the distinction and regular eonstita*
tion of all the powers. These latter, gentlemen, have thought that the first chapter
of the constitution ought to contain a declaration of the rights of man, of thOM im-
prescriptible rights for the maintenance of which society was established.
" The demand of this declaration of the rights of man, so constantly misconceived,
may be said to be the only difference that exists between the instructions which de-
sire a new constitution, and those which demand only the re-establishment of that
which they regard as the existing constitution.
" Both Die one and the other have alike fixed their ideas upon the principles of
monarchical government, upon the existence of the power and the organization of the
legislative body, upon the necessity of the national assent to taxes, upon the organi-
zation of the administrative bodies, and upon the rights of the citizens.
" We shall advert, gentlemen, to these different subjects, and submit to you on
each, as decision, the uniform results, and, as questions, the differing or contradictory
results, presented by such of your instructions as it has been in our power to analyze,
or to procure the substance of.
'•1. The monarchical government, the inviolability of the sacred person of the king,
and the hereditary descent of the crown from male to male, are alike acknowledged
and sanctioned by the great majority of the instructions, and are not called in ques-
tion by any.
•• 2. The king is, in like manner, acknowledged as the depositary of the executive
power in all its plenitude.
" 3. The responsibility of all the agents of authority is generally demanded'.
" 4. Some of the instructions assign to the king the legislative power, limited by
the constitutional and fundamental laws of the kingdom; others admit that the king,
in the interval between one session of the States-General and another, can, singly,
make laws of police and administration, which shall be but provisional, and for
which they require free registration in the sovereign courts; one baillagc has even
required that the registration shall not take place without the cousent of two thirds
of the intermediate commissions of the district assemblies. The greater number of
the instructions acknowledge the necessity of the royal sanction for the promulgation
of the laws.
" With respect to the legislative power, most of the instructions recognise it as
residing in the national representation, onconditiou of the royal sanction ; and it ap-
pears that thisnncient maxim of the capitularies, Lex Jit consensu pvpuli ct constilutione
regis, is almost generally adopted by your constituents.
" As to the organization of the national representation, the questions on which you
have to decide relate to the convocation, or to the duration, or to the composition, of
the national representation, or to the mode of deliberation proposed to it by your
constituents.
" As to the convocation, some have declared that the States-General cannot be
dissolved but by themselves; others, that the right of convoking, proroguing, and
dissolving, belongs to the king, on the sole condition, in case of dissolution, Uiat he
shall immediately issue a fresh convocation.
" As to the duration, some have required that the sessions of the states shall be pe-
riodical, and insisted that the periodical recurrence should notdepend either on the will
or the interest of the depositories of authority : others, but in smaller number, have
demanded tin- permanence of the States-General, so that the separation of the incm-
ben tfaordd not involve the dissolution of the states.
" The system of periodical sessions has given rise to a second question : Shall
there or shall there not be an intermediate commission in the intervals between the
sessions 1 The majority of vour constituents have considered the establishment of au
intermediate commission as a dangerous expedient
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 57
tion, to be given to a great people, excites their minds so powerfully,
inspires them with plans so vast and hopes so chimerical, that mea-
sures either vague or exaggerated, and frequently hostile, are natu-
rally to be expected from them. In-order to give regularity to the
" As to the composition, some have insisted on the separation of the three orders } \
hut, in regard to this point, the extension of the powers which several representa-
tions have already obtained, leaves, no doubt, a greater latitude for the solution of
this question.
" Some baillages have demanded the junction of the two higher orders in one and
the same chamber; others, the suppression of the clergy, and the division of its mem-
bers between the other two orders ; others, that the representation of the nobility should
be double that of the clergy, and that both together should be equal to that of the
commons.
" One baillage, in demanding the junction of the two higher orders, has demanded
the establishment of a third, to be entitled the order of the farmers (ordre des cam-
pagnes). It has likewise been proposed, that any person holding office, employ, or
place at court, shall be disqualified to be a deputy to the States-General. Lastly, the
inviolability of the persons of the deputies is recognised by the greater number of
the baillages, and not contested by any. As to the mode of deliberation, the question
of opinion by individuals, and of opinion by orders, is solved : some baillages require
two thirds of the opinions to form a resolution.
" The necessity of the national consent to taxes is generally admitted by your con-
stituents, and established by all your instructions : all limit the duration of a tax to
the period which you shall have fixed, a period which shall in no case extend further
than from one convocation to another ; and this imperative clause has appeared to
all your constituents the surest guarantee of the perpetuity of your national assem-
blies.
" Loans being but an indirect tax, they have deemed it right that they should be
subjected to the same principles.
" Some baillages have excepted from imposts for aterm such as should be destined
for the liquidation of the national debt, and have expressed their opinion that these
ought to be levied until its entire extinction.
" As to the administrative bodies, or provincial states, all the instructions demand
of you their establishment, and most of them leave their organization to your wis-
dom.
" Lastly, the rights of the citizens, liberty, property, are claimed witn energy by
the whole French nation. It claims for each of its members the inviolability of
private property, as it claims for itself the inviolability of <he public property ; it i
claims in all its extent individual liberty, as it has jnst established for ever the national
liberty ; it claims the liberty of the press, or the free communication of thought ;
it inveighs with indignation against lettres de cachet, which dispose in an arbitrary
maimer of persons, and against the violation of the secrecy of the post, one of the
most absurd and most infamous inventions of despotism.
"Amidst this concurrence of claims, we have remarked, gentlemen, some particu-
lar modifications relative to lettres de cachet and the liberty of the press. You will
weigh them in your wisdom ; you will no doubt cheer up that sentiment of French
honour, which in its horror of disgrace, has sometimes misconceived justice, and
which will no doubt be as eager to submit to the law when it shall command the
strong, as it was to withdraw itself from its control when it pressed only upon the
weak; you will calm the uneasiness of religion, so frequently assailed by libels in the
time of the prohibitory system ; and the clergy, recollecting that licentiousness was long
the companion of slavery, will itself acknowledge that the first and the natural effect
of liberty is the return of order, of decency, and of respect for the objects of the pub-
lic veneration.
■• Such, gentlemen, is the account which your committee has conceived itself
bound to render of that part of your instructions which treats of the constitution.
You will there find, no doubt, all the foundation-stones of the edifice which you are
charged to raise to its full height; but you will perhaps miss in them that order, that
unity of political combination, without which the social system will always exhibit
numerous defects: the powers are there indicated, but they are not yet distinguished
with the necessary precision ; the organization of the national representation is not
vol. i. — 8. 3
58 HISTORY OF THE
proceedings, a committee was appointed to measure their extent, and
to arrange their distribution. This committee was composed of the
most moderate members of the Assembly. Mounier, a cool-headed,
but obstinate man, was its mast laborious and influential member; it
was he who drew up the order of the proceedings.
This difficulty of giving a constitution was not the only one that
sufficiently established, the principles of eligibility are not laid in them : it is from
your labours that those results are to spring. The nation has insisted on being free,
and it is you whom it has charged with its enfranchisement: the genius of France
has hurried, as it were, die march of the public mind. It has accumulated for you in
a few hours the experience which could scarcely be expected from many centuries.
You have it in your power, gentlemen, to give a constitution to France: the King
and the people demand one ; both the one and the other have deserved it.
" Result of the Analysis of the Instructions.
"avowed principles.
" Art. 1. The French government is a monarchical government.
"2. The person of the King is inviolable and sacred.
" 3. His crown is hereditary from male to male.
" 4. The King is the depositary of the executive power.
" 5. The agents of authority are responsible.
" 6. The royal sanction is necessary for the promulgation of the laws.
" 7. The nation makes laws with the royal sanction.
"8. The national consent is necessary for loans and taxes.
" 9. Taxes can be granted only for the period from one convocation of the States-
General to another.
" 10. Property shall be sacred.
" 11. Individual liberty shall be sacred.
" Questions on which the whole of the Instructions have not explained themselves in a uni-
form manner.
" Art. 1. Does the King possess the legislative power, limited by the constitu
tionallaws of the kingdom ?
M 2. Can the King, singly, make provisional laws of police and administration in
the interval between the holding of the States-General ?
" 3. Shall these laws be subject to free registration in the sovereign courts ?
" 4. Can the States-General be dissolved only by themselves ?
" 5. Has the King alone the power to convoke, prorogue, and dissolve, the States-
General ?
" G. In case of dissolution, is not the King obliged immediately to issue anew con-
vocation?
" 7. Shall the States-General be permanent or periodical ?
" 8. If they are periodical, shall there or shall there not be an intermediate com
mission ?
"9. Shall the two first orders meet together in one and the same chamber ?
" 10. Shall the two chambers be formed without distinction of orders •
" 11. Shall the members of the order of the clergy be divided between the other
two orders?
" 12. Shall the representation of the clergy, nobility, and commons, be in the pro
portion of one, two, and three ?
" 13. Shall there be established a third order, with the title of order of the farmers ?
" 14. Can persons holding offices, employments, or places at court, be elected
deputies to the States-General ?
" 15. Shall two thirds of the votes be necessary in order to form a resolution?
" Hi. Shall taxes having for their object the liquidation of the national debt be levied
till its entire extinction?
" 17. Shall lettrcs dc cachet be abolished or modified ?
"18. Shall the liberty of the press be indefinite or modified?"
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 59
the Assembly had to surmount Between an ill-disposed government
and a starving populace, which required speedy relief, it was difficult
for it to avoid interfering in the. administration. Distrusting the
supreme authority, and urged to assist the ,# «'nle, it could not help,
even without amhition, encroaching by degree, on the executive
power. The clergy had already set it the example, by making to the
tiers-itat the insidious proposal to direct its immediate attention to the
subject of the public subsistence. The Assembly, as soon as it was
formed, nppointed a committee of subsistence, applied to the ministry
for information on the subject, proposed to favour the circulation of
provisions from province to province, to convey them officially to the
places where they were needed, and to defray the expense by loans
and charitable contributions. The ministry communicated the effica-
cious measures which it had taken, and which Louis XVI., a careful
administrator, had favoured to the utmost of his power. Lally-Tol-
lendal proposed to issue decrees relative to free circulation ; upon
which M ounier objected that such decrees would require the royal
sanction, and this sanction, being not yet regulated, would be attended
with serious difficulties. Thus all sorts of obstacles combined toge-
ther. It was requisite to make laws, though the legislative forms were
not fixed ; to superintend the administration without encroaching on
the executive authority ; and to provide against so many difficulties, in
spite of the ill-will of power, the opposition of interests, the jarring
of opinions, and the urgency of a populace recently awakened and
rousing itself, a few leagues from the Assembly, in the bosom of an
immense capital.
A very small distance separates Paris from Versailles, and a person
may traverse it several times in one day. All the disturbances in \
Paris were, therefore, immediately known at Versailles, both to the
court and to the Assembly. Paris then exhibited a new and extraor-
dinary spectacle. The electors, assembled in sixty districts, refused
to separate after the elections, and they remained assembled either to
give instructions to their deputies, or from that fondness for agitation
which is always to be found in the human heart, and which bursts
forth with the greater violence the longer it has been repressed. They
had fared just the same as the National Assembly : being shut out of
their place of meeting, they had repaired to another ; they had finally
obtained admittance into the H6tel de Ville, and there they continued
-to assemble and to correspond with their deputies. There were yet
no public prints that gave an account of the sittings of the National
Assembly ; people therefore felt it necessary to meet for the purpose
of learning and conversing upon events. The garden of the Palais
Royal was the theatre of the most numerous assemblages. This
magnificent garden, surrounded by the richest shops in Europe, and
forming an appurtenance to the palace of the Duke of Orleans, was
the rendezvous of foreigners, of debauchees, of loungers, and, above *
all, of the most vehement agitators, ^he^oldest harangues were K ^ 1^
delivered in the coffee-houses, or in the garden IfseTT "There might
be seen an orator mounted upon a table, collecting a crowd around
him, and exciting them by the most furious language — language al-
G>
60 HISTORY OF THE
ways unpunished — for there the mob reigned as sovereign. Here
men, supposed to be the tools of the Duke of Orleans, displayed ttm
greatest violence. The wealth of that prince, his well-known prodi-
gality, the enormous sums which he borrowed, his residence on the
spot, his ambition, though vague, all served to point accusation again.-t
fy^*)/^^ him.* ^History, without mentioning any name, is authorized, at least,
to declare that motaey was profusely distributed. If the sound part
of the nation was ardently desirous of liberty, if the restless anil Pil-
fering multitude resorted to agitation for the purpose of bettering its
condition, there were instigators who sometimes excited that multi-
tude, and perhaps directed some of its blows. In other respects, this
influence is not to be reckoned among the causes of the revolution, for
it is not with a little money and with secret manoeuvres that you can
convulse a nation of twenty-five millions of souls.
An occasion for disturbance soon occurred. The French guards,
picked men, destined to compose the King's guard, were at Paris ;
four companies were detached by turns to do duty at Versailles. Be-
sides the barbarity of the new discipline, these troops had reason to
complain also of that of their new colonel. At the pillage of Reveil-
lon's house they had certainly shown some animosity against the
populace ; but they had subsequently been sorry for it, and, mingling
daily with tho mob, they had yielded to its seductions. Moreover,
both privates and subalterns were aware that the door to promotion
was closed against them : they were mortified to see their young offi-
cers do scarcely any duty, showing themselves only on parade-days,
and after reviews not even accompanying the regiment to the barracks.
Here, as elsewhere, there had been a tiers-itat, which had to do all
the work without receiving any share of the profit. Symptoms of
insubordination manifested themselves, and some of the privates were
confined in the Abbaye.f
■ " At this period, a report, which had long been circulated, assumed a semblance
of truth. The Duke of Orleans had been accused of being at the head of a party,
and the newspapers of the day employed his name in the hints which they daily set
forth, that France should follow the example of England. The Duke of Orleans
was fixed upon, because, in the English revolution, the direct line of the royal family
had been expelled in favour of the Prince of Orange. The thing was so often re-
peated, that the Duke of Orleans began at last to believe that ho micht place himself
at the head of a party, and become the leader of a faction, without the qualification
for such an office." — Memoirs of the Duchess d'Abrantes. E.
t " The regiment of the French guards, consisting of 3600 men, in the highest
state of discipline and equipment, had for some time given alarming symptoms of
disaffection. Their colonel had ordered them, in consequence, to oe confined to
their barracks, when three hundred of them broke out of their bounds, and repaired
instantly to the Palais Royal. They were received with enthusiasm, and liberally
plied with money, by the Orleans party; and to such a height did tin- transport rise,
that, how incredible soever it may appear, it is proved by the testimony of numerous
witnesses above all suspicion, that women of family and distinction openly embraced
the soldiers as they walked in the gardens with their mistresses. After these disor-
ders had continued for some time*, eleven of the ringleaders in the mutiny were
and thrown in the prison of the Abbey; a mob of riOOO men immediately assembled,
forced the gates of the prison, and brought them back in triumph to the Palais Royal.
The King, upon the petition of the Assembly, pardoned the prisoners, and on the
following day they were walking in triumph through the streets of Paris." — Alison't
French Reeotution. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
»Tlic men assembled at the Palais Royal, shouting " To the Ab-
baye !" the mob instantly ran thither. The doors were broken open,
and the soldiers brought out, aud carried away in triumph. Whilst
the populace guarded them at the Palais Royal, a letter was written
to the Assembly, demanding their liberation. Placed between the
people on tin' one hand and the government on the other, which was
suspected, since it was about to act in its own behalf, the Assembly
could not help interfering and committing an aQeroachnicnxijy med-
dling with the public police. Taking a resolution, at once prudent
and adroit, it assured the Parisians of its desire for the maintenance
of good order, exhorted them not to disturb it, and at the same time
sent a deputation to the King to implore his clemency, as an infallible
mode of restoring peace and concord. The King, touched by its
in deration, promised his clemency when order should be re-esta-
blished. The French guards were immediately sent back to prison,
from which they were as immediately released by a pardon from the
King.
So far all was well ; but the nobility, in joining the other two
orders, had yielded with regret, and only upon a promise that its
union with them should be of short duration. It still continued to
assemble every day, and protested against the proceedings of the
National Assembly ; its meetings gradually became less numerous :
on the 3d of July, 138 members attended ; on the 10th 93, and on the
11th but 80. The most obstinate, however, had persisted, and on the
11th they determined upon a protest, which succeeding events pre-
vented them from drawing up. The court, on its part, had not yielded
without regret and without plan. On recovering from its alarm, after
the sitting of the 23d, it had approved the general union of the three
estates, in order to impede the march of the Assembly by means of
the nobles, and in the hope of soon dissolving it by main force i^-^
-Wecker had been retained merely to mask, by his presence, the secret Jpk P ^
plots thai wereliatching. Excepting a certain agitation, and a degree \
of reserve that was employed towards him, he had no reason to sus-
pect any grand machination. The King himself was not apprized
of all, and there were persons who proposed, no doubt, to go further
than he wished. Necker, who conceived that the whole activity of a
statesman ought to confine itself to reasoning, and who possessed just
so much energy as was necessary to remonstrate, did so without effect. \ X '
Conjointly with ^""ni'",l M^lly-T"llo"fHL^and CJprmnHt.TrmiiPirrp, jL *5 U- V-/
he meditated the establishment of the English constitution. The \
court was meanwhile carrying on its secret preparations. The noble
deputies having manifested an intention to withdraw, they were de-
tained by hints thrown out to them of an event that would speedily
happen.
Troops were approaching ; old Marshal de Broglie had been ap-
pointed to the chief command of them, and the Baron de Besenval
to the particular command of those which were around Paris. Fif-
teen regiments, mostly foreign, were in the environs of the capital.
The exultation of the courtiers revealed the danger ; and these con-
spirators, too prompt to threaten, thus compromised their projects.
V
62 HISTORY OF THE
The popular deputies apprized, not of all the particulars of a plan
which is not yet entirely known, with which the King himself was
but partially acquainted, but which certainly tended to employ vio-
lence, were irritated, and turned their attention to the means of
vi resistance. "AJ^eare ignorant, and shall probably ever remain so, of
the share whicnSBCTeT Tneans had in the insurrection of the 14th of
July, but this is of no consequence. The aristocracy was conspiring —
the popular party could conspire too. The means employed were
equal, setting aside the justice of the cause, and justice was not
An their side who would fain have broken up the union of the three
orders, dissolved the national representation, and wreaked their ven-
geance upon its most courageous deputies.
Mirabeau was of opinion that the surest way of intimidating power
was to force it to discuss, publicly, the measures which it was seen to
take. To this end it was necessary to denounce it openly. If it hesi-
tated to reply, if it had recourse to evasion, it would be condemned ;
the nation would be warned and roused.
On the motion of Mirabeau, the discussion of the constitution was
suspended, and he proposed to solicit the King to remove the troops.
In his language, he combined respect for the monarch with the seve-
rest reproaches of the government. He stated that fresh troops were
daily advancing ; that all the communications were intercepted ; that
the bridges, the promenades, were converted into military posts ; that
nr\ circumstances, public and secret, hasty orders and counter-orders,
met all eyes, and were the heralds of war : to these facts he added
bitter reproaches. ^^MjDrejthjvealejung^sjddiersV' said he, " are shown
to the nation, than hostile invaders wouloT~perhaps find to encounter,
and a thousand times more, at least, than could be brought together to
succour friends, the martyrs of their fidelity, and above all, to preserve
that alliance of the Dutch, so valuable, so dearly bought, and so dis-
gracefully lost."
His speech was received with applause ; and the address which he
proposed was adopted, with the exception of one article, in which,
while invoking the removal of the troops, he demanded that they
should be replaced by the civic guard : this article was suppressed.
The address was voted, with only four dissentient voices. In this
celebrated address, which, as it is said, was not written by Mirabeau,
but all the ideas of which he had communicated to one of his friends,
he foreboded almost every thing thai was about to happen : tin
plosion of the multitude, and the defection of the troops from their
intermingling with the citizens. Not less acute than bold, he ventured
to assure the King that his promises should not be vain. " You have
summoned us," said he, " to regenerate the kingdom ; your u
shall be accomplished, in spite of snares, difficulties, dangers," &c.
The address was presented by a deputation of twenty-lour mem-
bers. The King, having resolved not to enter into explanation*,
replied that the assemblage of troops was for no other purpose than
the maintenance of the public tranquillity, and the protection due to
the Assembly; that, moreover, if the latter still felt any apprehen-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 63
sions, he would remove it to Soissons or Noyon, and that he would
himself repair to Compiegne. . •
The Assembly could not be satisfied with such an answer, and
especially with the proposal to withdraw from the capital, and to place
itself between two camps. The Count de Crillon proposed that they
should trust to the word of a King, who was an honest man. "The VS j
vWord of a King, who is an honest man," replied Mirabeau, " is a
l5?nH>ecttrity"~fi5r the conduct of his ministers ; our blind confidence in
our kings has undone us : we demanded the withdrawal of the troops,
and not permission to flee before them. We must insist again and
again."
This opinion was not supported. Mirabeau insisted so strongly
upon open means, that he may be forgiven any secret machinations,
if it be true that he actually resorted to them.
The 11th of July had now arrived. Necker had several times told
the King that, if his services were not acceptable, he would retire
with submission. " I take you at your word," replied the King. On
the 11th, in the evening, Necker received a note in which Louis XVI.
required him to keep his word, and urged him to set out, adding that
he had sufficient confidence in him to hope that he would keep his de-
parture a profound secret. Necker, justifying the honourable confidence
of the monarch, set out without apprizing his friends or even his
daughter, and in a few hours was at a considerable distance from Ver-
sailles. The following day, July 12th, was Sunday. A report was
now circulated at Paris that Necker had been dismissed, as well as
Messrs. de Montmorin, de la Luzerne, de Puisegur, and de St. Priest.
As their successors, Messrs, de Breteuil, de la Vauguyon, de Broglie,
Foulon, and Dam6court, were mentioned, almost all known for their
opposition to the popular cause. The alarm spread throughout Paris.
The people hurried to the Palais Royal. A young man, since cele-
brated for his republican enthusiasm, endowed with a tender heart but
an impetuous spirit, mounted a table, held up a pair of pistols, and
shouting " To arms!" plucked a. leaf from a tree, of which he made
a cockade, and exhorted the crowds to follow his example. The trees
were instantly stripped. The people then repaired to a museum con-
taining busts in wax. They seized those of Necker and the Duke of
Orleans, who was threatened, it was said, with exile, and then spread
themselves in the various quarters of Paris. This mob was passing
through the Rue St. Honor6, when it was met, near the Place VendGme,
by a detachment of the Royal German regiment, which rushed upon
it and wounded several persons, among whom was a soldier of the
French guards. The latter, predisposed in favour of the people and
against the Royal Germans, with whom they had a few days before s-*&&
had a quarrel, were in barracks near the Place Louis XV. yThey fired P i>
Jipmi the Royal Germans. The Prince de Lambesc, who command- \
ed this regimeTuVtrretrrrrfly fell back upon the garden of the Tuilleries,
charged the people who were quietly walking there, killed an old man
amidst the confusion, and cleared the garden. Meanwhile, the troops
surrounding Paris formed in the Champ de Mars and the Place Louis
XV. Terror, before unbounded, was now changed into fury. People
64 . HISTORY OF THE
ran into the city, shouting " To arms !" The mob hurried to the
H5tel de Ville to demand weapons. The electors composing the ge-
neral assembly were there met. They delivered out the arms, which
they could no longer refuse, and which, at tbe instant when they de-
termined to grant them, the people had already begun to seize. These
k electors composed at the moment the only established authority. De-
prived of all active powers, they assumed such as the occasion requi-
red, and ordered the districts to be convoked. All the citizens instantly
assembled, to consult upon the means of protecting themselves at one
and the same time against the rabble and the attack of the royal
troops. During the night, the populace, always ready for excitement,
forced and burned the barriers, dispersed the gate-keepers, and afford-
ed free access by all the avenues to the city. The gunsmiths' shops
were plundered. Those brigands who had already signalized them-
selves at Reveillon's, and who on all occasions are seen springing up,
as it were, out of the ground, again appeared, armed with pikes and
bludgeons, spreading consternation. These events took place on
Sunday, the 12th of July, and in the night between Sunday and Mon-
day, the 13th. On Monday morning, the electors, still assembled at
the H6tel de Ville, thought it incumbent on them to give a more legal
form to their authority : they accordingly summoned the attendance
ta ^1 \~/ °f tne provost of the trade^^rivStdes marchands)} the ordinary ad-
ministrator of the city. The latter refused lu cuihply unless upon a
formal requisition. A requisition was in consequence issued ; a cer-
tain number of electors were appointed as his assistants, and thus was
composed a municipality invested with all necessary powers. This
municipality sent for the lieutenant of police, and drew up in a few
hours a plan for arming the civic militia.
This militia was to consist of forty -eight thousand men, furnished
by the districts. The distinctive sign was to be the Parisian cockade,
red and blue, instead of the green cockade. Every man found in
arms and wearing this cockade, without having been enrolled by his
district in the civic guard, was to be apprehended, disarmed, and pun-
ished. Such was the primary origin of the national guards. This
plan was adopted by all the districts, which hastened to carry it into
o~\ execution. In the course of the same morning, the people had plun-
dered thejiouse of St. Xtazare in search of grain ; they had forced the
armoury totjbTaTnarms, a ncThad rummaged out the ancient armour and
put it on. The rabble, wearing helmets and carrying pikes, were Been
inundating the city. The populace now showed itself hostile to pil
lage ; with its usual fickleness, it affected to be disinterested ; it spared
money, took nothing but arms, and itself apprehended the brigand*
The French guards and the night-watch had offered their services,
and they had been enrolled in the civic guard.
Arms were still demanded with loud shouts. Flesselles, the provost,
who had at first resisted his fellow-citizens, now manifested great seal,
and promised twelve thousand muskets on that very day, and more
on the following days. He pretended that he had made a contract
with an unknown gunsmith. The thing appeared difficult, consider-
ing the short time that had elapsed. Meanwhile, evening drew on ;
FRENCH REVOLUTION'. Go
the chests of arms announced by Flesselles were carried to the H6tel
de Ville ; they were opened, and found to be full of old linen. At
this si^lit the multitude was fired with indignation against the provost,
who declared that he had been deceived. To appease them, he di-
rected them to go to the Carthusians, with the assurance that arms
would there be found. The astonished Carthusians admitted the
furious mob, conducted them into their retreat, and finally convinced
them that they possessed nothing of the sort mentioned by the pro-
vost.
The rabble, more exasperated than ever, returned with shouts of
" Treachery !" To satisfy them, orders were issued for the manufac-
ture of fifty thousand pikes. Vessels with gunpowder were descend-
ing the Seine, on their way to Versailles ; these were stopped, and an
elector distributed the powder amidst the most imminent danger.
A tremendous confusion now prevailed at the H8tel de Ville, the
seat of the authorities, the head-quarters of the militia, and the
centre of all operations. It was necessary to provide at once for the
safety of the town, which was threatened by the court, and jts internal
safety endangered by the brigands ; it was requisite every moment to
allay the suspicions of the people, who believed that they were be-
trayed, and to save from their fury those who excited their distrust.
About this place were to be seen carriages stopped, wagons inter-
cepted, travellers awaiting permission to proceed on their journey.
During the night, the H6tel de Ville was once more menaced by the
brigands. An elector, the courageous Moreau de St. Mery, to whose
care it had been committed, caused barrels of powder to be brought,
and threatened to blow it up. At this sight the brigands retired.
Meanwhile the citizens, who had gone to their homes, held themselves
in readiness for every kind of attack : they had unpaved the streets,
opened the trenches, and taken all possible'measures for resisting a
siege.
During these disturbances in the capital, consternation pervaded
the Assembly. It had met on the morning of the 13th, alarmed by
the events that were in preparation, and still ignorant of what was
passing in Paris. Mounier, the deputy, first rose and censured
the dismissal of the ministers. Lally-Tollendal, who took his place
in the tribune., pronounced a splendid panegyric on Necker, and both
joined in proposing an address, for the purpose of soliciting the King
to recal his disgraced ministers. M. de Virieu, a deputy of the nobi-
lity, even proposed to confirm the resolutions of the 17th of June by
a new oath. M. de Clermont-Tonnerre opposed this motion as useless ;
and, referring to the engagements by which the Assembly had already
bound itself, he exclaimed, " The constitution shall be, or we will
perish !" The discussion had lasted some time, when news arrived
of the disturbances in Paris during the morning of the 13th, and the
calamities with which the capital was threatened between undisci-
plined Frenchmen, who, according to the expression of the Duke de
La Rochefoucault, were not in any one's hand, and disciplined
foreigners, who were in the hand of despotism. It was instantly re-
solved to send a deputation to the King, for the purpose of submitting
vol. i.— 9 3
06 HISTORY OF THE
to him a picture of the desolation of the capital, and beseeching him to
order the removal of the troops, and the establishment of the civic
guards. The King returned a cold, dry answer, which was far from
according with his disposition, and alleged that Paris was not capable
of guarding itself. The Assembly then, exalting itself to the noblest
courage, passed a memorable resolution, in which it insisted on the
removal of the troops and the establishment of the civic guards; de-
clared the ministers and all the agents of power responsible ; threw
upon the counsellors of the King, of whatever rank they might be, the
responsibility of the calamities that were impending, consolidated the
public debt, forbade the mention of the infamous term bankruptcy,
persisted in its preceding resolutions, and directed the president to ex-
press its regret to M . Necker and to the other ministers. After these
measures, fraught alike with energy and prudence, the Assembly, in
order to preserve its members from all personal violence, declared it-
self permanent, and appointed M. de Lafayette vice-president, to
relieve the worthy Archbishop of Vienne, whose age did not permit
him to sit day and night.
Thus passed the night between the 13th and 14th in agitation and
alarm. Fearful tidings were every moment brought and contradict-
ed. All the plans of the court were not known ; but it was ascertained
that several deputies were threatened, and that violence was to be em-
ployed against Paris and the most distinguished members of the
Assembly. Having adjourned for a short time, the Assembly again
met, at five in the morning of the 14th of July : with imposing calm-
ness, it resumed the consideration of the constitution, and discussed
with great propriety the means of accelerating its execution, and of
conducting it with prudence. A committee was appointed to prepare
the questions ; it was composed of the Bishop of Autun, the Arch-
bishop of Bordeaux, Messrs. Lally, Clermont-Tonnerre, Mounier,
Sieves, Chapelier, and Bergasse. The morning passed away. Intelli-
gence more and more alarming continued to arrive. The King, it was
said, was to set off in the night, and the Assembly would be left exposed
to several foreign regiments. At this moment the princes, the Duchess
de Polignac, and the Queen, were seen walking in the orangery, flatter-
iii or the officers and the soldiers, and causing refreshments to be
distributed among them. It appears that a grand plan had been devis-
ed for the night between the 14th and 15th ; that Paris was to be
attacked on seven points, the Palais Royal surrounded, the Assembly
dissolved, the declaration of the 23d of June submitted to the parlia-
ment, and finally, thatthe wants of the exchequer were to be supplied by-
bankruptcy and paper money. So much is certain, that the commas
dants of the troops had received orders to advance in the night between
the 14th and 15th, that the paper money had been prepared, that the
barracks of the Swiss were full of ammunition, and that the governor
of the Bastille had disfumished the fortress, with the exception of some
indispensable articles. In the afternoon, the terrors of the Assembly
redoubled. The Prince de Lambesc was seen passing at full gallop.
The report of cannon was heard, and people clapped their ears to the
ground to catch the slightest sounds. Mirabeatl then proposed to sus-
FREiNCH REVOLUTION. 67
pend the discussions, and to send another deputation to the King
The deputation set out immediately, to make fresh remonstrances.
At this moment, two members of the Assembly, who had come from
Paris in- the utmost haste, declared that the people there were
slaughtering one another ; one of them affirmed that he had seen the
headless body of a man dressed in black. It began to grow dark.
The arrival of two electors was announced. The most profound si-
lence pervaded the hall ; the sound of their footfalls was heard amid
the darkness ; and the Assembly learned from their lips that the Bas-
tille was attacked, that cannon had been fired, that blood had been
spilt, and that the city was threatened with the direst calamities. A
fresh deputation was instantly despatched before the return of the pre-
ceding one. Just as it was about to depart, the first arrived, and
brought the answer of the King. It reported that the King had ordered
the troops encamped in the Champs de Mars to be withdrawn, and,
having been apprized of the formation of the civic guard, had appoint-
ed officers to command it.
On the arrival of the second deputation, the King, more agitated
than ever, said, " Gentlemen, you rend my heart more and more by
the account you give of the calamities of Paris. It is not possible
that the orders given to the troops can be the cause of them." Nothing
had yet been obtained but the removal of the army. It was now two
in the morning. The answer returned to the city of Paris was, " that
two deputations had been sent, and that the applications should be re-
newed that day, until they had obtained the success which might justly
be expected from the heart of the King, when extraneous impressions
did not counteract its impulses." The sitting was suspended for a
short time, and in the evening intelligence of the events of the 14th
arrived.
The populace, ever since the night of the 13th, had thronged about
the Bastille. Some musket-shots had been fired, and it appears that
ringleaders had repeatedly shouted " To the Bastille !" The wish
for its destruction had been expressed in the instructions given to some
of the deputies ; thus the ideas of the public had beforehand taken
that direction. A cry for arms was still kept up. A report was spread
that the H6tel des Invalides contained a considerable quantity. The
mob instantly repaired thither. M. de Sombreuil, the governor, or-
dered admittance to be denied, saying, that he must send for orders to
Versailles. The populace, turning a deaf ear to all expostulation,
rushed into the hotel, and carried off the cannon and a great quantity
of muskets. A large concourse of people were already besieging tin-
Bastille. They declared that the guns of the fortress were pointed
at the city, and that they must take care to prevent their firing upon
them. The deputy of a district solicited admission into the place, and
obtained it of the commandant. In going over it, he found thirty-two
Swiss and eighty-two invalids, and received a promise from the gar-
rison not to fire unless it should be attacked. During this parley, the
people, not seeing the deputy return, began to be exasperated, and the
latter was obliged to show himself in order to appease the multitude.
At length ha retired, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon. Half an
68 HISTORY OF THE
hour had scarcely elapsed, before a fresh mob arrived with arms, shout'
ing, " Let us storm the Bastille !" The garrison summoned the as-
sailants to retire, but they persisted. Two men, with great intrepidity
mounted the roof of the guard-house, and broke with axes the chains
of the bridge, which fell down. The rabble rushed upon it, and ran
to a second bridge, purposing to pass it in like manner. At this mo-
ment a discharge of musketry brought it to a stand ; it fell back, but
tiring at the same time. The conflict lasted for a few moments. The
electors, assembled at the H6tel de Ville, hearing the report of mus-
ketry, became more and more alarmed, and sent two deputations, one
on the heels of the other, to require the commandant to admit into the
fortress a detachment of the Paris militia, on the ground that all the
military force in the capital ought to be at the disposal of the city au-
thorities. These two deputations arrived in succession. Amidst this
siege by the populace, it was with great difficulty that they could make
themselves heard. The sound of the drum, the sight of a flag, for a
time suspended the firing. The deputies advanced ; the garrison
awaited them, but it was difficult to understand each other. Musket-
shots were fired, from some unknown quarter. The mob, persuaded
that it was betrayed, then rushed forward to set fire to the building ;
on this the garrison fired with grape. The French guards thereupon
came up with cannon, and commenced an attack in form.*
* " All morning, since nine, there hag been a cry every where : ' To the Bastille !'
Repeated ' deputations of citizens' have been here, passionate for arms ; whom de
Lannay has got dismissed by soft speeches through port-holes. Towards noon.
I'.lector Thuriot de la Rosiere gains admittance : finds Delaunay indisposed for sur-
render; nay, disposed for blowing up the place rather. Thuriot mounts with him to
the battlements : heaps of paving-stones, old iron, and missiles, lie piled: cannon all
duly levelled ! in every embrasure a cannon, — only drawn back a little * But out-
wards, behold, O Thuriot, how the multitude flows on, welling through every street;
tocsin furiously pealing, all drums beating the g6niraU : the suburb Sainte-Antoine
rolling hitherward wholly, as one man ! Such vision (spectral yet real) thou, O
Thuriot, as from thy Mount of Vision, beholdestin this moment: prophetic of other
phantasmagories, and loud-gibbering spectral realities which thou yet beholdot not,
hut shalt! " Q,ue voulez-vous ?" said Delaunay turning pale at the sight, with an
air of reproach, almost of menace. ' Monsieur,' said Thuriot, rising into the moral-
sublime, 'what mean you? Consider if I could not precipitate both of us from this
height,' — say only a hundred feet, exclusive of the walled ditch! Whereupon
Delaunay fell silent
" Wo to thee, Delaunay, in such an hour, if thou canst not, taking some one firm
decision, rule circumstances ! Soft speeches will not serve ; hard grape-shot is ques-
tionable; but hoveriug between the two is im-questionable. Ever wilder swells the
tide of men; their infinite hum waxing ever louder, into imprecations, perhaps into
crackle of stray musketry — which litter, on walls nine feet thick, cannot do execu-
tion. The outer drawbridge has been lowered for Thuriot; new deputation of citi-
zens (it is the third, and noisiest of all) penetrates that way into the outer court:
soft speeches producing no clearance of these, Delaunay gives fire: pulls up his
drawbridge. A slight sputter; — which has kindled the too combustible chaos; loaOQ
it a roaring fire-chaos! Bursts forth insurrection, at sight of its own blood, (for there
were deaths by that sputter of fire,) into endless rolling explosion of musketry, dis-
traction, execration; — and over head, from the fortress, let one great gun, with in
grape-shot, go booming, to show what wc could do. The Bastille is besieged '
" On, then, all Frenchmen that have hearts in their bodies! Roar with all your
throats of cartilage and metal, yc sons of liberty; stir spasmodically whatsoever of
utmost faculty is in you, soul, body, or spirit; for it is the hour! Smite, thou Louis
Tournay, cartwright of the Mara is. old-soldier of the regiment Dauphinfe; smite at
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 69
During these proceedings, a note addressed bytne Baron de Besen-
val to Delaunay, governor of the Bastille, was intercepted and read at
the H6tel de Ville. Besenval exhorted Delaunay to resist, assuring
him that he should soon receive succour. It was in fact in the even-
ing of that day that the plans of the court were to be carried into ex-
ecution. Meanwhile, Delaunay seeing the desperation of the mob,
and no succours having arrived, seized alighted match with the inten-
tion of blowing up the fortress. The garrison opposed it, and obliged
him to surrender : the signals were made, and a bridge lowered. The
besiegers approached, promising not to do any mischief. The crowd,
however, rushed in, and took possession of all the courts. The Swiss
found means to escape. The invalids, attacked by the populace, were
saved from their fury solely by the zealous interference of the French
guards. At this moment, a female, beautiful, young, and trembling,
came forward ; she was supposed to be the daughter of Delaunay ;
she was seized and about to be burned, when a brave soldier rushed
to the spot, wrested her from the hands of the enraged rabble, con-
ducted her to a place of safety, and hurried back to the affray.
It was now half past five o'clock. The electors were in the most
painful anxiety, when they heard a dull and continuous murmur. A
crowd approached, shouting " Victory !" They poured into the hall:
a French guardsman, covered with wounds and crowned with laurels,
was borne in triumph by the mob. The regulations and the keys of the
Bastille were carried on the point of a bayonet : a bloody hand raised
above the mob exhibited a bunch of hair ; it was the queue of Delaunay,
the governor, whose head had just been stricken off. Two French
guards, Elie and Hullin, had defended him to the last extremity.
Other victims had fallen, though heroically defended against the fero-
city of the mob. A strong animosity began to be expressed against
Flesselles, the provost of the trades ; he was accused of treason. It
was alleged that he had deceived the people by repeatedly promising
them arms which he never meant to give them. The hall was soon
full of men heated with a long combat, and backed by a hundred
thousand more outside the hotel, all eager to enter in their turn. The
electors strove to justify Flesselles to the mob. His assurance began
to forsake him, and, already quite pale, he exclaimed, " Since I am
suspected, I will retire." — " No," was the reply made to him, " come
to the Palais Royal to be tried." Accordingly, he descended to repair
thither. The agitated multitude surrounded and pressed upon him.
On reaching the Quai Pelletier, he was struck to the ground by a
that outer drawbridge chain, though the fiery hail whittles round thee ! Never, over
nave or felloe, did thy axe strike such a stroke. Down with it, man ; down with it
to Orcus: let the whole accursed edifice sink thither, and tyranny be swallowed up
forever! Mounted some say on the roof of the guard room, some 'on bayonets
Htuck into joints of the wall,' Louis Tournay smites, brave Aubin Bonnemere (also
an old soldier) seconding him: the chain yields, breaks; the huge drawbridge slams
down, thundering (ante fracas.) Glorious: and, yet, alas, it is still but the outworks.
The eight grim towers with their Invalides' musketry, their paving stones and can-
non-mouths still soar aloft intact; — ditch yawning impassable, stone-faced ; the inner
drawbridge, with its back towards us : the" Bastille is still to take !" — Cartel's " French
Resolution." E.
70 HISTORY OF THE
pistol-shot, fired by a person unknown. It is asserted that a letter
had been found upon Delaunay, in which Flesselles thus wrote to
him: " Hold out, while I amuse the Parisians with cockades."
Such were the disastrous events of that day. A feeling of terror
speedily followed the intoxication of victory. The conquerors of the
Bastille, astonished at their audacity, and expecting to find the hand
of authority formidable on the following day, durst not make them-
selves known. Every moment, rumours were spread that the troops
were approaching to storm Paris. Moreau de St. Mery, the same per-
son who on the preceding day had threatened the brigands to blow up
the H8tel de Ville, remained unshaken, and issued upwards of three
thousand orders in a few hours. As soon as the capture of the Bas-
tille was known at the Hdtel de Ville, the electors had sent the intelli-
gence to the Assembly, which received it about midnight. The sitting
was suspended, and the tidings spread with rapidity. The court, up
to this moment, conceiving no notion of the energy of the people,
laughing at the efforts of a blind rabble to take a fortress which the
great Conde had besieged in vain, was calmly cracking its jokes on
the subject. The King, nevertheless, began to be uneasy : his last
answers had betrayed his grief. He had retired to bed. The Duke
de Liancourt, so well known for his generous sentiments, was the
particular friend of Louis XVI., and, by virtue of his office of grand-
master of the wardrobe, he always had access to the King. On learn-
ing the occurrences in Paris, he repaired in all haste to the apart-
ment of the monarch, awoke him in spite of the ministers, and
informed him of what had happened. " What, rebellion !" exclaimed
the prince. " Sire," replied the duke, " rather say revolution." The
King, enlightened by his representations, consented to go the next
morning to the Assembly. The court yielded also, and this act of
confidence was resolved upon. During this interval, the Assembly had
resumed its sitting. Unacquainted with the new dispositions imparted
to the King, it determined to send a last deputation, to try to move
him, and to obtain from him what he had not yet been prevailed upon
to grant. This deputation was the fifth since the commencement of
those calamitous events. It was composed of twenty-four members,
and was just setting out when Mirabeau, more vehement than ever,
stopped it. " Tell the King," cried he, — " be sure to tell him, that
the foreign hordes by which we are invested were yesterday invited
by the princes, the princesses, the he-favourites, and the she-favourites,
and received their caresses, and their exhortations, and their presents.
Tell him that the livelong night these foreign satellites, gorged with
money and with wine, have been predicting, in their impious mm
the subjugation of France, and that their brutal wishes invoked the de-
struction of the National Assembly. Tell him that, in his very palace,
the courtiers mingled with their dances the sound of that barbarous
music, and that such was the prelude to the massacre of St. Bartho
lomew. Tell him that that Henry, whose memory the whole world
blesses, that one of his ancestors whom he meant to take for his pat*
tern, allowed provisions to be conveyed into rebellious Paris, which
he was besieging in person ; whereas, his ferocious councillors are
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 71
turning back the flour that commerce is sending to faithful and
famished Paris."
The deputation was just about to proceed to the King, when news
arrived that he was coming, of his own accord, without guards and
without escort. The hall rang with applause. " Wait," cried Mira-
beau gravely, " till the King has made us acquainted with his good
dispositions. Let a sullen respect be the first welcome paid to the
monarch in this moment of grief. The silence of nations is a lesson
for kings."
Louis XVI. then entered, accompanied by his two brothers. His
simple and touching address excited the warmest enthusiasm. He
spoke cheeringly to the Assembly, which he called for the first time,
the National Assembly. He mildly complained of the suspicions that
had been conceived of him. " You have been afraid of me," said
he ; " now, for my part, I put my trust in you." <These words were
hailed with applause. The deputies immediately rose, surrounded
the monarch, and escorted him back on foot to the palace. The
throng pressed around him ; tears started from every eye ; and he
could scarcely open himself a passage through this numerous retinue.
The Queen, stationed at that moment with the court in a balcony,
contemplated from a distance this affecting scene. Her son was in
her arms : her daughter, standing beside her, was sportively playing
with her brother's hair. The princess, deeply moved, appeared to be
delighted by this expression of the love of the French. Ah ! how
often has a reciprocal emotion reconciled hearts during these fatal
dissensions ! For a moment all seemed to be forgotten ; but, on the
morrow, nay, perhaps the very same day, the court had resumed its
pride, the people their distrust, and implacable hatred recommenced
its course.
Peace was made with the assembly, but it had yet to be made with
Paris. The Assembly first sent a deputation to the H6tel de Ville to
convey the tidings of the happy reconciliation brought about with the
King. Bailly, Lafayette, and Lally-Tollendal, were among its mem-
bers. Their presence diffused the liveliest joy. The speech of Lally
excited such transport, that he was carried in triumph to a window of
the HQtel de Ville to be shown to the people. A wreath of flowers
was placed on his head, and these honours were paid him facing the
very spot where his father expired with a gag in his mouth. The death
of the unfortunate Flesselles, the head of the municipality, and the
refusal of the Duke d'Aumont to accept the command of the civic
militia, left the appointments of provost and commandant-general to
be filled up. Bailly was proposed, and amidst the loudest acclama-
tions he was nominated successor to Flesselles, with the title of mayor
of Paris. The wreath which had been placed on the head of Lally
was transferred to that of the new mayor ; he would have taken it off,
but the Archbishop of Paris held it where it was in opposition to his
wishes. The virtuous old man could not repress his tears, and he
resigned himself to his new functions. A worthy representative of
a great assembly, in presence of the majesty of the throne, be wa|
less capable of withstanding the storms of a commonalty, where the
72 HISTORY OF THE
multitude struggled tumultuously against its magistrates. With exem-
plary self-denial, however, he prepared to undertake the difficult task
of providing subsistence and feeding a populace who repaid him in
the sequel with such base ingratitude. A commandant of the militia
yet remained to be appointed. There was in the hall a bust >• nt
by enfranchised America to the city of Paris: Moreau de St. Mt-ry
pointed to it with his finger; all eyes were directed towards it. It
was the bust of the Marquis de Lafayette. A general cry proclaimed
him commandant. A Te Deum was instantly voted, and the assem-
bly proceeded in a body to Notre-Dame. The new magistrates, the
Archbishop of Paris, the electors, mingled with French guards and
soldiers of the militia, walking arm in arm, repaired to the ancient
cathedral, in a species of intoxication. By the way, the Foundlings
threw themselves at the feet of Bailly, who had laboured zealously in
behalf of the hospitals, and called him their father. Bailly clasped them
in his arms, and called them his children. On reaching the church,
the ceremony was performed, and the congregation then dispersed in
the City, where a delirious joy had succeeded the terrors of the pre-
ceding day. At this moment the people were flocking to see the den
so long dreaded, to which there was now free access. They visit* d
the Bastille with an eager curiosity, and with a sort of terror. They
sought for the instruments of torture, for the deep dungeons. They
went thither more particularly to see an enormous stone, placed in the
middle of a dark and damp prison, to the centre of which was fixed a
ponderous chain.
The court, as blind in its apprehensions as it had been in its con-
fidence, felt such a dread of the populace, that it imagined every
moment that a Parisian army was marching to Versailles. The Count
d'Artois, and the Polignac family, so dear to the Queen, quitted
France at that time, and were the first emigrants. Bailly came to
cheer the King, and persuaded him to return to Paris, which he
resolved to do, in spite of the resistance of the Queen and the court.*
The King prepared to set out. Two hundred deputies were direct-
ed to accompany him. The Queen took leave of him with profound
grief. The body-guard escorted him to Sevres, where they stopped
to await his return. Bailly, at the head of the municipality, received
him at the gates of Paris, and presented to him the keys formerly
offered to Henry IV. " That good King," said Bailly to him, " had
conquered his people ; at present, it is the people whp have re-con-
quered their King." The nation, legislating at Versailles, was armed
* " The day of the King's entry into Paris was the first of the emigration of the
noblesse. The violent austocratical party, finding all their coercive measures over-
turned, and dreading the effects of popular resentment, left the kingdom. The
Count d'Artois, the Prince of Conde, the Prince ofConti, Marshall Broglin, and the
whole family of the Polignacs, set off in haste, and arrived in safety at Brussels— a
fttal example of defection, which, being speedily followed by the inferior nobility, pro-
duced the most disastrous consequences. But it whs the same in all the subsequent
changes of the Revolution. The leaders of the royalist party, always the first to pro-
pose violent measures, were at the same time unable to support them when furiously
opposed ; they diminished the sympathy of the world at their fall from so high a rank,
by showing that they were unworthy of it." — Alison's French Revolution. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 73
at Paris. Louis XVL, on entering, found himself surrounded by a
silent multitude, arrayed in military order. He arrived at the Hotel
de Ville, passing under an arch of swords crossed over his head, as
a mark of honour. His address was simple and touching. The
people, unable to contain themselves, at length burst forth, and
lavished upon the King their accustomed applause. These acclama-
tions somewhat soothed the heart of the prince; nevertheless, he
could not disguise a feeling of joy on perceiving the body-guard
stationed on the heights of Sevres ; and, at his return, the Queen,
throwing herself into his arms, embraced him as though she had been
afraid that she should never see him again.
Louis XVL, in order to satisfy completely the public wish, ordered
the dismissal of the new ministers, and the reinstatement of Necker.
M. de Liancourt, the friend of the King, and his most useful adviser,
was elected president by the Assembly. The noble deputies, who,
though they attended the deliberations, still refused to take any part
in them, at length yielded and gave their votes. Thus was consum
mated the amalgamation of the orders. From that moment the Revo-
lution might be looked upon as accomplished. The nation, possessed
of the legislative power through the Assembly, and of the public
force through itself, could henceforward carry into effect whatever
was beneficial to its interest. It was by refusing the equality of im-
posts that the government had rendered the States-General necessary ;
it was by refusing a just division of authority among those states that
it had lost all influence over them ; finally, it was in attempting to
recover that influence that it had driven Paris to insurrection, and
provoked the whole nation to appropriate to itself the public force.
At this moment all was agitation in that immense capital, where a
new authority had just been established. The same movement which
had impelled the electors to set themselves in action, urged all classes
to do the same. The Assembly had been imitated by the H8tel de Ville,
the HOtel de Ville by the districts, and the districts by all the corpora-
tions. Tailors, shoemakers, bakers, domestic servants, meeting at
the Louvre, in the Place Louis XV., in the Champs Elysees, delibe-
rated in form, notwithstanding the repeated prohibitions of the muni-
cipality. Amidst these contrary movements, the Hfitel de Ville,
opposed by the districts, and annoyed by the Palais Royal, was
encompassed with obstacles, and was scarcely adequate to the duties
of its immense administration. It combined in itself alone the civil,
judicial, and military authority. The head-quarters of the militia
were established there. The judges, at first, uncertain respecting
their powers, sent thither accused persons. It possessed even the
legislative power, for it was charged to form a constitution for itself.
For this purpose, Bailly had demanded two commissioners for each
district, who, by the name of representatives of the commune, were to
draw up its constitution. The electors, in order that they might be
able to attend to all these duties, had divided themselves into several
committees. One, called the committee of research, superintended
the police ; another, called the committee of subsistence, directed its
attention to the supply of provisions — the most difficult and danger-
vol. i. — 10 4
74 HISTORY OF THE
©us task of all. It was in the latter that Bailly was himself obliged
to labour night and day. It was necessary to make continual pur-
chases of corn, then to get it ground, and afterwards carried to Paris
through the famished country. The convoys were frequently stopped,
and it required numerous detachments to prevent pillage by the way
and in the markets. Though the state sold corn at a loss, that the
bakers might keep down the price of bread, the multitude was not
satisfied : it was found expedient to reduce the price still more, and
the dearth of Paris was increased by this very diminution, because
the country people flocked thither to supply themselves. Fears for
the morrow caused all who could to lay in an abundant stock, and
thus what was accumulated in some hands left nothing for others. It
is confidence that accelerates the operations of commerce, that pro-
duces an abundant supply of articles of consumption, and that renders
their distribution equal and easy. But when confidence disappears,
commercial activity ceases ; articles of consumption no longer arri-
ving in sufficient quantity to meet the wants, those wants become
importunate, add confusion to dearth, and prevent the proper distri-
bution of the little that is left. The supply of subsistence was there-
fore the most arduous duty of all. Bailly and the committee were a
prey to painful anxieties. The whole labour of the day scarcely suf-
ficed for the wants of the day, and they had to begin again on the
morrow with the same perplexities.
Lafayette, commandant of the civic militia, had as many troubles
to encounter as Bailly. He had incorporated into this militia the
French guards devoted to the cause of the revolution, a certain num-
ber of Swiss, and a great quantity of'soldiers who had deserted from
their regiments in the hope of higher pay. The King had himself
authorized this proceeding. These troops, collectively, formed what
were called the companies of the centre. The militia assumed the
name of the national guard, adopted a uniform, and added to the two
colours of the Parisian cockade, red and blue, the white colour, which
was that of the King. This was the tricoloured cockade, whose des-
tinies Lafayette predicted, when he declared that it would make the
tour of the world.
It was at the head of these troops that Lafayette strove, for two
consecutive years, to maintain the public tranquillity, and to enforce the
execution of the laws which the Assembly daily enacted. Lafayette,
the offspring of an ancient family which had remained uncontamiuat* d
amidst the corruption of the great, endowed with u firm and upright
mind, and fond of true glory, had become weary of the frivolities of
the court and of the pedantic discipline of our armies. As his own
country offered nothing noble to be attempted, he decided in favour
of the most generous enterprise of the age, and embarked for Ame-
rica, the day after that on which a report reached Europe that it was
subdued. He there fought by the side of Washington, and decided
the enfranchisement of the New World by the alliance of France.
Returning to his own country with a European renown, welcomed at
court as a novelty, he showed himself there, simple and free as an Ame-
rican. When philosophy, which had been but a pastime for noble idlers*,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 75
required sacrifices from them, Lafayette persisted almost alone in
his opinions, demanded the States-General, contributed powerfully to
the junction of the orders, and, by way of recompense, was appointed
commandant-general of the National Guard. Lafayette had not the
passions and the genius which frequently lead to the abuse of power:
with an equable mind, a sound understanding, and a system of inva-
riable disinterestedness, he was peculiarly fitted for the part which cir-
cumstances had allotted to him — that of superintending the execution
of the laws. Adored by his troops, though he had not captivated
them by victory, ever calm and full of resources, amidst the ebulli-
tions of the multitude he preserved order with indefatigable vigilance.
The parties which had found him incorruptible, depreciated his abi-
lities, because they could not attack his character. He formed, how-
ever, no false estimate of men and events, appreciated the court and
the party leaders at no more than their real value, and protected them
at the peril of his life without esteeming them ; struggled, frequently
without hope, against the factions, but with the perseverance of a
man who is determined never to forsake the public weal, even when
he deems it hopeless.
Lafayette, notwithstanding his indefatigable vigilance, was not al-
ways successful in his endeavours to check the popular fury. For,
let a force be ever so active, it cannot show itself every where against
a populace that is every where in agitation, and looks upon every
man as an enemy. Every moment, the most absurd reports were cir-
culated and credited. Sometimes it was said that the soldiers of the
French guards had been poisoned ; at others, that the flour had been
wilfully adulterated, or that its arrival had been prevented ; and those
who took the greatest pains to *bring it to the capital, were obliged to
appear before an ignorant mob, who overwhelmed them with abuse or
covered them with applause, according to the humour of the moment.
Whether it was, however, that men were paid for aggravating the
disturbances by instigating the rabble, or that they had still more de-
testable motives, so much is certain, that they directed the fury of the
people, who knew not either how to select or to seek long for their vic-
tims. Foulon and Berthier were pursued and apprehended at a dis-
tance from Paris. This was done with evident design. There was
nothing spontaneous in the proceedings, except the fury of the mob ne-
wborn they were murdered. Foulon, formerly an intendant, a harsh
and rapacious man, had committed horrible extortions, and had been one
of the ministers appointed to succeed Necker and his colleagues. I It-
was apprehended at Virey, though he had spread a report of his death.
He was conveyed to Paris, and reproached by the way with having
said that the people ought to be made to eat hay. A collar of nettles
was put round his neck, a bunch of thistles in his hand, and a truss of
hay at his back. In this state he was dragged to the H6tel de Ville.
At the same instant, his son-in-law, Berthier de Sauvigny, was appre-
hended at Compiegne, by an order, as it was alleged, of the commune
of Paris, which had never issued any such order. The commune
instantly wrote, directing that he should be released ; but this injunc-
tion was not executed. He was brought to Paris at the very moment
76 HISTORY OF THE
that Foulon was exposed at the H6tel de Ville to the rage of the fu
rabble. They were for putting him to death. The remonstran
Lafayette had pacified them for a moment, and they consented that
Foulon should be tried ; but they insisted that sentence should be
passed forthwith, that they might be gratified by its immediate ea
tion. Some electors had been chosen to act as judges; but they had
on various pretexts refused the terrible office. At length Bailly and
Lafayette were designated for it ; and they were already reduced to
the cruel extremity of devoting themselves to the rnge of the populnce
or sacrificing a victim. Lafayette, however, continued to temporize
with great art and firmness : he had several times addressed the crowd
with success. The unfortunate Foulon, placed on a seat by his
had the imprudence to applaud his concluding words. " Look you,"
said a bystander, " how they play into each other's hands." At this
expression the crowd became agitated, and rushed upon Foulon. La-
fayette made incredible efforts to save him, from the murderers; again
the unfortunate old man was dragged from him, and hanged to a lamp.
His head was cut off, stuck on a pike, and paraded through Paris.
At this moment Berthier arrived in a cabriolet, escorted the guards,
and followed by the multitude. The bleeding head was shown to him,
without his suspecting that it was the head of his father-in-law. He
was conducted to the H tel de Ville, where he uttered a few words,
full of courage and indignation. Seized anew by the mob, he disen-
gaged himself for a moment, snatched a weapon, made a desperate
defence, and soon perished like the unhappy Foulon. These mur-
ders had been conducted by enemies either to Foulon or to the
public welfare ; for the apprehension of the victims was the result of
contrivance, though the fury of the rabble at sight of them had beta
spontaneous, like most of its movements. Lafayette, full of grief and
indignation, resolved to resign. Bailly and the municipality, alarmed
at this intention, were anxious to divert him from it. It was then
agreed that he should announce his resignation, to show his dissatis-
faction with the people, but that he should suffer himself to be per-
suaded to retain his command by the entreaties that would not fail to
be addressed to him. The people and the militia did actually throng
around him, and promised the utmost obedience in future. On this
condition he resumed the command ; and, subsequently, he had the
satisfaction of preventing many disturbances by his own energy and
the zeal of his troops.
Meanwhile Necker had received at Basle the commands of the
King and the solicitations of the Assembly. It was the Polignacs,
whom he had left triumphant at Versailles, and whom he encountered
as fugitives at Basle, that first apprized him of the misfortunes of the
throne, and the sudden return to favour that awaited him. He set
out and traversed France, drawn in triumph by the people, to whom,
according to his custom, he recommended peace and good order.
Though an enemy of the Baron de Besenval, he went to his suc-
cour, and promised to demand his pardon from the Parisians. The
King received him with embarrassment, the Assembly with enthusi-
asm ; and he resolved to proceed to Paris, where he too might expect
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 77
to have his day of triumph. Necker's intention was to solicit of the
electors the pardon and liberation of the Baron de Besenval. In vain
did Bailly, not less an enemy than himself to rigorous measures, but
a more just appreciator of circumstances, represent to him the danger
of such a step, and observe that this favour, obtained in a moment of
excitement, would be revoked next day as illegal, because an admi-
nistrative body could neither condemn nor pardon ; Necker persisted,
and made a trial of his influence over the capital. He repaired to the
H6tel de Ville on the 29th of July. His hopes were surpassed, and
he could not help believing himself omnipotent on beholding the trans-
ports of the multitude. Deeply affected, his eyes filled with tears, he
demanded a general amnesty, which was instantly granted by accla-
mation. The two assemblies of the electors and representatives,
manifested equal enthusiasm : the electors decreed a general amnesty ;
the representatives of the commune ordered the liberation of Besenval.
Necker retired intoxicated, taking to himself the plaudits that were
addressed tohis dismissal from office. But that very day he was des-
tined to be undeceived. Mirabeau prepared for him a cruel reverse.
In the Assembly, in the districts, a general outcry was raised against
the sensibility of the minister, very excusable, it was said, but mista-
ken. The district &f the Oratoire, instigated, as we are assured, by
Mirabeau, was the first to find fault. It was maintained on all sides
that an administrative body could neither condemn nor absolve. The
illegal measure of the HQtel de Ville was annulled, and the detention
of the Baron de Besenval confirmed. So soon was verified the opi-
nion of the sagacious Bailly, which Necker could not be persuaded
to follow.
At this moment parties began to speak out more decidedly. The
parliaments, the nobility, the clergy, the court, all threatened with the
same ruin, had united their interests, and acted in concert. Neither the
Count d'Artois nor the Polignacs were any longer at the court. Con-
sternation mingled with despair pervaded the aristocracy. Having
been unable to prevent what it termed the evil, it was now desirous that
the people should commit as much evil as possible, in order to bring
about good by the very excess of that evil. This system, compounded
of spite and perfidy, which is called political pessimism, begins
among parties as soon as they have suffered sufficient losses to make
them renounce what they have left in the hope of regaining the whole.
The aristocracy began from this time to adopt this system, and it was
frequently seen voting with the most violent members of the popular
party.
Circumstances draw forth men. The danger which threatened the
nobility, produced a champion for it. Young Cazales, captain in the
Queen's Dragoons, had found in himself an unlooked-for energy of
mind and facility of expression. Precise and simple, he said prompt-
ly and suitably what he had to say ; and it is to be regretted that his
upright mind was devoted to a cause which had no valid reasons to
urge till it had been persecuted. The clergy had found its defender
in the Abb6 Maury. That abbe, a practised and inexhaustible sophist,
had many happy sallies and great coolness : he could courageously
78 HISTORY OF THE
withstand tumult and audaciously oppose evidence. Such were the
means and the dispositions of the aristocracy.
The ministry was without views and without plans. Necker, hated
by the court, which endured him from compulsion, — Necker alone
had, not a plan, but a wish. He had always a longing after the Eng-
lish constitution, the best no doubt that can be adopted, as an accom-
modation between the throne, the aristocracy, and the people ; but
this constitution, proposed by the Bishop of Langres, before the es-
tablishment of a single assembly, and refused by the first orders, had
become impracticable. The high nobility would not admit of two
chambers, because that would be a compromise ; the inferior nobility,
because it could not have access to the upper chamber ; the popular
party, because, still filled with apprehensions of the aristocracy, it was
.unwilling to leave any influence to the latter. A few deputies only,
some from moderation, others because that idea was their own, wished
for English institutions, and formed the whole party of the minister —
a weak party, because it held forth only conciliatory views to exas-
perated passions, and opposed to its adversaries arguments alone,
without any means of action.
The popular party began to disagree, because it began to conquer.
Lally-Tollendal, Mounier, Malouet, and other partisans of Necker,
approved of all that had been done thus far, because all that had been
done had brought over the government to their ideas, that is to say, to
the English constitution. They now judged that this was sufficient ;
reconciled with power, they wished to stop there. The popular party,
on the contrary, conceived that it was not yet time to stop. It was in
the Breton club that the question was discussed with the greatest vehe-
mence. A sincere conviction was the motive of the majority ; per-
sonal pretensions began nevertheless to manifest themselves, and the
movements of private interest to succeed the first flights of patriotism.
Barnave, a young advocate of Grenoble, endowed with a clear and
ready mind, and possessing, in the highest degree, the talents requisite
for a good speaker, formed with the two Lameths a triumvirate, which
interested by its youth, and soon influenced by its activity and its abi-
lities. Duport, the young counsellor to the parliament, whom we have
already seen distinguishing himself, belonged to their association. It
was said at the time that Duport conceived all that ought to be done,
that Barnave expressed it, and that the Lameths executed it. How-
ever, these young deputies were the friends of one another, without
being yet declared enemies to any one.
The most courageous of the popular leaders, he who, ever in the
van, opened the boldest discussions, was Mirabeau. The absurd in-
stitutions of the old monarchy had shocked just minds, and excited the
indignation of upright hearts ; but it was impossible that they should
not have galled some ardent spirit, and inflamed strong passions. This
spirit was that of Mirabeau, who, encountering from his birth every
kind of tyranny, that of his father, of the government, and of the tri-
bunals, spent his youth in combating and in hating them. He was
born beneath the sun of Provence, the offspring of a noble family.
He had early made himself notorious by his dissolute manner?, hta
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 79
quarrels, and an impetuous eloquence. His travels, observation, and
immense reading, had taught him much, and his memory had retained
it all. But extravagant, eccentric, nay, even a sophist, without the aid
of passion, he beenme by its aid quite a different man. No sooner
vraa In- •netted by the tribune and the presence of his opponents than
his mind took fire : his first ideas were confused, his words incoherent,
I u< whole frame agitated, but presently the light burst forth. His
mind then performed in a moment the labour of years; and in the
very tribune all was to him new discovery, sudden and energetic ex-
pression. If again crossed, he returned, still more forcible and more
clear, and presented the truth in images either striking or terrible.
Were the circumstances difficult, were minds fatigued by a long dis-
cussion, or intimidated by danger, an ejaculation, a decisive word,
dropped from his lips, his couutenance looking terrific with ugliness
and genius, and the Assembly, enlightened or encouraged, enacted
laws or passed magnanimous resolutions.
Proud of his high qualities, jesting over his vices, by turns haughty
or supple, he won some by his flattery, awed others by his sarcasms,
and led all in his train by the extraordinary influence which he pos-
sessed. His party was every where, among the people, in the Assem-
bly, in the very court, with all those, in short, to whom he was at the
moment addressing himself. Mingling familiarly with men, just when
it was requisite to do so, he had applauded the rising talent of Bar-
nave, though he disliked his young friends ; he appreciated the pro-
found understanding of Sieyes, and humoured his wild disposition ;
he dreaded too pure a life in Lafayette ; in Necker he detested an ex-
treme rigour, the pride of reason, and the pretension of directing a
revolution which he knew to be attributable to him. He was not friendly
to the Duke of Orleans and his unsteady ambition, and, as we shall
soon see, he never had any interest in common with him. Thus, un-
aided except by his genius, he attacked despotism, which he had
sworn to destroy. If, however, he was a foe to the vanities of monar-
chy, he was still more adverse to the ostracism of republics ; but, not
being sufficiently revenged on the great and on power, he still conti-
nued to destroy. Harassed mpreover by straightened circumstances,
dissatisfied with the present, he was advancing towards an unknown
future ; by his talents, his ambition, his vices, his pecuniary embar-
rassments, he gave rise to all sorts of conjectures, and by his cynical
language he authorized all suspicions and all calumnies.
Thus were France and the parties divided. The first differences
between the popular deputies arose on occasion of the excesses
committed by the multitude. Mounier and Lally-Tollendal proposed
a solemn proclamation to the people, to reprobate their outrages. The
Assembly, sensible of the uselessness of this measure, and the neces-
sity for preserving the good-will of the populace who had supported
it, at first rejected this proposal, but, afterwards, yielding to the solicita-
tions of some of its members, it at length issued a proclamation, which
proved, as it had been foreseen, utterly useless, for it is not by words
that an excited populace can be pacified.
The agitation was general. A sudden terror had spread itself every
80 HISTORY OF THE
where. The name of those brigands who had been seen starting up
in the different commotions was in all mouths, and their image in all
minds. The court threw the blame of their outrages on the popular
party, and the popular party on the court. All at once, couriers tra-
versing France in all directions, brought tidings that the brigands
were coming, and that they were cutting the corn before it was ripe.
People assembled from all quarters, and in a few days all France was
in arms, awaiting the brigands, who never made their appearance.
This stratagem, which extended the revolution of the 14th of July to
every part of the kingdom, by causing the whole natiou to take up
arms, was attributed to all the parties, and has since been imputed to
the popular party, which benefitted by its results. It is surprising that
a stratagem, more ingenious than culpable, should be bandied about
from one to the other. It has been ascribed to Mirabeau, who boasted
of being its author, and who nevertheless has disavowed it. It w;is
not unlike a contrivance by Sieyes, and some have imagined that it
was he who suggested it to the Duke of Orleans. Lastly, it was im-
puted by others to the court. Such persons argue, that those couriers
would have been apprehended at every step had they not been autho-
rized by the government ; that the court, never having supposed the
revolution to be general, and looking upon it as a mere riot of the
Parisians, wished to arm the provinces for the purpose of opposing
them to the capital. Be this as it may, the expedient proved benefi-
cial to the nation, by arming and enabling it to protect itself and its
rights.
The people of the towns had shaken off their fetters ; the country
people also determined to shake off theirs. They refused to pay the
feudal dues ; they attacked such of the landholders as had oppi •
them ; they set fire to their mansions, burned their title-deeds, and,
in some parts of the country, committed atrocious acts of revenge. A
deplorable accident had greatly contributed to excite this unit
effervescence. A Sieur de Mesmai, seigneur of Quincey, gave an en-
tertainment in the grounds about his mansion. All the country peo-
ple were assembled there, and indulging in various amusements, when
a barrel of gunpowder, suddenly takiyg fire, produced a murderous
explosion. This accident, since ascertained to have been the effect of
imprudence and not of design, was imputed as a crime to the Sieur de
Mesmai. The report of it soon spread, and every where pro\
the barbarity of those peasants, hardened by misery, and rendered
cruel by long sufferings. The ministers came in a body to submit to
the Assembly a picture of the deplorable state of France, aud to de-
mand from it the means of restoring order. These disasters of all
kinds had occurred since the 1 4th of July. The month of August
was beginning, and it became indispensable tore-establish the action of
the government and of the laws. Hut, to attempt this with success, it
was necessary to commence tho regeneration of the state, with the re-
form of the institutions which were most obnoxious to the people, and
had the greatest tendency to excite them to insurrection. One part of
the nation, subject to the other, was burdened with a number of what
were termed feudal dues. Some, called useful, compelled the p<
FFwENCH REVOLUTION. 81
to make ruinous advances ; others, named honorary, required them
to pay humiliating marks of respect and services to their lords. These
were relics of the feudal barbarism, the abolition of which was due to
humanity. These privileges, considered as property, and even called
so by the King in the declaration of the ~'h\ of June, could not be
abolished by a discussion. It was requisite, by a sudden movement,
to excite the possessors to resign them of their own accord.
The Assembly was then discussing the famous declaration of the
rights of man. It had at first been debated whether there should be
such a declaration or not, and it had been decided, on the morning of
the 4th of August, that it should be made and placed at the head of
the constitution. In the evening of the same day, the committee made
its report on the disturbances and the means of putting an end to them.
The Viscount de Noailles and the Duke d'Aigudlon, both members of
the nobility, then ascended the tribune, and represented that it would
be silly to employ force to quiet the people ; that the right way would
be to destroy the cause of their sufferings, and then the agitation
which was the effect of -them would instantly cease. Explaining
themselves more fully, they proposed to abolish all the vexatious rights,
which, by the name of feudal rights, oppressed the country people.
M. Leguen de Kerengal, a landholder of Bretagne, appeared in the
tribune in the dress of a farmer, and drew a frightful picture of the
feudal system. Presently the generosity of some was excited, and
the pride of others wrought upon to such a degree, as to produce a
sudden paroxysm of disinterestedness; every one hurried to the tribune
to renounce his privileges. The nobility set the first example, which
was as cheerfully followed by the clergy. A sort of intoxication seized
the Assembly. Setting aside a superfluous discussion, and which cer-
tainly was not required to demonstrate the justice of such sacrifices,
all orders, all classes, all the possessors of prerogatives of every kind,
hastened to renounce them. After the deputies of the first orders, those
of the commons came also. to offer their sacrifices. Having no personal
privileges to give up, they relinquished those of the provinces and the
towns. The equality of rights, established between individuals, was thus
established also between all the parts of the French territory. Some of-
fered pensions, and a member of parliament, having nothing else to give,
promised his zeal in behalf of the public welfare. The steps of the
office were covered with deputies who came to deliver the acts of their
renunciation. They were content for the moment to enumerate the
sacrifices, and deferred till the following day the drawing up of the
articles. The impulse was general, but amidst this enthusiasm, it was
easy to perceive that certain of the privileged persons, so far from
being sincere, were desirous only of making matters worse. Every
thing was to be feared from the effect of that night and the impulse
given, when Lally-Tollcndal, perceiving the danger, caused a note to
this effect to be handed to the president : " Every thing is to be appre-
hended from the enthusiasm of the Assembly ; break up the sitting."
At the same instant, a deputy ran up to him, and, grasping his hand
with emotion, said to him, " Procure us the royal sanction, and we are
friends." Lally-Tollendal, sensible of the necessity of attuching the
TOL. I. 11 4
S3 HISTORY OF THE
revolution to the King, then proposed to proclaim him the restorer of
French liberty. The motion was hailed with enthusiasm ; it was re-
solved that Te Deiim should be performed, and the Assembly at length
broke up about midnight.
During this memorable night the Assembly had decreed :
The abolition of the quality of serf;
The right of compounding for the seignorial dues ;
The abolition of the seignorial jurisdictions ;
The suppression of the exclusive rights to hunt, to keep dovecotes,
warrens, &c. ; *
The redemption of tithes ;
The equality of taxes ;
The admission of all the citizens to civil and military employ-
ments;
The abolition of the sale of offices ;
The suppression of all the privileges of the towns and provinces ;
The reformation of the jurandes ;
And the suppression of pensions obtained without claims.
These resolutions had been passed in a general form, and they still
remained to be embodied in decrees ; and then, the first fervour of
generosity having subsided, some strove to extend, others to contract,
the concessions obtained. The discussion grew warm, and a late ami
injudicious resistance did away with all claim to gratitude.
The abolition of feudal rights had been agreed upon ; but it was
necessary to make a distinction between such of these rights as were
to be abolished, and those that were to be redeemed. The conquerors,
the first creators of the nobility, when of old they subdued the conn
try, imposed services upon the inhabitants, and a tribute upon the land
They had even seized part of the latter, and had gradually restored it
to the cultivators only on the condition of being paid perpetual rents.
A long possession, followed by numerous transfers, constituting pro-
perty, all the charges imposed upon the inhabitants and the hinds had
acquired the same character. The Constituent Assembly was there-
fore compelled to attack property. In this situation, it was not as
more or less acquired, but as being more or less burdensome to soci-
ety, that the Assembly had to deal with it. It abolished personal a
vices ; and, several of these services having been changed into quit-
rents, it abolished these quit-rents. Among the tributes imposed upon
land, it abolished those which were evidently the relics of servitude,
as the fines imposed upon transfer ; and it declared redeemable ail
the perpetual rents, that were the price for which the nobility had i
merly ceded part of the lands to the cultivators. Nothing, therefore,
is more absurd, than to accuse the Constituent Assembly of hu\ in g
violated property, since everything had become such ; and it is strange
that the nobility, havingso long violated it, either by imposing trihu
or by not paying taxes, should become all at once so tenacious of prin-
ciples, when its own prerogatives were at stake. The seignorial con
were also called property, because they had forages been transmitted
from heir to heir : but the Assembly, disregarding this plea, abolished
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 83
them ; directing, however, that they should be kept up till a substitute
should be provided for them.
The exclusive right of the chase was also a subject of warm dis
cussion. Notwithstanding the vain objection, that the whole popula-
tion would soon be in arms if the right of sporting were made general,
it was conferred on every one within the limits of his own lands.
The privileged dovecotes were in like manner defended. The Assem-
bly decided that every body might keep them, but that in harvest-time
pigeons might be killed like ordinary game, upon the lands which
they might be visiting. All the captainships were abolished, but it was
added, that provision should be made for the private pleasures of the
King by means compatible with liberty and property.
One article gave rise to discussions of peculiar violence, on account
of the more important questions to which it was the prelude, and the
interests which it attacked — this was an article relative to tithes. On
the night of the 4th of August, the Assembly had declared that tithes
might be redeemed. At the moment of drawing up the decree, it
determined to abolish them without redemption, taking care to add
that the state should provide for the maintenance of the clergy. There
was no doubt an informality in this decision, because it interfered with
a resolution already adopted. But to this objection, Garat answered
that this would be a bond fide redemption, since the state actually re-
deemed the tithes to the relief of the contributor, by undertaking to
make a provision for the clergy. The Abbe Sieyes, who was seen
with surprise among the defenders of the tithes, and who was not
supposed to be a disinterested defender of that impost, admitted in
fact that the state really redeemed the tithes, but that it committed a
robbery on the mass of the nation, by throwing upon its shoulders a
debt which ought to be borne by the landed proprietors alone. This
objection, urged in a striking manner, was accompanied with this
keen and since frequently repeated expression : " You waut to be free,
and you know not how to be just." Though Sieyes thought this ob-
jection unanswerable, the answer to it was easy. The debt incurred
for the support of religion is the debt of all ; whether it should be paid
by the landed proprietors rather than by the whole of the tenants, is a
point for the state to decide. It robs nobody by dividing the burden
in such a manner as it deems most proper. Tithes, by oppressing the
little proprietors, destroyed agriculture ; the state had therefore a
right to provide a substitute for that impost ; and this Mirabeau proved
to demonstration. The clergy, which preferred tithes, because it
foresaw that the salary adjudged by the state would be measured ac-
cording to its real necessities, claimed a property in tithes by imme-
morial concessions ; it renewed that oft-repeated argument of long
possession, which proves nothing ; otherwise every thing, not except-
ing tyranny itself, would be rendered legitimate by possession. It was
answered, that tithe was only a life-interest, that it was not trans-
ferable, and had not the principal characters of property ; that it was
evidently a tax imposed in favour of the clergy ; and that the state
undertook to ehange this tax into another. The pride of the clergy
revolted at the idea of its receiving a salary ; on this subject it com-
84 HISTORY OF THE
bined with vehemence : and Mirabeau, who was particularly dexterous
in launching the shafts of reason and irony, replied to the complain-
ants that he knew of but three ways of existing in society — by robbing,
begging, or being paid a salary. The clergy felt that it behooved it to
give up what it was no longer able to defend. The curbs in particular,
knowing that they had every thing to gain from, the spirit of justice
which pervaded the Assembly, and that it was the opulence of the pre-
lates which wns the especial object of attack, were the first to desist. The
entire abolition of tithes was therefore decreed ; it was added that the
state would take upon itself the expense of providing for the ministers
of religion, and that meanwhile the tithe should continue to be levied.
This latter clause, fraught with respect, proved indeed useless. The
people would no longer pay, but that they would not do even before
the passing of the decree ; and, when the Assembly abolished the
feudal system, it was already in fact overthrown. On the 11th, all the
articles were presented to the monarch, who accepted the title of the
restorer of French liberty, and was present at the Te Dettm, having
the president at his right hand, and all the deputies in his train.
Thus was consummated the most important reform of the revolu-
tion. The Assembly had manifested equal energy and moderation.
Unfortunately, a nation never knows how to resume with moderation
the exercise of its rights. Atrocious outrages were committed through-
out the whole kingdom. The mansions of the gentry continued to
be set on fire, and the country was inundated by sportsmen eager to
avail themselves of their newly acquired right. They spread over the
lands formerly reserved for the exclusive pleasure of their oppressors,
and committed frightful devastations. Every usurpation meets with
a cruel retribution, and he who usurps ought at least to consider his
children, who almost always have to pay the penalty. Numerous ac-
cidents occurred. So early as the 7th of August, the ministers again
attended the Assembly for the purpose of laying before it a report on
the state of the kingdom. The keeper of the seals announced the
alarming disturbances which had taken place; Necker revealed t he
deplorable state of the finances. The Assembly received this twofold
message with sorrow, but without discouragement. On the 10th, it
passed a decree relative to the public tranquillity, by which the muni-
cipalities were directed to provide for the preservation of order by
dispersing all seditious assemblages. They were to deliver up mere
rioters to the tribunals ; but those who had excited alarms, circulated
raise orders, or instigated to outrages, were to be imprisoned, and the
proceedings addressed to the National Assembly, that it might be en-
abled to ascertain the cause of these disturbances. The national
militia and the regular troops were placed at the disposal of the mu-
nicipalities, and they were to take an oath to be faithful to the nation,
the King, and the law. This oath was afterwards called the civic
oalll.
The report of Necker on the finances was extremely alarming. I:
wns the want of subsidies that had caused recourse to be had to a Na-
tional Assembly ; no sooner had this AsseVnbly met, than it had com-
menced a struggle with power ; and, directing its whole attention
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 85
to the urgent necessity of establishing guarantees, it had ncglMMf
that of securing the revenues of the state. On Necker alone .
the whole care of the nuances. While Bailly, charged with provi-
sioning tin- capital, was in the most painful anxiety, Necker, hui
by less urgent but far more extensive wants — decker, absorbed in la-
borious calculations, tormented by a thousand troubles, strove to sup-
ply the public necessities; and, while he was thinking only of finan-
cial questions, he was not aware that the Assembly was thinking ex-
clusively of political questious. Necker and the Assembly, each en-
grossed by their own object, perceived no other. If, however, the
alarm of Necker was justified by the actual distress, so was the confi-
dence of the Assembly by the elevation of its views. That Assembly,
embracing France and its future fortunes, could not believe that this
fine kingdom, though involved for the moment in embarrassmeuts, was
for ever plunged into indigence.
Necker, when he entered upon office in August, 178S, had found
but four hundred thousand francs in the exchequer. He had, by dint
iduity, provided for the most urgent wants ; and circumstances
had since increased those wants by diminishing the resources. It had
been found necessary to purchase corn, and sell it again for less than
the cost price ; to give awray considerable sums in alms ; to under-
take public works, in order to furnish employment to the workmen.
For this latter purpose, so much as twelve thousand francs per day had
been issued by the exchequer. While the expenses had increased,
the receipts had diminished. The reduction of the price of salt, the
delay of payments, and in many cases the absolute refusal to pay the
taxes, the smuggling carried on by armed force, the destruction of
the barriers, nay, the plunder of the registers and the murder of the
clerks, had annihilated part of the public revenue. Necker, in con-
sequence, demanded a loan of thirty millions. The first impression
■ strong, that the Assembly was about to vote the loan by accla-
mation; but this first impression soon subsided. A dislike was ex-
d for new loans; a kind of contradiction was committed by ap-
p -aling to the instructions, which had already been renounced, and
which forbade the granting of imposts till the constitution had been
1 : members even went so far as to enter into a calculation of
the sums received since the preceding year, as if they distrusted the
minister. However, the absolute necessity of providing for the wants
of the state caused the loan to be carried ; but the minister's plan was
changed, and the interest reduced to four and a half per cent., in false
reliance upon a patriotism which was in the nation, but which could
not exist in money-lenders by profession, the only persons who in
general enter into financial speculations of this kind. The first blun-
der was one of those which assemblies usually commit, because they
supersede the immediate views of the minister, who acts by the general
views of twelve hundred minds which speculate. It was easy to per-
. therefore, that the spirit of the nation began already not to har-
monize with the timidity of the minister.
Having bestowed this indispensable care on the public tranquillity
and the finances, the Assembly directed its attention to the declara-
86 HISTORY OF THE
tion of rights. The first idea of it had been furnished by Lafayette,
who had himself borrowed it from the Americans. This discussion,
interrupted by the revolution of the 14th of July, renewed on the 1st
of August, a second time interrupted by the abolition of the feudal
system, was anew and definitively resumed on the 12th of August.
This idea had something important which struck the Assembly. The
enthusiasm pervading the minds of the members disposed them to
every thing that was grand ; this enthusiasm produced their sincerity,
their courage, their good and their bad resolutions. Accordingly,
they caught at this idea, and resolved to carry it into execution. Had
they meant only to proclaim certain principles, particularly obnoxious
to the authority whose yoke they had just shaken off, such as the vo-
ting of taxes, religious liberty, the liberty of the press, and ministerial
responsibility, nothing would have been more easy. This was what
America and England had formerly done. France might have com-
pressed into a few pithy and positive maxims, the new principles
which she imposed upon her government ; but, desiring to go back to
a state of nature, she aspired to give a complete declaration of all the
rights of the man and of the citizen. At first the necessity and the
danger of such a declaration were discussed. Much was said and to
no purpose on this subject, for there was neither utility nor danger in
issuing a declaration composed of formulas that were above the com-
prehension of the people. It was something only for a certain num-
ber of philosophic minds, which never take any great part in popular
seditions. It was resolved that it should be made, and placed at the
head of the constitutional act. But it was necessary to draw it up,
and that was the most difficult point. What is a right? — that which
is due to men. Now all the good that can be done to them is their
due ; every wise measure of government is therefore a right. Thus
all the proposed plans contained a definition of the law, the manner
in which it was to be made, the principle of the sovereignty, &c. It
was objected, that these were not rights, but general maxims. It was
nevertheless of importance to express those maxims. Mirabeau, be-
coming impatient, at length exclaimed, " Omit the word rights, and
say, ' For the interest of all it has been declared.' " The more impos-
ing title of declaration of rights was nevertheless preferred, and under
it were blended maxims, principles, and declarations. Out of the
whole was composed the celebrated declaration placed at the head of
the constitution of 1791. In other respects, there was no great harm
done in wasting a few sittings on a philosophic commonplace. Hut
who can censure men for becoming intoxicated with an object by which
they were so much engrossed.
It was at length time to turn to the consideration of the constitu-
tion. The fatigue occasioned by the preliminaries was general, and
the fundamental questions began already to be discussed out of the
Assembly. The English constitution was the model that naturally
presented itself to many minds, since it was the compact made in
England in consequence of a similar struggle between the king, the
aristocracy, and the people. This constitution resided essentially in
the establishment of two chambers and in the royal sanction. Minds
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 87
in their first flight go to the simplest ideas : a people declaring its will,
and a king who executes it, appeared to them the only legitimate form
of government. To give to the aristocracy a share equul to that of the
nation, by means of an upper chamber ; to give to the king the right
of annulling the national will ; seemed to them an absurdity. J'he
nation trills, the king executes: they could not get beyond these sim-
ple elements, and they imagined that they wished for a monarchy,
because they left a king as the executer of the national resolutions.
Real monarchy, as it exists even in states reputed free, is the rule of
one, to which limits are set by means of the national concurrence.
There the will of the prince in reality does almost every thing, and
that of the nation is confined to the prevention of evil, either by dis-
puting the taxes, or by concurring in the law. But the moment that
the nation can order what it pleases, without the king's having the
power to oppose it by n veto, the king is no more than a magistrate. \
It is then a republic, with one consul instead of several. The govern- i u*
ment of Poland, though it had a king, was never called a monarchy 1
but a republic ; there was a king also at Lacedsemon.
Monarchy, properly understood, requires therefore great conces-
sions from opinion. But it is not after a long nullity, and in their first
enthusiasm, that they are disposed to make them. Thus the republic
existed in men's opinions, without being mentioned, and they were
republicans without being aware of it
In the discussion, the members did not explain themselves with
precision : accordingly, notwithstanding the genius and knowledge
to be found by the Assembly, the question was superficially treated
and imperfectly understood. The partisans of the English constitu-
tion, Necker, Mounier, and Lally, could not see in what the monarchy
ought to consist ; and if they had seen it, they durst not have told
the Assembly plainly that the national will ought not to be omnipotent,
and that it ought to confine itself to prevention rather than take upon
itself the executive. All .they had to urge was, that it was necessary
that the King should possess the power of checking the encroach-
ments of an assembly ; that, in order to his duly executing the law,
and executing it cheerfully, it was requisite that he should have co-
operated in it ; and, finally, that there ought to exist a connexion
between the executive and legislative powers. These reasons were
bad, or at any rate weak. It was ridiculous, in fact, whilst recogni-
sing the national sovereignty, to pretend to oppose to it the sole will
of the King.*
* The reader will find in the seauel, at the commencement of the history of the
legislative Assembly, a judgment that appears to me to be just concerning the faults
imputed to the constitution of 1791. I have here but one word to say on the plan of
establishing, at this period, the English form of government in France. That form
of government is a compromise between the three interests which divide modern
states — royalty, the aristocracy, and the democracy. Now this compromise cannot
take place, till after the parties have exhausted their strength, that is to say, after com-
bat, or in other words, after a revolution. In England, in fact, it was not brought
iibout till after a long struggle, after democracy and usurpation. To pretend to eflect
the compromise before the combat, is to attempt to make peace before war. This is
A melancholy, but at the same time an incontestable truth : men never treat till thev
88 HISTORY OF THE
They defended the two chambers more successfully, because there
are, in fact, even in a republic, higher classes which, must oppo-
too rapid movements of the classes that are raising themselves, by
defending the ancient institutions against the Dew institutions. Hut
that upper chamber, more indispensahle than the royal prerogative,
since there is no instance of a republic without a senate, was more
scouted than the sanction, because people were more exasperated
against the aristocracy than against royalty. It was impracticable,
then, to form an upper chamber, because nobody wished for it: the
inferior nobility opposed it, because they could not obtain adm i
into it ; the privileged persons themselves, who were desperate, because
they desired the worst; the popular party, because it would not leave
the aristocracy a post whence it might command the national will.
Mounier, Lally, and Necker, were almost the only members who
wished for this upper chamber. Sieyes, by an absolute error in
judgment, would not admit either of the two chambers or of the royal
sanction. He conceived society to be completely uniform; according
to him, the mass, without distinction of classes, ought to be charged to
will, and the king, as the sole magistrate, to be charged to execute.
He was, therefore, quite sincere when he said that, whether monarchy
or republic, it was the same thing, since the difference consisted, in his
opinion, only in the number of the magistrates charged with tin- i
tion. The characteristic of the mind of Sieyes was concatenation ;
that is to say, the strict connexion of his own ideas. He was in the
best understanding with himself, but he harmonized neither with the
nature of things, nor with minds different from his own. He subdued
them by the empire of his absolute maxims, but rarely persuaded
them : therefore, as he could neither break his systems into parts, nor
cause them to be adopted entire, he naturally began soon to be in an
ill humour. Mirabeau, a man of straightforward, prompt, supple
mind, was not further advanced, in point of political science, than
the Assembly itself; he was adverse to the two chambers, not from
conviction, but from the knowledge of their then impracticability, and
from hatred of the aristocracy. He defended the royal sanction from
a monarchical predilection, and he had pledged himself to it r.t the
opening of the states, when he said, that without the sanction he
would rather live at Constantinople than in Paris. Barnavc, Duport,
and Laraeth, could not agree in these sentiments of Mirabeau. They
were for not admitting either of the upper chamber or of the royal
sanction ; but they were not so obstinate as Sieyes, and consented to
modify their opinion by allowing the King and the upper chamber
a merely suspensive veto, that is to say, the power of temporarily
opposing the national will, expressed in the lower chamber.
have exhausted their strength. The English constitution, therefore, was not practi-
cable in France till after the revolution. It was no doubt well to preach it up. but
those who did so went injudiciously to work; and, had they even shown better judg-
ment, they might not have been more successful. I shall add, in order to diminish
regret, that, had even the entire English constitution been inscribed on oar table of
the law, this treaty would not have appeased men's passions, till the parties bad cmno
to blows, and the batik had been fought in spite of tins preliminary treaty. I
it, then, war, that is, revolution, was indispensable. God has given justice to aiea
only at the price of battles.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 89
The first discussions took place on the 28th and 29th of August.
The friends of Barnave were desirous of treating with Mounier, whose
obstinacy* had made him leader of the party in favour of the English
constitution. It behooved them to gain over the most inflexible, and
to him therefore they addressed themselves. Conferences were held;
u hen it was found to be impossible to change an opinion that had been
long cherished by him ; they assented to those English forms to which
he was so wedded ; but on condition that, in opposing to the popular
chamber an upper chamber and the King, only one suspensive veto
should be given to the two, and that, moreover, the King should not
authority to dissolve the Assembly. Mounier replied, like a man
whose mind is thoroughly convinced, that truth was not his property,
and that he could not sacrifice one part to save the other. Thus did
he wreck both institutions by refusing to modify them. And if it
were true, which it was not, as we shall presently see, that the consti-
tution of 1791 overturned the throne by the suppression of the upper
chamber, Mounier would have occasion to reproach himself severely.
Mounier was not passionate but obstinate ; he was as absolute in his
system as Sieyes was in his, and preferred losing all to giving up any
thing. The negotiations were broken off in anger. Mounier had
been threatened with the public opinion of Paris, and his adversaries
set out, he said, to exercise that influence with which he had been
menaced.*
* I am far from censuring the obstinacy of Mounier, for nothing is more respecta-
ble than conviction ; but its a curious fact to ascertain. Here follows a passage
on this subject, extracted from his Report to his Constituents : " Several deputies,"
says he, " resolved to obtain from me the sacrifice of this principle, (the royal sane-
tion,) or, by sacrificing it themselves, to induce me, out of gratitude, to grant them
some compensation. They took me to the house of a zealous partisan of liberty,
who desired a coalition between them and me, in order that liberty might meet with
fewer obstacles, and who wished merely to be present at our conferences, without
taking any part in the decision. With a view to try to convince them or to en-
lighten myself, I assented to these conferences. They declaimed strongly against the al-
leged inconveniences of the unlimited right which the King would possess to set aside
a new law, and I was assured that, if this right were to be recognised by the Assem-
bly, there would be a civil war. These conferences, twice renewed, were unsuccess-
ful; they were recommenced at the house of an American, known for his abilities
and his virtues, who had both the experience and the theory of the institutions proper
for maintaining liberty. He gave an opinion infavour of my principles. When they
found that all their efforts to make me give up my opinion were useless, they at length
declared that they attached but little importance to the question of the royal sanction,
though they had represented it, a few days before, as a subject for civil war ; they
offered to vote for the unlimited sanction, and to vote also for two chambers, but
upon condition that I would not insist, in behalf of the King, on the right of dissolv-
ing the chamber of representatives ; that I would claim ODly a suspensive veto for
the first chamber, and that I would not oppose a fundamental law for convoking na-
tional conventions at fixed epochs, or on the requisition of the assembly of the repre-
sentatives, or on that of the provinces, for the purpose of revising the constitution
and nnlun:: such changes in it as should be deemed necessary. By national conven-
tions they meant assemblies to which should be transferred all the rights of the nation,
which should combine all the powers, and would consequently have annihilated by
their mere presence the authority of the sovereign and of the ordinary legislature ;
which should have the power to dispose arbitrarily of all sorts of authorities, to over-
throw the constitution at their pleasure, and to re-establish despotism or anarchy.
Lastly, they desired in some measure to leave to a single assembly, which was to be
called the national convention, the supreme dictatorship, and to expose the nation to
a periodical recurrence of factions and tumult
vol. i. — 12 4
90 HISTORY OF THE
These questions divided the people as well as the representatives,
and if they did not comprehend them, they attacked or defended
them with not the less warmth. They summed them all up in the
short and expeditious term veto. They approved or disapproved the
veto, and this signified that they wished or did not wish for tyranny.
The populace, without even understanding this, took the veto lor ;i tax
which ought to be abolished, or an enemy that ought to he hung, and
were eager to consign him to the lamp-post.*
The Palais Royal, in particular, was in the greatest fermentation.
Men of ardent minds assembled there, who, spurning even the forms
imposed in the districts, mounted a chair, began their uncalled-for ha-
rangues, and were hissed or borne in triumph by an immense crowd,
which hastened to execute what they proposed. There, Camille Des- '
moulins, already mentioned in this history, distinguished himself by
the energy, originality, and cynical turn of his mind ; and, without be-
ing cruel himself, he demanded cruelties. There, too, was seen St.
Hurugue, an ancient marquis, long imprisoned in the Bastille on ac-
count of family quarrels, and incensed to madness against the supreme
authority. There it was every day repeated, that they ought all to go
to Versailles, to call the King and the Assembly to account for their
hesitation to secure the welfare of the people. Lafayette had the
greatest difficulty to keep them within bounds by continual patroles.
The national guard was already accused of aristocracy. " There
was no patrol at the Ceramicus," observed Desmoulins. The name
of Cromwell had already been pronounced along with that of Lafay-
ette. One day, it was Sunday, the 30th of August, a motion was
made at the Palais Royal; Mounierwas accused, Mirabeau represent-
ed to be in danger, and it was proposed to proceed to Versailles, to
ensure the personal safety of the latter. Mirabeau, nevertheless, de-
fended the sanction, but without relinquishing his office as a popular
tribune, and without appearing less such in the eyes of the multitude.
St. Hurugue, followed by a few hot-headed persons, took the road to
Versailles. They intended, they said, to prevail upon the Assembly
to expel its unfaithful representatives, that others might be elected,
and to entreat the King and the Dauphin to remove to Paris, and to
place themselves in safety amidst the people. Lafayette hastened af-
ter them, stopped them, and obliged them to turn back. On the fol-
lowing day, Monday, the 31st, they again met. They drew up an ad-
dress to the commune, in which they demanded the convocation of the
" I expressed my surprise that they should wish to engage me in a negotiation
concerning the interests of the kingdom, as if we were its absolute masters. I oh
served that, in leaving only the suspensive veto to a first chamber, if it were com-
posed of eligible members, it would be found difficult to form it of persons worthy
of the public confidence ; in this case all the citizens would prefer being elected re-
presentatives ; and that the chamber, being the judge of state offences, ought to pos-
sess a very great dignity, and consequently that its authority ought not to be less
than that of the other chamber. Lastly, I added that, when I believed a principle*to
be true, I felt bound to defend it, and that I could not barter it away, since truth be-
longed to all citizens."
* Two countrymen were talking of the veto. " Dost thou know," said one of
them, ■ what the veto is?" — " No, not I." — " Well then, thou hast thy basin full of
suup : the King says to thee, ' Spill thy soup,' and thou art forced to spill it."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 91
districts, in order to conderiti the veto, to censure the deputies who
supported it, to cashier them, and to nominate others in their stead.
The commune repulsed them twice with the greatest firmness.
Agitation meanwhile pervaded the Assembly. Letters full of thrents
and invectives had been sent to the principal deputies ; one of these
was signed with the name of St. Hurugue. On Monday, the 31st, at
the opening of the sitting, Lally denounced a deputation which he
had received from the Palais Royal. This deputation had exhorted
him to separate himself from the bad citizens who defended the veto,
and added, that an army of twenty thousand men was ready to march.
Mounicr also read letters which he had received, proposed that search
should be made for the secret authors of these machinations, and
urged the Assembly to offer five hundred thousand francs to any one
who should denounce them. The discussion was tumultuous. Du-
port maintained that it was beneath the dignity of the Assembly to di-
rect its attention to such matters. Mirabeau, too, read letters address-
ed to him, in which the enemies of the popular cause treated him no
better than they had treated Mounier. The Assembly passed to the
order of the day, and St. Hurugue, having signed one of the denounced
letters, was imprisoned by order of the commune.
The three questions, concerning the permanence of the assemblies,
the two chambers, and the veto, were discussed at once. The perma-
nence of the Assembly was voted almost unanimously. The people
had suffered too much from the long interruption of the national as-
semblies, not to render them permanent. The great question of the
unity of the legislative body was then taken up. The tribunes were
occupied by a numerous and noisy multitude. Many of the deputies
withdrew. The president, then the bishop of Langres, strove in vain
to stop them ; they went away in great numbers. Loud cries from all
quarters required that the question should be put to the vote. Lally
claimed permission to speak again ; it was refused, and the president
•cused of having sent him to the tribune. One member even
went so far as to ask the president if he was not tired of annoying the
Assembly. Offended at this expression, the president left the chair,
and the discussion was again adjourned. On the following day, the
10th of September, an address was read from the city of Rennes, de-
claring the veto to be inadmissible, and those who should vote for it
traitors to the country. Mounier and his partisans were exasperated,
and proposed to reprove the municipality. Mirabeau replied, that it
was not the province of the Assembly to lecture municipal officers,
and that it would be right to pass to the order of the day. This ques-
tion of the two chambers was finally put to the vote, and the unity of
the Assembly was decreed amidst tumultuous applause. Four hun-
dred and ninety-eight votes were in favour of one chamber, ninety-
nine in favour of two, and one hundred and twenty-two votes were
lost owing to the apprehensions excited in many of the deputies.
The question of the veto at length came on. A middle term had
been found in the suspensive veto, which should suspend the law, but
only for a time, during one or more sessions. This was considered as
an appeal to the people, because the King, recurring to new assem
92 HISTORY OF THE
blies, and yielding to them if they persi^ed, seemed in reality to ap-
peal from them to the national authority. Mounier and his party op-
posed this : they were right with reference to the system of the En-
glish monarchy, where the king consults the national representation,
and never obeys it ; but they were wrong in the situation in which
they were placed. Their only object had been, they said, to prevent
a too hasty resolution. Now the suspensive veto produced this effect
quite as effectually as the absolute veto. If the representation should
persist, the national will would be made manifest, and whilst admitting
its sovereignty, it was ridiculous to resist it indefinitely.
The ministry actually felt that the suspensive veto produced mate-
rially the effect of the absolute veto, and Necker advised the King to
secure to himself the advantages of a voluntary sacrifice, by address-
ing a memorial to the Assembly, desiring the suspensive veto. A ru-
mour of this got abroad, and the object and spirit of the memorial
were known beforehand. It was presented on the 1 1th ; every body
was acquainted with its purport. It would appear that Mounier, sup-
porting the interests of the throne, ought not to have had any other
views than the throne itself: but parties very soon have an interest
distinct from those whom they serve. Mounier was for rejecting this
communication, alleging that, if the King renounced a prerogative
beneficial to the nation, it ought to be given to him in spite of himself,
and for the public interest. The parts were now reversed, and the
adversaries of the King maintained on this occasion his right of in-
terference. Fresh explanations were entered into respecting the word
sanction : the question, whether it should be necessary for the consti-
tution, was discussed. After specifying that the constituting power
was superior to the constituted powers, it was determined that the
sanction could be exercised only upon legislative acts, but by no
means upon constitutive acts, and that the latter should only be pro-
mulgated. Six hundred and seventy-three votes were in favour of the
suspensive veto, three hundred and fifty-five for the absolute veto. Thus
the fundamental articles of the new constitution were determined
upon. Mounier and Lally-Tollendal immediately resigned their pla-
ces as members of the committee of constitution.
Up to this time, a great number of decrees had been passed, with-
out being submitted to the royal acceptance. It was resolved to pre-
sent to the King the articles of the fourth of August. The question
to be decided was, whether they should apply for the sanction or the
mere promulgation, considering them as legislative or constitutive
acts. Maury and even Lally-Tollendal were indiscreet enough to
maintain that they were legislative, and to require the sanction, as if
they had expected some obstacle from the royal power. Miraboau,
with rare justice, asserted that some abolished the feudal system, and
were eminently constitutive ; that others were apure munificence on the
part of the nobility and clergy, and that, undoubtedly, the clergy and
the nobility did not wish the King to revoke their liberality. Chape-
lier added, that there was not even any occasion to suppose the con-
sent of the King to be necessary, as he had already approved them by
accepting the title of restorer of French liberty, and attending the Te
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 93
Deum. The King was in consequence solicited to make n mere pro-
mulgntion.
A member all at once proposed the hereditary transmission of the
crown and the inviolability of the royal person. The Assembly,
which sincerely wished for the King as its hereditary first magistrate,
voted these two articles by acclamation. The inviolability of the heir
iptire was proposed ; but the Duke de Mortemart instantly re-
<1 that sons had sometimes endeavoured to dethrone their fathers,
and that they ought to reserve to themselves the means of punishing
them. On this ground the proposal was rejected. With respect to
tii i article on the hereditary descent from male to male and from branch
to branch, Arnoult proposed to confirm the renunciations of the Span-
ish branch made in the treaty of Utrecht. It was urged that there
\vm< bo occasion to discuss this point, because they ought not to alien-
ate a faithful ally. Mirabeau supported this opinion, and the Assem-
-sed to the order of the day. All at once Mirabeau, for the pur-
pose of making an experiment that was ill-judged, attempted to bring
forward the very question which he had himself contributed to silence.
The house of Orleans would become a competitor with the Spanish
house, in case of the extinction of the reigning branch. Mirabeau
had observed an extraordinary eagerness to pass to the order of the
day. A stranger to the Duke of Orleans, though familiar with him,
as he could be with every body, he nevertheless wished to ascertain
the state of parties, and to discover who were the friends and the ene-
pUM of the duke. The question of a regency came forward. In case
of minority, the King's brothers could not be guardians of their nephew,
as heirs to the royal ward, and not being interested in his preservation.
The regency, therefore, would belong to the nearest relative ; this was
either the Queen, or the Duke of Orleans, or the Spanish family.
Mirabeau then proposed that the regency should not be given to any
but a man born in France. " My acquaintance," said he, " with the
iphy of the Assembly, the point whence proceeded those cries
for the order of the day, prove to me that the question here is nothing
tan that of a foreign domination, and that the proposition not to
deliberate, apparently Spanish, is perhaps an Austrian proposition."
Loud cries succeeded these words ; the discussion recommenced
with extraordinary violence ; all the opposers again called for the or-
der of the day. To no purpose did Mirabeau every moment repeat
that they could have but one motive, that of bringing a foreign domi-
nation into France ; they made no reply, because, in fact, they would
have preferred a foreigner to the Duke of Orleans. At length, after a
debate of two days, it was again decided that there was no occasion
to deliberate. But Mirabeau had attained his object, in making the
parties declare themselves. This experiment could not fail to draw
down accusations upon him, and he passed thenceforward for an agent
of the Orleans party.*
* The particulars of Mirabeau's conduct towards all the parties are not yet tho-
rongbhr known, butthey are soon likely to be. I have obtained positive information
from the very persona who intend to publish them : 1 have had in my haml>
important documents, and especially the paper written in the form of a profession of
94 HISTORY OF THE
While yet strongly agitated by this discussion, the Assembly recei-
ved the King's answer to the articles of the 4th of August. The Ring
approved of their spirit, but gave only a conditional adhesion to
some of them, in the hope that they would be modified on being
carried into execution : he renewed, with regard to most, the objec-
tions made in the discussion and set aside by the Assembly. Mira-
beau again appeared at the tribune. " We have not," said he,
" yet examined the superiority of the constituent power over the ex-
ecutive power : we have, in some measure, thrown a veil over these
questions [the Assembly had, in fact, explained for itself the manner in
which they were to be understood, without passing any resolution on
the subject] ; but, if our constituent power were to be contested, we
should be obliged to declare it. Let us act in this case frankly and
with good faith. We admit that there would be difficulties in the
execution, but we do not insist upon it. Thus we demand the abolition
of offices, but assign for the future a compensation, and a pledge for
faith, which constituted his secret treaty with the court. I am not allowed to give to
the public any of these documents, or to mention the names of the holders. I can
only affirm what the future will sufficiently demonstrate, when all these papers shall
have been published. What I am enabled to assert with sincerity is, that Mirabeau
never had any hand in the supposed plots of the Duke of Orleans. Mirabeau left
Provence with a single object, that of combating arbitrary power, by which he had
suffered, and which his reason as well as his sentiments taught him to consider as de-
testable. On his arrival in Paris, he frequented the house of a banker, at that time
well known, and a man of great merit. The company there conversed much on poli-
tics, finances, and political economy. There he picked up a good deal of information
on those matters, and he connected himself with what was called the exiled (i
vese colony, of which Clavieres, afterwards minister of the finances, was a member.
Mirabeau, however, formed no intimate connexion. In his manners there was a
great familiarity, which originated in a feeling of his strength — a feeling that he fre-
quently carried to imprudence. Owing to this familiarity, he accosted every body,
and seemed to be on the best terms with all whom he addressed. Hence it was, iliat
he was frequently supposed to be the friend and accomplice of many persons with
whom he had no common interest I have said, and I repeat it, he had no party.
The aristocracy could not think of Mirabeau; the party of Necker and Mounter
could not comprehend him ; the Duke of Orleans alone appeared to unite with him.
He was believed to do so, because Mirabeau treated the duke in a familiar manner,
and, both being supposed to possess great ambition, the one as prince, the other as
tribune, it appeared but natural that they should be connected. Mirabeau's dis-
tress, and the wealth of the Duke of Orleans, seemed also to be a reciprocal motive of
alliance. Nevertheless, Mirabeau remained poor till his connexion with the court.
He then watched all the parties, strove to make them explain themselves, and waa
too sensible of his own importance to pledge himself lightly. Once only there was
a commencement of intercourse between him and one of the supposed agents of
the Duke of Orleans. By this reputed agent he was invited to dinner, and he, who
was never afraid to venture himself, accepted the invitation, more from curiosity than
any other motive. Before he went, he communicated the circumstance to his intimate
confidant, and seemed much pleased at the prospect of this interview, which led him
to hope for important revelations. The dinner took place, and Mirabeau, on his
return, related what had passed : there had been only some vague conversation con-
cerning the Duke of Orleans, the esteem in which he held the talents of Mirabeau. and
the fitness which he supposed him to possess for governing a state. This interview,
therefore, was absolutely insignificant, and it seems to indicate at most a disposition
t<> make Mirabeau a minister. Accordingly, he did not fail to observe to his friend,
with his usual gayety, " I am quite sure to be minister, since both the King and
the Duke of Orleans are equally desirous to appoint me." This was but a joke :
Mirabeau himself never put any faith in the projects of the duke. I shall explain
some other particulars in a succeeding note.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 05
the compensation ; we declare the impost which supplies the salaries
of the clergy destructive of agriculture, but, till a substitute is provided,
we direct the collection of tithes ; we abolish seignorial courts, but
allow them to exist till other tribunals are established. The same
is the case with other articles : all of them involve only such prin-
ciples as it is necessary to render irrevocable by promulgating them.
Let us ingenuously repeat to the King, what the fool of Philip II. said
to that most absolute prince : ' What would become of thee, Philip, if
all the world were to say yes, when thou sayest no V "
The Assembly again directed the president to wait upon the King
to solicit of him his promulgation. The King granted it. The As-
sembly, on its part, deliberating on the duration of the suspensive veto,
extended it to two sessions. But it was wrong to let it be seen that
this was, in some sort, a recompense given to Louis XVI. for the con-
cessions that he had just made to the public opinion.
AVliile the Assembly pursued its course amidst obstacles raised by
the ill-will of the privileged orders and by the popular commotions,
other embarrassments thronged to meet it, and its enemies exulted
over them. They hoped that it would be stopped short by the wretched
state of the finances, as the court itself had been. The first loan of thirty
millions had not succeeded ; a second of eighty, ordered agreeably to
a new plan of Necker, had not been attended with happier results.
" Go on discussing," said M. Degouy d'Arcy one day, " throw in de-
lays, and at the expiration of those delays we shall no longer be ... .
. . . I have just heard fearful truths." — "Order! order !" exclaimed
some. " No, no, speak ;" rejoined others. A deputy rose. " Pro-
ceed," said he to M. Degouy ; " spread around alarm and terror.
What will be the consequence ? We shall give part of our fortune,
and all will be over." M. Degouy continued : " The loans which you
have voted have produced nothing; there are not ten millions in the ex-
chequer." At these words, he was again surrounded, censured, and re-
duced to silence. The Duke d'Aiguillon, president of the committee
of the finances, contradicted bun, and proved that there must be twenty-
two millions in the coffers of the state. It was, nevertheless, resolved that
Fridays and Saturdays should be specially devoted to the finances.
Necker at length arrived. Ill with his incessant efforts, he renewed
his everlasting complaints : he reproached the Assembly with having
done nothing for the finances after a session of five months. The two
loans had failed, because disturbances had destroyed public credit.
Large sums of money were concealed ; the capital of foreigners had
been withheld from the proposed loans. Emigration and absence of
travellers had also served to decrease the circulating medium, so that
there was actually not enough left for the daily wants. The King and
the Queen had been obliged to send thier plate to the mint. Necker,
in consequence, demanded an instalment of one fourth of the revenue,
declaring that these means appeared to him to be sufficient. A com-
mittee took three days to examine this plan and entirely approved of it.
Mirabeau, a known enemy to the minister, was the first to speak, for
the purpose of exhorting the Assembly to agree to this plan without dis
cussion. " Not having time," said he, to investigate it, the Assem-
96 HISTORY OF THE
bly ought not to take typon itself the responsibility of the event, by
approving or disapproving the proposed expedients." On this ground
he advised that it should be voted immediately and with confidence.
The Assembly, hurried away by his arguments, adopted this proposal,
and directed Mirabeau to retire and draw up the decree. Meanwhile,
the enthusiasm began to subside ; the minister's enemies pretended to
discover resources where he could find none. His friends, on the con-
trary, attacked Mirabeau, and complained that he wanted to crush
him under the responsibility which events might throw upon him.
Mirabeau returned and read his decree. " You murder the minister's
plan," exclaimed M. de Virieu. Mirabeau, who was not in the habit
of receding without a reply, frankly avowed his motive, and admitted
that those had guessed it who alleged, that he wished to tbrow
on M. Necker alone the responsibility ; he said that he had not the
honour to be his friend, but that, were he his most affectionate friend,
he, a citizen above all things, would not hesitate to compromise him
rather than the Assembly ; that he did not believe the kingdom to be
in danger, though M. Necker should prove to be mistaken ; and that,
on the other hand, the public welfare would be deeply compromised, if
the Assembly had lost its credit and failed in a decisive operation.
He immediately proposed an address to rouse the national patriotism,
and to support the plan of the minister.
He was applauded, but the discussion was continued. A thousand
propositions were made, and time was wasted in vain subtleties.
Weary of so many contradictions, impressed with the urgency of the
public wants, he ascended the tribune for the last time, took possession
of it, again expounded the question with admirable precision, and
showed the impossibility of retreating from the necessity of the
moment. His imagination warming as he proceeded, he painted the
horrors of bankruptcy ; heexhibited it as a ruinous tax, which, instead
of pressing lightly upon all, falls only upon some, whom it crushes by
its weight; he then described it as a gulf into which living victims are
thrown, and which does not close again even after devouring them ;
for we owe none the less even after we have refused to pay. As he
concluded, he thrilled the Assembly with terror. " The other day,"
said he, " when a ridiculous motion was made at the Palais Royal,
some one exclaimed • Catiline is at the gates of Rome, and yon de-
liberate!' but most assuredly there was neither Catiline, nor danger,
nor Rome ; and to-day hideous bankruptcy is here, threatening to
consume you, your honour, your fortunes — and you deliberate !"
At these words, the transported Assembly rose with shouts of enthu-
siasm. A deputy prepared to reply ; he advanced, but, affrighted at
the task, he stood motionless and speechless. The Assembly then de
clared that, having heard the report of the committee, it adopted in
confidence the plan of the minister of the finances. This was a happy
stroke of eloquence; but he alone would be capable of it, who should
possess the reason as well as the passions of Mirabeau.
While the Assembly thus laid violent hands upon all parts of the
edifice, important events were arising. By the union of the orders, the
nation had recovered the legislative omnipotence. By the 14th of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 97
July it had taken arms iu support of its representatives. Thus the
King and the aristocracy remained separated and disarmed, with the
mere opinion of their rights iu which no one participated, and iu
presence of a nation ready to conceive every thing, and to execute
every thing. The court, however, secluded in a small town, peopled
entirely hy its servants was in some respect heyond the popular influ-
ence, and could even attempt a coup de main against the Assembly.
- natural that Paris, but a few leagues distant from Versailles —
Paris, the capital of the kingdom — should wish to draw the King back
to its bosom, in order to remove him from all aristocratic influence, and
to recover the advantages which a city derives from the presence of
the court and of the government. After curtailing the authority of
the King, all that it had left to do was to make sure of his person.
The course of events favoured this wish, and from all quarters was
heard the cry of" The King to Paris !" The aristocracy ceased to
think of defending itself against fresh losses. It felt too much dis-
dain for what was left it, to care about preserving that ; it was there-
fore desirous of a violent change, just like the popular party. A re-
volution is infallible, when two parties join in desiring it. Both con-
tribute to the event, and the stronger profits by the result. While the
patriots wished to bring the King to Paris, the court had it in con-
templation to carry him to Metz. There, in a fortress, it might order
all that it pleased, or to speak more correctly, all that others should
please for it. The courtiers formed plans, circulated projects, strove
to enlist partisans ; and, indulging vain hopes, betrayed themselves
by imprudent threats. D'Estaing, formerly so renowned at the head
of our fleets, commanded the national guard of Versailles. He de-
sired to be faithful both to the nation and to the court ; a difficult
part, which is always exposed to calumny, and which great firmness
alone can render honourable. He learned the machinations of the
courtiers. The highest personages were involved in them ; witnesses
most worthy of belief had been mentioned to him, and he addressed
to the Queen his celebrated letter, in which he expatiated with re-
spectful firmness on the impropriety and danger of such intrigues.
He disguised nothing, and mentioned every person by name.* The
* The letter of Count d'F.sta'mg to tlie Queen is a curious document, which must
ever continue to be consulted relative to the events of the 5th and 6th of October.
This brave officer, full of loyalty and independence, (two qualities which appear con-
tradictory, but which are frequently found combined in seamen,) had retained the
habit of paying all he thought to the princes to whom he was attached. His testi-
mony cannot be called in question, when in a confidential letter to the Queen he
lays open the intrigues which he has discovered, and which have alarmed him. It
will be seen whether the court was actually without plan at that period :
" It is nocessary — my duty and my loyalty rpquire it — that I should lay at the feet
of the Queen the account of the visit which I have paid to Paris. I am praised for
sleeping soundly the night before an assault or a naval engagement. I venture to
assert that I am not timorous in civil matters. Brought up about the person of the
dauphin who distinguished me, accustomed from my childhood to speak the truth at
Versailles, a soldier and a seaman, acquainted with forms, I respect without permit-
ting tli'-ni to affect either my frankness or my firmness.
•• Will the n, I must confess to your majesty that I did not close my eyes all night.
I was told, in good society, in good company — and, gracious Heaven! what would
VOL. I. 13
r
98 HISTORY OF THE
letter had no effect. In venturing upon such enterprises, the Queen must
have expected remonstrances, and could not have been surprised at tlu'in.
About the same period, a great number of new faces appeared at
Versailles ; nay, even strange uniforms were seen there. The com-
pany of the life-guard, whose term of duty had just expired, was
retained; some dragoons and chasseurs of the Trois-Ev6ch6s were
sent for. The French guards, who had quitted the King's duty, irrita-
ted at its being assigned to others, talked of going to Versailles to re-
sume it. Assuredly they had no reason whatever to complain, since
they had of themselves relinquished that duty. But they were insti-
gated, it is said, to this purpose. It was asserted at the time that the
court wished by this contrivance to alarm the King, and to prevail on
him to remove to Metz. One fact affords sufficient proof of this in-
tention : ever since the commotions at the Palais Royal, Lafayette had
placed a post at Sevres, to defend the passage between Paris and Ver-
be tli3 consequence if this were to be circulated among the people 7 — I was repeat-
edly told that signatures were being collected among the clergy and the nobility.
Some assert that this is done with the approbation of the King, others beheve that it
is without his knowledge. It is affirmed that a plan is formed, that it is by Cham-
pagne or Verdun that the King is to retire or to be carried off; that he is going to
Metz. M. de Bouille is named, and by whom ? — By M. de Lafayette, who told me
so in a whisper at dinner, at M. Jauge's. I trembled lest a single domestic should
overhear him : I observed to him, that a word from his lips might become the signal
of death. He replied that at Metz, as every where else, the patriots were the
stronger party, and that it was better that one should die for the welfare of all.
" The Baron de Breteuil, who delays his departure, conducts the plan. Money is
taken up at usurious interest, and promises are made to furnish a million and a half
per month The Count de Mercy is unfortunately mentioned as acting in concert.
Such are the rumours; if they spread to the people, their effects are incalculable:
they are still but whispered about. Upright minds have appeared to me to he alarmed
for the consequences : the mere doubt of the reality is liable to produce terrible
results. I have been to the Spanish ambassador's — and most certainly I shall not
conceal it from the Queen — there my apprehensions were aggravated. M. I'ernand
Nunez conversed with me on the subject of these false reports, and how horrible it
was to suppose an impossible plan, which Would produce the most disastrous and the
most humiliating of civil wars ; which would cause the partition or the total ruin of
the monarchy, that must fall a prey to domestic rage and foreign ambition ; and which
would bring irreparable calamities on the persons most dear to France. AAer speak-
ing of the court wandering, pursued, and deceived by those who have not supported
it when they could, who now wish to involve it in their fall . . . afflicted by I
general bankruptcy, then become indispensable, and most frightful . . . I ob-
nerved that at least there would be no other mischief than what tins false report would
produce, if it were to spread, because it was an idea without any foundation. Tfca
Spanish ambassador cast down his eyes at this last expression. I became urgent :
he then admitted that a person of distinction and veracity had told him that he bad
been solicited to sign an association. He refused to name hint ; but. cither from inat-
tention, or for the good of the cause, he luckily did not require my word of honour.
which I must have kept. I have not promised not to divulge this circumstance to
any one. It fills me with such terror as I have never yet known. It is not for my-
self that I feel it. I implore the Queen to calculate, in her wisdom, all that might
result from one false step: the first costs dearcnough. I have seen the kind heart <>t
the Queen bestow tears on the fate of immolated victims: uow it would be streams
of blood spilt to no purpose, that she would have to regret. A mere indecision maj
be without remedy. It is only by breasting the torrent, not by humouring it, that one
can succeed in partly directing it. Nothing is lost The Queen can conquer lln-
kingdom for the King. Nature has lavished' upon her the means of doing it; they
alone are practicable. She may imitate her august mother: if not. I am. silent. . .
. . . I implore your majesty to grant me an audieuce some day tins week."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 99
sailles. Lafayette found means to stop the French guards, and to di-
vert them from their purpose. He wrote confidentially to St. Priest,
the minister, to inform him of what had passed, and to allay all appre-
hensions. St. Priest, abusing the confidence of Lafayette, showed the
letter to D'Estaing, who communicated it to the officers of the national
■Mid of Versailles and the municipality, in order to apprize them of
the dangers which threatened and might still threaten that town. It
was proposed to send for the Flanders regiment ; a great number of
battalions of the Versailles guard were adverse to this measure ; the
municipality nevertheless presented its requisition, and the regiment
was sent for. One regiment against the Assembly was no great matter,
but it would be enough to carry off the King, and to protect his flight.
D'Estaing informed the National Assembly of the measures that had
been adopted, and obtained its approbation. The regiment arrived :
the military train that followed it, though inconsiderable, did not fail to
excite murmurs. The life-guards and the courtiers sought the society
of the officers, loaded them with attentions, and they appeared, as pre-
viously to the 14th of July, to coalesce, to harmonize, and to conceive
great hopes.
The confidence of the court increased the distrust of Paris ; and
entertainments soon exasperated the sufferings of the populace. On
the 2d of October, the life-guards gave a dinner to the officers of the
garrison. It was held in the theatre. The boxes were filled with
spectators belonging to the court. The officers of the national guard
were among the guests. Much gaiety prevailed during the repast, and
the wine soon raised it to exaltation. The soldiers of the regiments
were then introduced. The company, with drawn swords, drank the
health of the royal family ; the toast of the nation was refused — or,
at least, omitted ; the trumpets sounded a charge ; the boxes were
scaled with loud shouts : the expressive and celebrated song, " O
Richard ! 6 mon roi ! Tunivers t'abandonne," was sung ; they vowed
to die for the King, as if he had been in the most imminent danger :
in short, the delirium had no bounds. Cockades, white or black, but
all of a single colour, were distributed. The young women, as well as
the young men, were animated with chivalrous recollections. At this
moment, it is said, the national cockade was trodden under foot. This
fact has since been denied ; but does not wine render every thing cre-
dible— every thing excusable? Besides, of what use were these meet-
ings, which produce on the one side but an illusory zeal, and excite
on the other a real and terrible irritation 1 At this juncture some
one ran to the Queen ; she consented to come to the entertainment.
A number of persons surrounded the King, who was just returning
from hunting, and he too was drawn thither : the company threw
themselves at the feet of both, and escorted them, as in triumph, to
their apartments. It is soothing, no doubt, to those who regard them-
selves as stripped of their authority and threatened, to meet with
friends ; but why should they thus deceive themselves in regard to
their rights, their strength, or their means ?*
* " Such was this famous banquet which the court had the imprudence to renew on
the 3d of October. We cannot but deplore its fatal want of foresight; it knew neither
100 HISTORY OF THE
The report of this entertainment soon spread, and no doubt the
popular imagination, in relating the circumstances, added its own ex-
aggerations to those which the event itself had produced. The pro-
mises made to the King were construed as threats held out to the na-
tion ; this prodigality was considered as an insult to the public dis-
tress, and the shout* of " l}o Versailles !" were renewed with more
vehemence than ever. Thus\petty causes concurred to strengthen the
effect of general causes. Young men appeared in Paris with black
cockades ; they were pursued : one of them was dragged away by the
people, and the commune was obliged to prohibit cockades of a single
colour.
The day after this unfortunate dinner, a nearly similar scene took
place at a breakfast given by the life-guards. The company presented
themselves, as on the former occasion, before the Queen, who said
that she had been quite delighted with the dinner of Thursday. She
was eagerly listened to ; because, less reserved than the King, the
avowal of the sentiments of the court was expected from her lips.
Every word she uttered was repeated. Irritation was at its height,
and the most calamitous events might be anticipated. A commotion
was convenient to the people and to the court: to the people, in order
that they might seize the person of the King ; to the court, that terror
might drive him to Metz. It was also convenient to the Duke of Or-
leans, who hoped to obtain the lieutenancy of the kingdom, if the
King should withdraw ; nay, it has been said that this prince went so
far as to hope for the crown, which is scarcely credible, for he had
not a spirit. bold enough for so high an ambition. The advantages
which he had reasonto expect from this new insurrection, have brought
upon him the charge of having had a hand in it ; but this is unfound-
ed. He cannot have communicated the impulse, for it resulted from
the force of circumstances: he appeared at most to have seconded it ;
and even on this point, an immense body of evidence, and time, which
explains every thing, have brought to light no trace of a concerted
plan. No doubt, on this occasion, as during the whole revolution, the
Duke of Orleans was merely following in the train of the popular
movement, scattering, perhaps, a little money, giving rise to rumour?,
and having himself but vague hopes.
The populace, agitated by the discussions on the veto, irritated by
the black cockades, annoyed by the continual patroles, and suffering
from hunger, was in commotion. Bailly and Necker had neglected
no means of procuring an abundant supply of provisions ; but, either
from the difficulty of conveyance, or the pillage which took place by
the way, and, above all, by the impossibility of making amends for
the spontaneous movement of commerce, there was still a scarcity of
how to submit to its destiny, nor how to change it. The assembling of a military
force, far from preventing tin' vggrewion of Paris, provoked it. The huujuet did
not render the devotedri! -- "t" '!> soldiers more certain, while it increased t!
feciion of tbe multitude. To guard itself, thor» wa« no necessity for so much ardour;
nor for flijrht, so much preparation; but the court never took the proper measure for
the success of its designs, or it took only half measures, an 1 del ijred its tin il ■ decision
till it was too late —Uig-net. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 101
flour. On the 4th of October, the agitation was greater than ever.
People talked of the departure of the King for Metz, and the necessi-
ty of going to fetch him from Versailles ; they kept an eager look-out
for black cockades, and vociferously demanded bread! Numerous
patroles succeeded in preventing tumult. The night passed off quietly.
In the morning of the following day crowds began again to assemble.
The women went to the baker's shops ; there was a want of bread,
and they ran to the square in which the Hdtel de Ville is situated, to
complain of it to the representatives of the commune. The latter had
not yet met, and a battalion of the national guard was drawn up in
the place of the H6tel de Ville. A number of men joined these wo-
men, but they refused their assistance, saying that men were unfit to
act. They then rushed upon the battalion, and drove it back by a
volley of stones. At this moment a door was forced open ; the wo-
men poured into the H6tel de Ville ; brigands, with pikes, hurried in
along with them, and would have set fire to the building. They were
kept back, but they succeeded in taking possession of the door leading
to the great bell, and sounded the tocsin. The fauxbourgs were in-
stantly in motion. A citizen named Maillard, one of those who hud
signalized themselves at the capture of the Bastille, consulted the of-
ficer commanding the battalion of the national guard upon the means
of clearing the H6tel de Ville of these furious women. The officer
durst not approve the expedient which he proposed ; it was to collect
them together, under the pretext.of going to Versailles, but without
leading them thither. Maillard, nevertheless, determined to adopt it,
took a drum, and soon drew them off after him. They were armed
with bludgeons, broomsticks, muskets, and cutlasses. With this sin-
gular army he proceeded along the quay, crossed the Louvre, was
forced, in spite of his teeth, to lead them along the Tuilleries, and ar-
rived at the Champs Elysees. Here he succeeded in disarming them,
by representing to them that it would be better to appear before the
Assembly as petitioners than as furies with weapons. They assented,
and Maillard was obliged to conduct them to Versailles, for it was now
iiaposssible to dissuade them from proceeding thither. To that point
all were at this moment directing their course. Some hordes set out,
dragging with them pieces of cannon; others surrounded the national
guard, which itself surrounded its commander, to prevail on him to go
to Versailles, the goal of all wishes.
Meanwhile the court remained tranquil, but the Assembly had re-
ceived a message from the King which occasioned much tumult. It
had presented for his acceptance the constitutional articles and the
declaration of rights. The answer was to be a mere simple accep-
tance, with a promise to promulgate. For the second time, the King,
without clearly explaining himself, addressed observations to the As-
sembly ; he signified his accession to the constitutional articles, with-
out however approving of them ; he found excellent maxims in the
declaration of rights, but they needed explanation ; in short, he said a
proper judgment could not be formed of the whole till the constitution
should be entirely completed. This was certainly a tenable opinion ;
it was held by many political writers, as well as the King, but was it
102 HISTORY OF THE
prudent to express it at this particular moment 1 No sooner was this
declaration read, than complaints arose. Robespierre* said that it was
* The following sketch of Robespierre, who, from the period of the banquet of the
2d of October, began to make his influence felt in the revolutionary clubs, is derived
from the Biograpfue Moderns : " Maximilien Isidore Robespierre was born in Arraa
in 1759. His father, a barrister in the superior council of Artois, having ruined
himself by his prodigality, left France long before the Revolution, established a
school for the French at Cologne, and went to England, and thence to America,
where he suffered his friends to remain ignorant of his existence. His mother,
whose name was Josepha Carreau, was the daughter of a brewer; she soon died,
leaving her son, then nine years of age, and a brother, who shared his fate. The
Bishop of Arras contributed to send Robespierre to the college of Louis le Grand,
where he got him admitted on the foundation. One ol the professors there, an ad-
mirer of the heroes of Rome, contributed greatly to develop the love of republican-
ism in him ; he surnamed him the Roman, and continually praised his vaunted love
of independence and equality. Assiduous and diligent, he went through his studies
with considerable credit, and gave promise of talent that he never realized. In ]77"i.
when Louis XVI. made his entry into Paris, he was chosen by his fellow students to
present to that prince the homage of their gratitude. The political troubles of 1788
heated his brain ; he was soon remarked in the revolutionary meetings in 1789 ; and
the tiers-etai of the' province of Artois appointed him one of their deputies to the
States-General. On his arrival at the Assembly he obtained very little influence there;
however, though the want of eloquence did not permit him to vie with the orators
who then shone in the tribune, he began to acquire great power over the populace.
For some time he paid court to Mirabeau, who despised him, yet he accompanied
him so assiduously in the streets and public squares, that he was at last surnamed
Mirabeau's ape. In 1790 he continued to gain power over the rabble, and frequently
spoke in the Assembly. On the King's departure for Varennes he was disconcerted;
but as soon as that prince had been arrested, his hopes of overturning the monarchy
increased, and he laboured hard to bring on the insurrections which took place in the
Champ de Mars. He had been for some time connected with .Marat tad Danton,
and by their help he exercised great authority over the Jacobins, and through them,
over the capital. He was in consequence denounced by the Girondists, who accused
him of aspiring to the dictatorship. He was one of the most strenuous advocates for
•the King's trial, and voted for his execution. After overthrowing the party of the
Gironde, he turned against his old allies, the Dantonists, whom hebrotight, together
with their chief leader, to the scaffold, from which time, till his fall, he reigned without
rivals. He restored the worship of the Supreme Being, which the atheist faction of
the Hebertists had succeeded in abolishing. After ruling France for some months with
a rod of iron, he was arrested, together with his partisans, by the Convention, in con-
sequence of having excited the fear and distrust of some of his colleagues CBillaud-
Varennes among the number). At the moment when lie saw that he was going to
be seized, he tried to destroy himself with a pistol shot, but he only shall. -red his
under-jaw. He was immediately led into the lobby of the meeting-hall, then shut
up in the Couciergerie, and executed on the 28th of July, 1794. As he was pro-
ceeding to execution, the prisoners obstructing the passage, the gaoler cried out,
'.Make way! make way! I say, for the incorruptible man!' — for Robespierre was
always vaunting his disinterestedness. He was carried in a cart placed between
Henriotand Couthou; the shops, the windows, the roofs, were tilled with spectators
as he passed along, and cries of joy accompanied him all the way. His head was
wrapped up in a bloody cloth, which support? d his under-jaw. so that his pale and
livid countenance was but half seen. The horsemen who escorted him showed him
to the spectators with the point of their sabres. The mob stopped him before the
house where he had lived ; some women danced before the court ; and one of them
cried out, ' Descend to hell, with the curses of all wives and of all mothers !' The
executioner, when about to put him to death, roughly tore the dressing otV Ins won ml ;
upon which he uttered a horrible cry ; his under-jaw separated from the other; the
blood spouted out ; and his head presented a most hideous spectacle. He died at the
age of thirty-five. The following epitaph was written for him : ' Passenger, lament
not his fate, for were he living, thou wouldst be dead.' Robespierre had not any of
those accomplishments or brilliant advantages which seems to commaud succeaf*
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
t
not for the King to criticise the Assembly, and Duport that this answer
aught to be countersigned by a responsible minister. Petion* took
Ho was hard and dry, without imagination and without courage ; neither could hi*
feeble constitution, his gloomy countenance, hid weak sight, and almost inaudible
voioo, prepossess or seduce the multitude ; and although, in public speaking, he hnd
by I0112 habit attained some degree of facility, he could never contend with ibe prin-
cipal orators of the Convention: but nature seemed to supply all the resouro-, in M
am denied him, by granting bim the art of profiting at the same time by the talent- of
others, and by the faults which they might commit. Strong in his integrity in pecu-
niary matters, he always took care to open the path of honours, and especially of
riches, to his rivals, that he might be furnished with additional means of ruining them,
when they became obnoxious to him. Of aJl the men whom the Revolution brought
into notice, none has left a name so generally abhorred as Robespierre." — E.
In the Memoir* of the Duchess d'Abrantes, the following highly characteristic anec-
dote of Robespierre is related. " When Madame de Provence quitted France, the
Countess Lamarliere could not accompany her, much as she wished to do so. But
she was a wife and a mother, and to these ties she was obliged to sacrifice the senti-
ments of gratitude which animated her heart. She remained in France to suffer
persecution and misery. She saw her husband arrested at the head of the troops he
commanded, cast into a dungeon, and conducted to the scaffold. She had the courage
to implore the mercy of him who never knew mercy; she threw herself at the feet
of Robespierre. IVIadame Lamarliere had then the look of a young woman: a com-
plexion of dazzling brilliancy, a profusion of fair hair, fine eyes and teeth, could not
*ail to render her exceedingly attractive. Her beauty was perhaps rather heightened
than diminished by her despair, when she threw herself at the feet of the dictator,
and with a faltering voice implored the pardon of the husband of her child. But the
axe was in the hand of the executioner, and amidst a nuptial festival, Robespierre pro-
nounced the sentence which made a widow and an orphan. It was on that very day,
that Robespierre gave away in marriage the daughter of a carpenter, named Duplay,
in whose house he lodged in the Rue St. Honore. This Duplay was president of
ilie jury on the Queen's trial. The Countess Lamarliere arrived before the hour
fixed for the marriage ceremony, and she was obliged to wait in the dining-room,
when the table was laid for the nuptial feast. Her feelings may easily be imagined !
There she waited, and was introduced to the carpenter's wife. After she was gone,
Robespierre merely said, ' That woman is very pretty — very pretty indeed,' accom-
panying the observation with some odious remarks." E.
\Ve subjoin the opinion entertained by Lucien Bonaparte, himself an ardent apos-
tle of liberty, respecting Robespierre: "The first months of 1793 beheld the Jacobins
redouble their atrocities ; and Robespierre, the most cruel hypocrite, and greatest
coward of them all, obtained unlimited power. Some ardent imaginations have not
hesitated to celebrate the praises of that man, and of his Couthon and St. Just: they
have even dared to insinuate that Robespierre was a patriotic victim, immolated by
various conspirators more guilty than himself. They have stated that he fell, because
He would not proceed in the path of crime. These assertions are contradicted by
facts. The revolutionary tribunal was nevermore active than during the last months
of the power of that merciless tribune. Then were struck with hasty blows all those
whom birth, fortune, or talents, distinguished from the crowd. In the month of
April, Malesherbes, one of the most virtuous of men, was dragged to the scaffold at
seventy-two years of age, in the same cart with his sister, his son-in-law, his daughter,
his grand-daughter, and the husbaud of that young woman ! Robespierre was then
at the height of his power. Because he afterwards decimated his accomplices, and
because he struck at Danton and his partisans, was he for that reason to be consi-
dered more excusable ? Blood cannot wash away blood ! And as for his festival of
the Supreme Being, what else was it but a contempt for the religion of all French-
men, and a denial of the gospel? Blood was not sufficient for the incorruptible '
He desired even to thrust his sacrilegious hands into the depths of our very con-
science." — Memoirs of the Prince of Canino. E.
* At this period Petion was one of the most influential men of the Revolution.
He was an advocate at Chartres, and had been deputed to the States-General by the
tiers-itat of the bailiwick in that city, and distinguished himself by a thorough zeal
for the revolutionary party. Endowed with a pleasing address and a disposition ever
104 HISTORY OF THE
occasion to refer to the dinner of the life-guards, and denounced the
imprecations uttered against the Assembly. Gregoire adverted to the
dearth, and inquired why a letter had been sent to a miller with a pro-
mise of two hundred livres a week if he would give up grinding. The
letter proved nothing, for any of the panics might have written it ;
still it excited great tumult, and M. de Monspey proposed that Petion
6hould sign its denunciation. Mirabeau, who had disapproved in the
tribune itself of the course adopted by Petion and (ircgoire, then
came forward to reply to M. de Monspey. " I have been the very
first," said he, " to disapprove of these impolitic denunciations ; but,
since they are insisted upon, I will myself denounce, and I will sign,
when it has been declared that there is nothing inviolable in France
but the King." Silence succeeded to this terrible apostrophe ; and
the Assembly returned to the consideration of the King's answer. It
was eleven in th^forenoon ; tidings of the movements in Paris arrived.
Mirabeau went up to Mounier, the president, who, recently elected in
spite of the Palais Royal, and threatened with a glorious fall, exhibited
enterprising, although weak in danger, he became, in spite of the mediocrity of his
talents, one of the prime movers in the Revolution. On the 5th of October, he de-
nounced the banquets of the body guards, and seconded -the designs of the faction of
Orleans, to which he was then entirely devoted. On the 8th, he proposed giving to
the King the title of ' King of the French by the consent of the Nation,' and sup-
pressing tiie form of ' by the Grace of God.' In the course of 1790, he supported
the revolutionary party with considerable zeal. On the 4th of December, the Na-
tional Assembly elected him their president. In June following, he was appointed
president of the Criminal Tribuual of Paris. When the Assembly was informed of
the departure of Louis XVI., he was one of the three commissioners appointed to go
to Varennes after this prince. At the end of September, the Duke of Orlfeans sent
him to England ; and on his return he obtained the situation of Mayor, of which he
took possession on the 18th of November. It is from this period that his real influ-
ence may be dated, as well as the outrages with which he did not cease to overwhelm
the King, sometimes by handbills, and sometimes through the means of insurrection*.
On the M of August, he formally demanded of the Assembly, in the name of the Com-
mune, the deposition of Louis. On the 10th, he took care to be confined at home
■by the insurgents under his orders, at the very time that his adherents were preparing
to attack the palace. It is doubtful whether Petion were privy to the massacres of
September, although Prudhomnie declares that the mayor, the ministers, &c. were
agreed. Being appointed Deputy of Eure et Loire to the Convention, he was the
first president of that assembly, which, at its first meeting on the 21st of Sep'
1792, decreed the abolition of royalty. From that time, until the death of Louis
XVI., Petion ascended the tribune almost every day to urge the monarch's execution;
and at this period he also laboured in the interests of the Duke of Orleans, to whose
party ho appeared very constantly attached. In November, however, a hatred which
was in the end fatal to him, began to break out between Petion and Robespierre,
although up to that time they had been called the two fingers of the band. In
January, 1793, he voted for the death of Louis XVI. ; and on the 25th of March he
was appointed a member of the first committee of public safety, and of general de-
fence. From the declanKious of General Miaczinski, who had asserted that Petion
was concerned in the projects of Dumouriez, occasion was taken — through the
means of Robespierre. Danton.and that party — to form a committee for examining
into his conduct. On the 2d of June, a decree of accusation was passed against
Petion, and on the 25th of July he was outlawed because he had succeeded in escap
ingfrom his own house. In 1794 he was found dead of hunger, or assassinated, and
half devoured by beasts, in a field in the department of Gironde. Petion is said to
have had an air of haughtiness, a fine face, and an affable look." — From the Bio*
graphic Noderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION- 10a
on this melancholy day unconquerable firmness.* Mirabeau approach-
ed hiin. " Paris," said lie, " is marching upon us ; would it be amiss
to go to the palace to tell the King to accept purely and simply ?" —
" Paris is marching !*' replied Mounier ; " so much the better ; let
them kill us all — yes, all ! the state will he a gainer by it." — "A very
pretty sentiment indeed !" rejoined Mirabeau, and he returned to his
seat. The discussion continued till three o'clock, and it was decided
that the president should go to the Ring to demand his bare and sim-
ple acceptance. At the moment when Mounier was setting out for the
palace, a deputation was announced : it was Maillard and the women
who had followed him. Maillard desired to be admitted and hedrd.
He was introduced ; the women rushed in after him, and penetrated
into the hall. He then represented what had happened, the scarcity
of bread, and the distress of the people. He mentioned the letter ad-
dressed to the miller, and said that a person whom they met by the
way had told them that a clergyman was charged to denounce it.
This clergyman was Gregoire, and, as we have just seen, it had actu-
ally been denounced by him. A voice then accused Juign6, bishop of
Paris, of being the writer of the letter. Cries of indignation arose to
repel the imputation cast on the virtuous prelate. Maillard and his
deputation were called to order. He was told that means had been
adopted to supply Paris with provisions ; that the King had neglected
nothing ; that the Assembly was going to petition him to take fresh
measures ; that he and his followers must retire ; and that disturb-
ance was not the way to put an end to the dearth. Mounier then re-
tired to proceed to the palace ; but the women surrounded and insisted
on accompanying him. He at first declined, but was obliged to allow
six to go with him. He passed through the mob which had come from
Paris, and which was armed with pikes, hatchets, and sticks pointed
with iron. A heavy rain was falling. A detachment of the life-guards
fell upon the crowd which surrounded the president and dispersed it ;
hut the women soon overtook Mounier, and he reached the palace,
where the Flanders regiment, the dragoons, the Swiss, and the nation-
al militia of Versailles, were drawn up in order of battle. Instead of
six women, he was obliged to introduce twelve. The King received
them graciously, and deplored their distress. They were affected.
One of them, young and handsome, overawed at the sight of the mo-
*" Mounier was a man of strong judgment and inflexible character, who consi-
dered the system of the English constitution as the type of representative govern-
ments, and wished to effect the Revolution by accommodation. He, and those who
thought with him, were called the Monarchists. They desired, besides a chamber of
of representatives, to have a senate whose members should bo nominated by the
Kin? on the presentation of the people. They thought that this was the only means
of preventing the tyranny of a single assembly. The majority of the Assembly
would Inve wished, not a peerage, but an aristocratic assembly, of which it should
nominate the members, 'lhey could not then be heard, Mounter's party refusing to
co-operate in a project which would have revived the orders, and the aristocrats
rejecting a senate which would have confirmed the ruin of the noblesse. The
greater number ol the deputies of the clergy and of the commons advocated the
unity of the Assembly. Thus the nobility from discontent, and the national party
front the spirit of absolute justice, concurred in rejecting the high chamber." — Mig-
net. E.
vol. ,i — 14. 3
106 HISTORY OF THE
narch, could scarcely give utterance to the word Bread! The King,
deeply moved, embraced her, and the women returned softened by this
reception. Their companions received them at the gate of the palace ;
they would not believe their report, declared that they had suffered
themselves to be tampered with, and prepared to tear them in pieces.
The life-guards, commanded by the Count de Guiche, hastened to re-
lease them ; musket-shots were fired from various quarters ; two of
the guards fell, and several of the women were wounded. Not far
from the spot, one of the mob, at the head of a party of women,
forced his wuy through the ranks of the battalions and advanced to the
iron gate of the palace. M. de Savonnieres pursued him, but he re-
ceived a ball which broke his arm. These skirmishes produced the
greatest irritation on both sides. The King, apprized of the dan.
sent orders to his guards not to fire, and to retire to their hotel. While
they were retiring, a few shots were exchanged between them and the
national guard of Versailles, and it never could be ascertained from
which side the first were fired.
Meanwhile the King was holding a council, and Mounier impatient-
ly awaited his answer. He sent word repeatedly that his functions
required his presence with the Assembly, that the news of the sanc-
tion would pacify all minds, that he would retire if an answer were
not brought, for he would not longer absent himself from the post to
which his duties called him. The question discussed in the council
was, whether the King should leave Versailles. The council lasted
from six till ten at night, and the King, it is said, was against leaving
the place vacant for the Duke of Orleans. An attempt was made to
send off the Queen and the children, but the crowd stopped the carriages
the moment they appeared ; and, besides, the Queen was firmly re-
solved not to leave her husband. At length, about ten o'clock,
Mounier received the bare and simple acceptance, and returned to the
Assembly. The deputies had retired, and the women occupied the
hall. He communicated to them the King's acceptance, with which
they were highly pleased ; and they inquired if they should be the
better for it, and especially if they should have bread. Mounier gave
them the most favourable answer that he could, and directed all the
bread that could be procured to be distributed among them. In the
"<>iirse of this night, the faults of which it is so difficult to charge
to the right account, the municipality committed the blunder of ne-
■:ing to provide for the wants of this famished mob, winch had left
Paris owing to the want of bread, and which could not since have
found any on the way.
At this moment,, intelligence was received of the arrival of Lafay-
ette. For eight hours he had been opposing the national militia of
Paris, who were for proceeding to Versailles. " General," said one of
his grenadiers to him, " you do not deceive us, but you deceive your
self. Instead of turning our arms against women, let us go to Ver-
sailles to fetch the King, and make sure of his good disposition 1»\
placing him in the midst of us." Lafayette had hitherto withstood
the solicitations of his army and the inundation of the mob. His
soldiers were not attached to him by victory, but by opinion ; and,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 107
abandoned by their opinion, he could no longer control them. He
nevertheless contrived to stop them till night ; but his voice reached
only to a small distance, and beyond l^iat, nothing could appease the
fury of the multitude. His life had several times been threatened, and
still he resisted; He knew, nevertheless, that hordes were continually
lefttiag Paris, and, as the insurrection was transferring itself to Ver-
sailles, it became his duty to follow it thither. The commune directed
him to go, and at last he set out. By the way, he halted his army,
made it swear to be faithful to the King, and arrived at Versailles
about midnight. He sent word to Mounier that the army had
promised to do its duty, and that nothing should be done contrary
to the law. He hastened to the palace : with every demonstration
of respect and sorrow, he informed the King of the precautions which
had been taken, and assured him of his attachment and that of his
army. The King appeared tranquillized, and retired to rest. The
guard of the palace had been refused to Lafayette, and the outposts
alone had been granted to him. The other posts were destined for
the Flanders regiment, whose dispositions could not be implicitly re-
lied on, for the Swiss, and for the life-guards. These latter had at first
been ordered to retire ; they had afterwards been recalled, and, being
unable to assemble, there was but a small number of them at their
post. Amidst the tumult which prevailed, all the accessible parts had
not been defended : an iron gate had even been left open. Lafayette
caused the outer posts intrusted to him to be occupied, and none of
them was forced or even attacked.
The Assembly, notwithstanding the uproar, had resumed its sitting,
and was engaged, with the most imposing attitude, in a discussion on
the penal laws. Mirabeau, wearied out, exclaimed aloud that the As-
sembly had not to receive the law from any one, and that it should di-
rect the tribunes to be cleared. The people vehemently applauded
his apostrophe ; but the Assembly deemed it prudent not to make any
more resistance. Lafayette having sent word to Mounier that all ap-
peared to him to be quiet, and that he might dismiss the deputies, the
Assembly adjourned till eleven the following day, and broke up.
The crowd had dispersed itself here and there, and appeared to be
pacified. Lafayette had reason to feel confidence, as well from the
attachment of his army, which in fact did not belie his good opinion,
as from the tranquillity which seemed every where to prevail. He had
secured the hotel of the life-guards, and sent out numerous patroles.
At five in the morning he was still up. Conceiving that all was then
quiet, he took some refreshment, and threw himself upon a bed, to
obtain a little rest, of which he had been deprived for the last twenty-
lour hours.*
* History cannot bestow too much space on the justification even of individuals,
especially in a revolution in which the principal parts were extremely numerous.
M. de Lafayette has been so calumniated, and his character is nevertheless so pure,
so consistent, that it is right to devote, at least, one note to him. His conduct during
the 5th and 6th of October was that of continual self-devotion, and yet it has been
represented as criminal by men who owed their lives to it. He has been reproached
in the first place, with the very violence of the national guard, which drew hiu»
108 HISTORY OF THE
At this moment the people began to stir, and they were already
thronging to the environs of the palace.* A quarrel took place with
one of the life-guards, who fired from the windows. The brigands
immediately rushed on, passed the gate which had been left open, as-
cended a staircase, wlrere they found no obstruction, and were at length
stopped by two life-guardsmen, who heroically defended themselves,
falling back only foot by foot, and retiring from door to door. One
of these generous servants was Miomandre ; he shouted, " Save the
Queen !" This cry was heard, and the Queen ran trembling to the
King's apartments. While she was escaping, the brigands pushed for-
against his will to Versailles. Nothing can be more unjust, for though you may
with firmness control soldiers whom you have long led to victory, yet citizens recently
and voluntarily enrolled, and who obey you merely from the enthusiasm of their
opinions, are irresistible when these opinions get the better of them. M. de Lafayette
struggled against them for a whole day, and certainly nobody could expect more.
Besides, nothing could be more beneficial than his departure; for, but for the na-
tional guard, the palace would have been stormed, and it is impossible to say what
might have been the fate of the royal family amidst the popular exasperation. As
we have already seen, the life-guards would have been overpowered but for the na-
tional guards. The presence of M. de Lafayette and his troops at Versailles was
therefore indispensable.
Not only has he been reproached for having gone thither, but he has also been
censured for having gone to bed when there, and this indulgence has been made the
subject of the most virulent and oft-repeated attacks. The truth is. that M. de La-
fayette remained up till the morning ; that ho passed the whole night in sending out
patroles and restoring order and tranquillity ; and what proves how judiciously his
precautions were taken is, that none of the posts committed to his care was attacked.
All appeared quiot, and he did what any one else would have done in his place, he
threw himself on a bed, to get a little rest, which he so much needed after struggling
for twenty-four hours against the populace. But that rest lasted no longer than
half an hour. He was stirring at the first outcries, and in time to save the life-guards
who were about t>' be massacred. What then is it possible to reproach him with ?
not having been present at the first minute ? but tins might have happened in lay
other case. The issuing of au order or the inspecting of a post might have taken
him away for half an hour from the- point where the first attack was to take place;
and his absence at the first moment of the action was the most inevitable of all acci-
dents. But did he arrive in time to save almost all the victims, to preserve the palace
and the august personages within it ? did he generously involve himself in the
greatest dangers 1 This is what cannot be denied, and what procured him at the
time universal thanks. There was then but one voice among those whom be had
saved. Madame de Stael, who cannot be suspected of partiality in favour of .M. de
Lafayette, relates that she heard the life-guards shouting Lafayette for ever ! Mouuier,
whose testimony is equally above suspicion, commends his zeal; and M. de Lally-
Tollendal regrets that at this crisis he had uot been invested with a kind of dictator-
ship. (See his Report to his Constituents.) These two deputies have expressed
themselves so strongly against the 5th and 6th of October, that their evident
be received with perfect confidence. At any rate, in the first moment nobody durst
deny an activity that was universally acknowledged. Subsequently, the spirit oC
the party, feeling the danger of allowing any virtues to a constitutionalist, denied
the services of Lafayette, and then commenced that long series of calumny to which
he has ever since been exposed.
* " Nothing occurred to interrupt the public tranquillity from three till five o'clock
in the morning ; but the aspect of the populace presaged an approaching storm.
Large groups of savage men and intoxicated women were seated round the watch-fires
in all the streets ot Versailles, and relieved the tediumof a rainy night by singii..
lutionary songs. In one of these circles their exasperation was such, that, seated
on the corpse of one of the body-guard, they devoured the flesh of his hone haJ£
roasted in the flames, while a ring of frantic cannibals danced round the group. At
six o'clock a furious mob rushed towards the palace, and rinding a gate open, speedily
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 109
M*ard, found the royal bed forsaken, and would have penetrated far-
ther, but they were again checked by the life-guards, posted in consi-
derable number at that point. At this moment the French guards be-
longing to Lafayette, stationed near the palace, hearing the uproar,
hastened to the spot, and dispersed the brigands. They arrived at the
door behind which the life-guards were intrenched. " Open the door,"
they cried : "the French guards have not forgotten that you saved their
regiment at Fontenoi." The door was opened aud they rushed into
each other's arms.
Tumult reigned without. Lafayette, who had lain down only
for a few moments, and had not even fallen asleep, hearing the noise,
leaped upon the first hor^e he met with, galloped into the thick of the
fray, and there found several of the life-guards on the point of being
slaughtered. While he was disengaging them, he ordered his troops
tq hasten to the palace, and remained alone amidst the brigands.
One of them took aim at him. Lafayette coolly commanded the peo-
ple to bring the man to him. The mob instantly seized the culprit,
and, before the face of Lafayette, dashed out his brains against the
pavement. After saving the life-guards, Lafayette, flew with them to
the palace, and there found his grenadiers, who had already repaired
thither. They all surrounded him, and vowed to die for the King.
At this moment, the life-guards, who had been saved from destruction,
shouted Lafayette for ever ! The whole court, seeing themselves pre-
served by him and his troops, acknowledged that to him they Avere
indebted for their lives. These testimonies of gratitude were univer-
sal. Madame Adelaide, the King's aunt, ran up to him, and clasp-
ed him in her arms, saying, " General, you have saved us."
The populace at this moment insisted with loud cries that the King
should go to Paris.* A council was held. Lafayette, being invited
filled the staircases and vestibules of the royal apartments. The assassins rushed into
the Queen's room a few minutes after she had left it, and, enraged at finding their
victim escaped, pierced her bed with their bayonets ! They then dragged the bodies
of two of the body-guard who had been massacred, below the windows of the King,
beheaded them, and carried the bloody heads in triumph upon the points of their
pikes through the streets of Versailles." — Alison. E.
* " The mob crowded in the marble court, and wandering on the outside of the
palace, began to express again their designs with frightful bowlings. ' To Paris !
To Paris!' were the first cries. Their prey was promised them, and then fresh
cries ordered the unfortunate family to appear on the balcony. The Queen showed
herself accompanied by her children ; she was forced by threats to send them away.
I mixed in the crowd, and beheld for the first time that unfortunate Princess; she
was dressed in white, her head was bare, and adorned with beautiful fair locks.
Motionless, and in a modest and noble attitude, she appeared to me like a victim on
the block. The enraged populace were not moved tit the sight of wo in all its
Imprecations increased, and the unfortunate Princess could not even find
a support in the King, for his presence only augmented the fury of the multitude.
At last preparations for departure did more towards appeasing them than promises
could have done, and by twelve o'clock the frightful procession set off". I hope such
a scene will never be witnessed again ! I have often asked myself how the metropo-
lis of a nation, so celebrated for urbanity and elegance of manners — how the
brilliant city of Paris could contain the savage hordes I that day beheld, and who so
lom: reigned over it! In walking through the streets of Paris, it seems to me, the
a even of the lowest aud most miserable class of people do not present to the
eye any thing like ferociousness, or the meanest passions in all their hideous energy.
110 HISTORY OF THE
to attend it, refused, that he might not impose any restraint on the
freedom of opinion. It was at length decided that the court should
comply with the wish of the people. Slips of paper, containing this
intimation, were thrown out of the windows. Louis XVI. then showed
himself at the balcony, accompanied by the general, and was greeted
with shouts of " Long live the King .'" But the Queen did not fare
the same : threatening voices were raised against her. Lafayette ac-
costed her. " Madame," said he, " what will you do V — " Accom-
pany the King," undauntedly replied the Queen. " Come with me
then," rejoined the general, and he led her in amaze to the balcony.
Some threats were offered by the populace. A fatal shot might be
fired ; words could not be heard ; it was necessary to strike the eye.
Stooping and taking the hand of the Queen, the general kissed it res-
pectfully. The mob of Frenchmen was transported at this action,
and confirmed the reconciliation by shouts of Long live the Queen t
Long live Lafayette ! Peace was not yet made with the life-guards.
" Will you not do something for my guards V said the King to La-
fayette. The latter took one of them and led him to the balcony,
clasped him in his arms, and put on him his own shoulder-belt. The
populace again cheered, and ratified by its plaudits this new reconci-
liation.
The Assembly had not deemed it consistent with its dignity to go
to the monarch, though he had desired it to do so. It had contented
itself with sending to him a deputation of thirty-six members. As soon
as it was apprized of his intended departure, it passed a resolution
purporting that the Assembly was inseparable from the person of the
sovereign, and it nominated one hundred deputies to accompany him
to Paris. The King received the resolution, and set out.*
Can those passions alter the features so as todeprive them of all likeness to humanity?
Or does the terror inspired hy the sight of a guilty wretch give him the semblance
of a w ill beast ? These madmen, dancing in the mire, and covered with mud. sur-
rounded the King's coach. The groups that marched foremost carried on long pikes
the bloody heads of the life-guardsmen butchered in the morning. Surely Satan
himself first invented the placing of a human head at the end of a lance! Tin dis-
figured and pale features, the gory locks, the half-open mouth, the closed eyes, images
of death added to the gestures and salutations which the executioners made them
perform in horrible mockery of life, presented the most frightful spectacle that rage
could have imagined. A troop of women, ugly as crime itself, swarming like ini
and wearing grenadiers" hairy raps, went continually to and fro. howli ig barbarous
songs, embracing and insulting the life-guards. This scene lasted fur eight hours
before the royal family arrived at the Place de Grove. They alighted at the Hotel
de Ville, their first-resting place during protracted misery, that terminated some year*
afterwards in a horrible death. Thus ended the memorable (>th of October!" — Me
tnoirs of Laralh.ttr. E.
* " The King did not leave Versailles till one o'clock. The hundred deputies in
their carriages followed him. A detachment of brigands, carrying in triumph the
heads of* the two life-guards, formed the advanced guard, which had set off two hours
earlier. These cannibals stopped for a moment at Sevres, and carried their ferocity
to such a pitch as to force an unfortunate barber to dress the hair of those two !
nur heads. The main body of the Parisian army immediately followed. Befor
Kind's carriage marched the potamrde*, who had come the preceding evening from
Talis, and that whole army of abandoned women, the srum of thoir cex, still drill *
with fjiry and with wine. Several of them were astride upon the cannon, celebrating
by the most abominable songs all the Crimes which they had committed or witnessed
FRENCH REVOLUTION. Ill
The principal bands of the mob had already gone. Lafayette had
sent after them a detachment oCthe army, to prevent them from turn-
ing back. He also issued orders for disarming the brigands who were
carrying the heads of two life-guardsmen on the point of their pikes.
These horrible trophies were taken from them, and it is not true that
they w»re borne before, the carriage of the King.*
Others, nearer to the King's carriage, were singing allegorical aire, and by their gross
gt 'stares applying the insulting allusions in them to the Queen. Carte laden with
corn and Hour, which had come to Versailles, formed a convoy escorted by grena-
diers, and surrounded by women and market-porters armed with pikes, or carrying
large poplar boughs. This part of the cort6ge produced at some distance the most
singular effect : it looked like a moving wood, amidst which glistened pike-heads and
gun-barrels. In the transports of their brutal joy, the women stopped the passen-
gers and yelled in their ears, while pointing to the royal carriage, ' Courage, my
friends ; we shall have plenty of bread now that we have got the baker, the baker's
wife, and the baker's boy.' Behind his majesty's carriage were some of his faithful
guards, partly on foot, partly on horseback, most of them without hats, all disarmed,
and exhausted with hunger and fatigue. The dragoons, the Flanders regiment, the
Cent-Suisses, and the national guards, preceded, accompanied, and followed the file
of carriages.
" I was an eyewitness of this distressing spectacle, this melancholy procession.
Amidst this tumult, this clamour, these songs interrupted by frequent discharges of
musketry, which the hand of a monster or an awkward person might have rendered
so fatal, I saw the Queen retain the most courageous tranquillity of mind, and an air of
inexpressible nobleness and dignity: my eyes filled with tears of admiration and
grief." — Bertrandde Mollcrille, E.
* The following is Lafayette's own account of this affair. It is derived from the
posthumous Memoirs of the General, lately published by his family : "The numerous
and armed hordes who quitted Paris on the 5th of October, and who, united with the
populace of Versailles, committed the disorders of that day, were totally distinct from
the immense assemblage that, blockading themselves and us, made it difficult for the
news of that tumultuous departure for Versailles to reach the Hotel de Ville. I in-
stantly perceived that, whatever might be the consequence of this double movement,
the public safety required that I should take part in it, and, after having received
from the Hotel de Ville an order and two commissaries, I hastily provided for the
security of Paris, and took the road to Versailles at the head of several battalions.
When we approached the hall of the Assembly, the troops renewed their oath. They
only advanced after I had offered my respects to the president, and received orders
from the King, who, having heard speeches from the commissaries and me, desired
me to occupy the posts of the former French guards ; aud in truth,, at that time, the
pretension of takiug possession of the palace would have appeared a most singular
one. Not only the gardes-du-corps on service, but the Swiss sentinels stationed in
the garden, and four hundred gardes-du-corps on horseback on the 6ide towards
Trianon, were not dependent in the slightest degree on me. I did not undoubtedly
carry terror into the palace; I answered for my own troops; the result proved that I
was right in doing so. I was not sufficiently master of the minds of the courtiers to
believe that their security depended solely on myself; — for example, it was not I who
sent to their own homes, in Versailles, the greatest number of the officers of the
gardes-du-corps; nor was it I who sent to Rambouillet, at two o'clock in the morn-
ing (instead of employing them in forming patroles) the four hundred horse-guards
placed on the side nearest to the gardens of Trianon.
[I have been told by a person worthy of credit, who had this piece of intelligence
from M. du la Tour du Pin, the minister, that the King had hesitated until two in the
morning respecting the projects of flight proposed to him.]
" I procured lodgings for the drenched and fatigued troops ; I ascertained that the
Hotel des Gardes-du-corps .was defended by a battalion: I ordered patroles in the
town, and round the palace. The entry into the King's chamber was refused me at
two o'clock in the morning : I then repaired to the house of M. de Montmorin, in the
ministers' court, within reach of my grenadiers. At break of day all things appeared
to me to wear a tranquil aspect; I went to the Hotel de Noailles, very near the palace,
112 HISTORY OF THE.
Louis XVI. at length returned amidst a considerable concourse,
and was received by Uuilly at the II6tel de Ville. " I return with con-
fidence," said the King, " into the rmdst of my people of Pari.-.''
ia which the staff received reports. I made 6ome necessary arrangements for Paris;
I partook of some refreshments ; and should have believed that exhausted nature re-
quired, after more than twenty hours' unremitting exertion, some repose, if, a few
minutes later, a sudden alarm had not restored to me all my strength.
"That infernal irruption was in truth most sudden, and perfectly distinct from the
other tumults. Two gardes-du-corps were killed; other brave and faithful :
stopped the brigands at the door of the apartment of the Queen, who \\
to the King by the young Victor Mnubourg, one of their otlicers. Ti
of my advanced post had scarcely arranged themselves in order of battle. \\ b
received my command to hasten to the palace. A volunteer company also i
thither very speedily. I flew at the same time to the spot, having sprung on :
horse I met with. I was fortunate enough iu the first instance to liberate a group of
gardes-du-corps, and, having confided them to the charge of the few persons \
companied me, I remained surrounded by a furious mob, one of whom cried out to
the others to kill me. I commanded them to seize him, doubtless in a very authori-
tative voice, for they dragged him towards me, striking his head on the pav<
I found the apartments occupied with national guards. The King deigned never
to forget the scene that ensued, when the grenadiers, with tears in their eves.
promised me to perish to the last man with him. During that time our guards were
arriving; the courts were lined with national guards, and filled with a multitude in
a high state of excitement. Those who heard me address the King were not dissatis
fied with my expressions.
" I had long been of opinion that the Assembly would be more quiet, and the
King more secure, in Paris. 1 refused, however, being present at the deliberation,
(become necessary, I own,) in which the departure was decided upon ; and
as the Queen had declared her noble determination of accompanying the Kim
before thousands of witnesses, all that could be expected from the circumstaw
my devotion. It was then that in the King's cabinet, while embraced by Madame
Adelaide, I received from that respectable princess testimonies of approbation that ill
prepared me for the abuse from which I have since been obliged to \ in
"The statements of the proceedings of the Chatelet have mingled togeth> i
sertions, opinions, reports, and even suppositions, of men of all parties. Sm-h al>
surd accusations are found there, as that Mirabeau was seen on the 6dl armed with
a sabre, among the soldiers of a Flemish regiment; that a prince distributed money
at six o'clock in the morning; and several tales of the same nature, the falsehood of
which is evident. — I have looked over some letters from officer* and gar
corps, found in the King's cabinet, written in 1790 and 1791. Some of n
dressed to a friend are evidently intended to efface, at the expense of other )
unfavourable expressions; other letters contain inaccuracies, contradictions, and in-
significant phrases ; but all of them tend to prove that we only bad charr
ancient posts, the French guards ; that when the chiefs of the gardes-du-corps required
instructions, it was to the King, the ministers, and M. d' IlMaing. and not to me. that
they thought proper to apply ; that I had taken, and even redoubled, ever) pn
for the Hotel des Gardes-du-corps; that those guards, as well as the pala.
saved by us; and that a wounded guard of the King selected my house in i
the place in which he would best be taken care of. These words ' M. de 1.
has saved us,' are continually repeated. Among the false assertions that h
propagated, I shall relate but one ; it was said that the heads of two unfortunate
gardes-du-corps had been carried before the carriage of the King. While w
only thinking of saving their comrades and the royal family, it is sufficiently horrible
that bandits should have escaped with the infamous trophies of their crimes ; but they
had arrived at the Palais Royal ; and public authority had succeeded in di>;
them, before the King had even quitted Versailles." K.
" Lafayette, born in Auvergne. of one of the most ancient families of that province,
was employed, when still young, in the army that I.oui>.\\ !. end the inde-
Eendence of the I.nglish colonies of North America. Rochatnbeau placed him at the
cad of some volunteers, and iu this manner he served with some distinction during
the whole war. He returned to France with the rank of major-general, full cf
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 1 13
Bailfy repeated these words to those who could not hear them, but he
forgot the word cnnftJnice. " Add with confidence" said the Queen.
" Vim are happier," replied Bailly, " than if I had said it myself."*
i liberty. Being appointed by the noblesse of his province, deputy to the States-
that the examination of the powers should take place in common.
After the union of the three order*, he insisted, with Mirabeau, on the removal of the
troops whom the court was marching towards Paris. Being appointed vice-president,
lie [ires-ntedhis well-known declaration of rights. In July, 1789, he was appointed
commander of the Parisian national guard. A few days after the famous 5th of October,
I. it'.ivette, in a conference very imperious on the one side, and »ery timid on the other,
;;:\e the Duke of Orleans to understand that his name was the pretext for all coram*
turns, and that he must leave the kingdom ; an apparent mission was given to this prince,
and he set out for England. In February, 1790, Lafayette, in the Assembly, solicited
nse-isures for repressing the disturbers of the provinces, and indemnifying the pro-
prietors of burnt houses ; these excesses he attributed to the counter-revolutionary
spirit. He afterwards voted for the suppression of titles of honour and nobility,
refusing even to admit of an exception in favour of tho princes. At the Federation
in July, he presented the national guards, who were collected from every part of the
kingdom, to the Assembly and the Kin?. At the time of Louis's flight, he was accu-
sed by the Jacobins of having assisted in it, and by the Royalists of having contri-
ved the arrest of his sovereign. When the King's fate was debated in the Assembly,
Lafayette was among those who objected to the motion for bringing him to trial, and
declaring him deposed. When the Constitution was accepted, Lafayette voted for
the amnesty demanded by the King, and resigned his office of commander of the
guard, upon which the municipality ordered a gold medal to be struck in his honour.
In 1793 l^l'ayette went to Metz, where he took the command of the central army.
At first he encamped under the walls of Givet, but his advanced guard, posted near
Philipsburg, met with a slight check, upon which he removed to the intrenched camp
at Maubeige, and placed his advanced guard at Grisnelles, under the command of
Gouvion, where it was surprised and cut to pieces, and its leader killed by a cannon-
ball. Shortly afterwards Lafayette's army received accounts of the attempt made on
the 20th of June, and, in different addresses, declared its disapprobation of the out-
rtje offered on that day to Louis. Proud of such support, Lafayette went to Paris,
and appeared at the bar of the legislative body, where he complained of these outra-
ges, and accused the Jacobins. For one moment the Assembly seemed intimidated
DT this step, but the faction soon took courage : and Lafayette returned to his army
after baring in vain orsed Louis to leave Paris, and come among his troops, who were
th.'ii faithful. Soon after, commissions having been sent from Paris to insist on his re-
moval from his command, he addressed his troops in a proclamation, in which he called
on them to choose between the Constitution and Petion for a king. The whole army
oed, • Long live the King !' — 'Long live the Constitution !'— but Lafayette, pla-
cing little dependence on this hurst of enthusiasm, fled with several officers of his staff.
I then declared an emigrant. On his arrival at the Austrian advanced posts
I made prisoner. He was afterwards delivered up to the King of Prussia,
who caused him to be removed to Magdeburg, where he remained a year in a dun-
hut when Prussia made peace with France, he was restored to the Aus-
trisiM, who sent him to Olmutz. After a rigorous imprisonment of three years and
iiths. he obtained his liberty at the request of Bonaparte. He then withdrew
t'i Hamburg, and after the lcth Brumaire, returned to France," — B'wgraphie Mo-
dene. From this period Lafayette remained in comparative retirement till the
breaking out of the second Revolution in 1830, when he was again appointed coui-
r of the national guards, which, however, he resigned, shortly after the acces-
'Louis-Philippe to the throne. He died in the year 1834, at the age of 76. E.
n Bailly was one of the forty of the French Academy, and deputy
«<f Paris to the States-General. Born in Paris on the 15th of September, 1736, nature
had endowed him with till the talents which fit men for the study of the sciences, and
ditations of philosophy. After several essays, which were well received by
the jmblic, he published a history of astronomy. When the Revolution broke out
'. the electors of Paris chose him as secretary, and then as deputy of the tiers-dot
States-General. He was president ofthis assembly in its first session. On the
lljth of July he was appointed Mayor of Paris. When, after the flight qf the King,
VOL. I. 15
114 HISTORY OF THE
The royal family repaired to the palace of the Tuileries, which had
not been inhabited for a century, and where there had not been time
to make the necessary preparations. The guard <a'h was com
to the Parisian militia, and Lafayette was thus made responsible to
the nation for the person of the King, for which all the parties were
contending. The nobles were desirous to carry him to some fortress,
in order to exercise despotism in baa name. The popular party';
which had not yet conceived the idea of dispensing with him, wished
to keep him, to complete the constitution, and to withdraw a chief
from civil war. Hence the malignity of the privileged classes called
Lafayette a gaoler ; and yet his vigilance proved only one thing —
the sincere desire to have a King.*
From this moment the march of the parties displayed itself in ■
new manner. The aristocracy, separated from Louis XVL, and in-
capable of executing any enterprise by his side, dispersed itself abroad
and in the provinces. It was from this time that the emigration be-
gan to be considerable. A great number of nobles fled to Turin, to
the Count d'Artois, who had found an asylum with his father-in-
law.t Here their policy consisted in exciting the departments of
the parties were divided, and the more violent revolutionists wished to seize the
opportunity of pronouncing the forfeiture of Louis, Bailly opposed the ferments
excited in Paris in favor of the party of the forfeiture. An immense crowd hav-
ing thronged to the Champ deMars to frame an address recommending the forfeiture,
on the 17th of July, 1791, Bailly caused martial law to he proclaimed against this
assembly, which was dispersed by armed force. The National Assembly approved
this step ; but, from this time, Bailly perceived that his credit was •inking. He
vacated the office of mayor early in November, and then went over to England,
whence he returned shortly after to Paris, trusting to spend the rest of his days in
retirement. He was, however, arrested in 179!*, and brought to trial in Nov
before the revolutionary tribunal, which condemned him to death. On the day
after the passing of his sentence, he was put into the fatal cart, and, while prpescqi
ing to execution, was loaded with the insults of the people. It was resolved that
he should die on the Champ de Mars, in the very place where he had caused tlio
seditious people to be fired on. Here he felt down in a fainting-fit. When he re-
covered, he demanded, haughtily, that an end might be put to his miseries. • I >o>t
thou tremble, Bailly V said one of his executioners, seeing his limbs, weakened by
age, quiver. ' Friend,' answered he, calmly, ' if I do tremble, it is with cold.'
After having been subjected to every species of ignominy, he ran himself to the
scaffold, which had been fixed upon a heap of duns. He died with great corrragiS.
Bailly was tall, his face long and serious, and his character by no means d< i
sensibility. There are several valuable works on astronomy by him. His widow
died in IdOO. — Biographie Modcrne. E.
* " The insurrection of the 5th and (Uh of October was truly a popular move-
ment; we must not seek for any secret causes of it. or ascribe it to ci
bition ; it was provoked by the imprudence of the court. The banqnet of the body-
guard, the rumors of die flight, the fear of civil war. and die fai line, alone tarried
Paris on Versailles. If particular instigators, which the most interested in proving
the fact have left doubtful, contributed to produce the commotion, they .
neither its direction nor its object. This event destroyed the ancient r6gime of the.
court; ittook away its guard; it transported it from the royal town to the capita
revolution, and placed it under the surveillance of the people " I'.
t "The, day of the King's entrance into Paris was (he first ofthe emigration of the
MMMH — a fatal example of defection, which, being spec:.
*ame.
rior nobility, produced the most disastrous conseqtii it it was the
in all the subsequent changes ofthe Revolution. The royalist leaders, ulv
first to propose violent measure*, were at the same time unable to support them
when opposed ; they diminished the sympathy of the world at their fall It
high a rank, by showing that they were unworthy of it." — Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 115
the south, and in supposing that the King was not free. The Cfeueen,
who was an Au.-trian, and moreover an enemy to the new court form-
ed at Turin, fixed her hopes on Austria. The King, amidst Ihfltfe
machinations, saw every thing, prevented nothing, and awaited his
salvation* come from what quarter it might. From time to time he
made the disavowals required by the Assembly, and was not really
ny more than he would have been at Turin or at Coblentz, or
than he \\ as under Maurepas ; for it is the lot of weakness to be every
where dependent.
The popular party thenceforward triumphant, wasdivided amongthe
Duke of Orleans, Lafayette, Mirabeau, Barnave, and the Lameths.*
The public voice charged the Duke of Orleans and Mirabeau with be-
ing the authors of the late insurrection. Witnesses who were not un-
worthy of credit, asserted that they had seen the duke and Mirabeau
on the deplorable field of battle of the 6th of October. These state-
ments were afterward contradicted ; at the moment, however, they
were believed. The conspirators had intended to remove the King,
and even to put him to death, said the boldest calumniators. The
Duke of Orleans, they added, had aspired to be lieutenant of the king-
dom, and Mirabeau minister. As none of these plans had succeeded,
Tjafayette appearing to have thwarted them by his presence, was
regarded as the saviour of the King, and the conqueror of the Duke
of Orleans and Mirabeau. The court, which had not yet had time
to become ungrateful, acknowledged Lafayette to be its preserver, and
the power of the general at this moment seemed immense. The
hotheaded patriots were incensed at it, and began already to mutter
the name of Cromwell. Mirabeau, who, as we shall presently see,
had no connexion with the Duke of Orleans, was jealous of Lafayette,
and called him Cromwell Grandison. The aristocracy seconded these
distrusts, and added to them its own calumnies. Lafayette, however,
was determined, in spite of all obstacles, to uphold the King and the
constitution. For this purpose he resolved in the first place to remove
the Duke of Orleans, whose presence gave occasion to many reports,
and might furnish, if not the means, at least a pretext, for disturb-
ances. He had an interview with the prince, intimidated him by his
firmness, and obliged him to withdraw. The King, who was in the
scheme, feigned, with his usual weakness, to be forced into this mea-
sure ; and writing to the Duke of Orleans, he told him that it was ab-
solutely necessary for him or M. de Lafayette to retire ; that, in the
state of opinions, the choice was not doubtful ; and that, in conse-
quence, he gave him a commission for England. We have since been
informed that M. de Montmorin, minister for foreign affairs, in order
* " At this epoch, the extremes on the liberal side were Duport, Barnave, and La-
meth, who formed a triumvirate, whose opinions were formed by Duport, supported
by Barnave, and whose measures were directed by Alexandre Lameth. This party
C laced itself at once in a position a little in advance of that in which the Revolution
ad arrived. The 14th of July had been the triumph of the middle class; theconstit
neat was its assembly ; the national guard its armed force; the mayoralty its popular
power. Mirabeau, Lafayette, and Bailly, applied themselves to this class, and were
the one its orator, the other its general, and the third its magistrate." — Migiut. E.'
1 16 HISTORY OF THE
to rid himself of the ambition of the Duke of Orleans, directed him
towards the Netherlands, then in rebellion against Austria, and tha^
he had held out hopes to him of acquiring the title of Duke of Bra-
bant.* His friends, when apprized of this resolution, were indignant
at his weakness. More ambitious than he, they would have persuaded
him not to comply. They went to Mirabeau, and entreated him to
denounce in the tribune the violence which Lafayette was committing
against the prince. Mirabeau, already jealous of the general's popu-
larity, sent word to him and to the duke that he would denounce both
of them in the tribune if the departure for England should take place.
The Duke of Orleans was shaken : a fresh summons from Lafayette
decided him ; and Mirabeau, on receiving in the Assembly a note ac-
quainting him with the retreat of the prince, exclaimed in vexation :
" He is not worth the trouble that is taken about him."t This expres-
sion and -many others equally inconsiderate have caused him to Ik
frequently accused of being one of the agents of the Duke of Orleans ;
but this he never was. His straitened circumstances, the imprudence
of his language, his familiarity with the Duke of Orleans, though in-
deed he treated every body in the same manner, his proposal relative
to the Spanish succession, and lastly his opposition to the departure
of the duke, could not but excite suspicions ; it is nevertheless true
that Mirabeau had no party, nay, that he had no other aim but to des-
troy the aristocracy and arbitrary power.
The authors of these suppositions ought to have known that Mira-
beau was at this time under the necessity of borrowing the most tri-
fling sums, which would not have been the case, if he had been tike
agent of a prince immensely ritsh, and who is believed to have 1>
almost ruined by his partisans. Mirabeau had already foreboded the
speedy dissolution of the state. A conversation with an intimate
friend, which lasted a whole night, in the park of Versailles, can
him to decide on adopting an entirely new plan ; and he determined
for his glory , for the welfare of the state, and lastly for his own fortune —
for Mirabeau was the man for attending to all these interests at once
— to stand immoveable between the disaffected and the throne, and to
consolidate the monarchy while making a place in it for himself. The
court had tried to gain him, but the affair had been clumsily mana-
* See Ditmonriez'8 Memoir-;.
t I have already shown that there was scarcely any connexion whatever between
Mirabeau and the Duke of Orleans. Here follows a key to the signification of the
celebrated expression, Cej...f..... no nitrite pas la peine qu'on se donnt pourlui. The
constraint exercised by Lafayette over the Duke of Orleans indisposed tbe popular
potty, and irritated above ail the friends of the prince who was doomed to t .
The latter conceived the idea of letting loose Mirabeau against Lafayette, by ta-
king advantage of the jealousy of the orator against the general. Liu/.un. a friend of
the duke's went one evening to Mirabeau. to urge him to take up the subject tbe i
MXt morning, .Mirabeau, who often gave way to persuasion, was about t<> yield,
when Ins friends, more, vigilant than himself over his own conduct, begged ban not
to stir. It was therefore resolved that he should not sp< tli I
opening of the sitting, news arrived of the departure of the Duke of Orleans; an I
Mnabeau. who owed him a grudge for his compliance to Lafayette, and bethought
him of the useless efforts of his friends, exclaimed, Ce j... /..... ne m6rite pas la piint
qu'on st dome pour Ini.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 117
ged, and without the delicacy requisite towards a man of great pride,
and desirous of retaining his popularity, in default of the esteem which
he did not yet possess. Malouet, a friend of Necker, and connected
with Mirabeau, wished to bring them into communication. Mira-
beau had frequently declined this,* being certain that he could never
with the minister. He nevertheless assented. Malouet intro-
duced him, and the incompatibility of the two characters was still
more strongly felt after this interview, in which, according to the ad-
mission of nil present, Mirabeau displayed the superiority which lie had
m private life, as well as in the tribune. It was reported that he had
manifested a wish to be bought, and that, as Necker made no overture,
he said on going away : " The minister shall hear of me." This again
is an interpretation of the parties, but it is false. Malouet had pro-
posed to Mirabeau, who was known to be satisfied with the liberty ac-
quired, to come to an understanding with the minister, and nothing
more- Besides, it was at this very period that a direct negotiation was
opened with the court. A foreign prince, connected with men of all
parties, made the first overtures. A friend, who served as inter-
mediate agent, explained that no sacrifice of principles would be
obtained from Mirabeau ; but that, if the government would adhere to
the constitution, it would find in him a stanch supporter ; that, as to
the conditions, they were dictated by his situation ; that it was requi-
site, even for the interest of thote who wished to employ him, that
that situation should be rendered honourable and independent — in
other words, that his debts should be paid ; that, finally, it was neces-
sary to make him attached to the new social order, and without ac-
tually giving him the ministry, to hold out hopes of it at some future
timet The negotiations were not entirely concluded till two or three
mouths afterwards, that is, in the first months of 1790.$ Ilisto-
•* Messrs. Malouet and Bertrand de Molleville have not hesitated to assert the cou-
nt the fact here advanced is attested hy witnesses of the highest credibility.
t In Mirabeau, as in -ill superior men, much littleness was united with much great-
ness. He had a lively imagination, which it was requisite to amuse with hopes. It was
impossible to give him the ministry without destroying bis influence, and consequently
without ruining bun, and nullifying the aid that might be derived from him. On the
other hand, he needed this bait for his imagination. Those therefore who had placed
themselves between him and the court, recommended that at least the hope of a port-
folio should be left him. However, the personal interests of Mirabeau were never
the subject of particular mention in the various communications which took pluce ;
nothing in fact was ever said about money or favours, and it was ditlicult to make
iu understand what the court wished to convey to him. For this purpose a
very ingenious method was suggested to the King. Mirabeau had so bad a reputa.
tion that few persons would have been willing to serve as his colleagues. The King,
addressing If. de Liancourt, for whom he had a particular friendship, asked him. if
in order to render him service, he would accept a portfolio in company with Mira
b au. M. de Liancourt, devoted to the monarch, replied, that he was ready to do
whatever the good of his service required. This question, which was soon reported
to the orator, filled him with satisfaction; and he no longer doubted that he should be
appointed minister, as soon as eiivinn-tances permitted,
(1 with the fickleness of the multitude, Mirabeau had long made secret
advances to the constitutional party, and entered into correspondence with the King,
for the purpose of restraining the further progress of th» Revolution. He re.
tor a short time, a pension of 80,900 francs, or SOW. a month, first from the Count
d Artois, , nd afterwards from the King: but it was not continued till the time of bia
deulb, from finding that he was not so pliant as the court party expected." AIujii. L\
118 HISTORY OF THE
rians unacquainted with these particulars, and misled by the perseve-
rance of Mirabeau in opposing the government, have assigned a later
period to this treaty. It was, however, nearly concluded at the com-
mencement of 1790. We shall notice it in its proper place.
The only way in which Barnave and the Lameths could rival
Mirabeau, was by a greater patriotic austerity. Apprized of the nego-
tiations which were in progress, they accredited the rumour already
circulated, that the ministry was about to be conferred on him, in order
that they might thus deprive him of the means of accepting it. An
occasion for thwarting his views soon occurred. The ministers had
no right to speak in the Assembly. Mirabeau was unwilling, when
appointed minister, to lose the right of speaking, which was the chief
instrument of his influence ; he wished moreover to bring Necker into
the tribune, that he might crush him there. He proposed therefore
to give a consultative voice to the ministers. The popular party, in
alarm, opposed the motion without any reasonable motive, and ap-
peared to have a dread of ministerial seductions. But its apprehen-
sions were absurd ; for it is not by their public communications with
the chambers, that the ministers usually corrupt the national represen-
tation. Mirabeau's motion was negatived, and Lanjuinais, pushing
rigour still farther, proposed to forbid the existing deputies to ac-
cept the ministry. A violent debate ensued. Though the motive of
these propositions was known, it w%is not avowed ; and Mirabeau,
who was incapable of dissimulation, at length exclaimed that it would
be wrong, for the sake of a single individual, to take a measure per-
nicious to the state ; that he supported the motion, on condition that
the ministry should be interdicted, not to all the present deputies, but
only to M. de Mirabeau, deputy of the seneschalship of Aix. His
frankness and boldness were of no avail, and the motion was unani-
mously adopted.
We have seen how the state was divided between the emi<::
the Queen, the King, and different popular chiefs, such as Lafayette,
Mirabeau, Barnave, and Lameth. No decisive event, like that of the
14th of July or the 5th of October, was possible for a long time to
come. It was requisite that fresh contrarieties should exasperate the
court and the people, and produce a signal rupture.
The Assembly had removed to Paris, after repeated assurances of
tranquillity on the part of the commune, and the promise of entire
liberty in the votes. Mounier and Lally-Tollendal, indignant at the
events of the 5th and 6th of October, had resigned their seats, saying
that they would not be either spectators of, or accomplices in. tin-
crimes of the factious. They must have regretted this desertion of
the public welfare, especially when they saw Maury and Cazaies,
after seceding from the Assembly, soon return to it, and courageously
support to the end the cause which they had espoused. Mounier,
retiring to Dauphin^, assembled the states of the province-, but a
decree soon caused them to be dissolved, without any resistance.
Thus Mounier and Lally, who, at the period of the junction of tin-
orders and of the oath at the Tennis Court, had been the heroes of
the people, were no longer held in any estimation by them. The
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 119
parliaments had been first outstripped by the popular power; so had
Mourner, Lilly, and Necker, been after tbem ; and so many others
were very soon destined to be.
The dearth, the exaggerated but nevertheless real cause of the dis-
turbances, gave occasion also to a crime. A baker, named Francois,
was murdered by some brigands. Lafayette succeeded in securing
iiie culprits, and delivered them to the Chatelet, which was invested
with an extraordinary jurisdiction over all offences relative to the
Revolution. Here Besenval, and all those who were accused of
having a hand in the aristocratic conspiracy foiled on the 14th of
July, were under trial. The Chatelet was authorized to try according
to new forms. Till the introduction of the trial by jury, which was
not yet instituted, the Assembly had ordered publicity, the contradic-
tory defence, and all the measures which operated as safeguards to
innocence. The murderers of Francois were condemned, and tran-
quillity was restored. Upon thisoccasion, Lafayette and Bailly propo-
sed the adoption of martial law. The motion, though strongly opposed
by Robespierre, who thenceforward showed himself a warm partisan of
the people and the poor, was nevertheless approved by the majority.
By virtue of this law, the municipalities were responsible for the
public tranquillity ; in case of disturbance, they were directed to
require the aid of the regular troops or the militia; and they were
enjoined, after three warnings, to employ force against seditious
assemblages. A committee of search was established in the com-
mune of Paris and in the National Assembly, to look after the nume-
rous enemies, whose machinations crossed each other in all directions.
All these measures were not more than sufficient to control the host
of adversaries leagued against the new revolution.
The formation of the constitution was prosecuted with activity.
The feudal system had been abolished, but there was still wanting a
last measure for destroying those great bodies which had been ene-
mies constituted in the state against the state. The clergy possessed
immense property. It had been conferred on them by princes as
feudal grants, or by the pious by way of legacy. If the property of
individuals, the fruit and object of their labour, ought to be respected,
that which had been given to bodies for a certain purpose might have
another destination assigned to it by the law. It was for the service of
religion, or at least upon this pretext, that it had been bestowed ;
religion being a public service, the law had a right to provide for it in u
totally different manner. The Abb6 Maury here displayed his imper-
turbable spirit: he gave the alarm to the landed proprietors, threatened
them with speedy spoliation, and declared that the provinces were
sacrificed to the stockjobbers of the capital. His sophistry was sin-
gular enough to be recorded. It was to pay the public debt that the
property of the clergy was disposed of; the creditors were the great
capitalists of Paris ; the property which was sacrificed to them was in
the provinces; hence the bold reasoner concluded that it was sacri
ficing the country to the capital ; as if the country were not on the con
trary a gainer by the new division of those immense estates hitherto
leserved for the luxury of a few indolent churchmen.
All these efforts were useless. The bishop of Autun, the author
120 • HISTORY OF THE
of the proposal, and Thouret, the deputy, demolished these vnir.
sophisms.* The Assembly was proceeding to resolve that all the
possessions of the clergy belonged to the state ; the opposition, how-
ever, still insisted on the question of property. They were told
that if tHey were proprietors, the nation had a right to make use of
their property, since this kind of property had frequently
ployed in cases of emergency for the service of the state. This they
did not deny. Taking advantage of their assent, Miraheuu then
moved that, for the words belong to, should be substituted, are at the
disposal of, tin; state, and the discussion was instantly terminated hy
a great majority. The Assembly thus destroyed the formidable power
of the clergy mid the luxury of the high dignitaries of the order,
and secured those immense financial resources which so long upheld
the Revolution. At the same time, it provided for the subsistence of
the cures, by resolving that their salaries should not be less than twelve
hundred francs, adding, moreover, the use of a parsonage-house and
garden. It declared that it ceased to recognise religious vows, and
restored liberty to all the inmates of cloisters, leaving to those who
preferred it the right of continuing the monastic life. Their property
was withdrawn, and pensions were granted in its stead. Carrying
its forecast still farther, it established a difference between the weaJoVr
orders and the mendicant orders, and proportioned the salary of both
to their former condition. It pursued the same course in regard to
pensions; and when Camus, the Jansenist, desirous of returning to
the evangelical simplicity, proposed to reduce all pensions to one \<rv
low standard, the Assembly, on the recommendation of IMirabeau,
reduced them proportionably to their actual value, and suitably to the
former state of the receivers. It was impossible to carry attention to
previous habits to a greater length, and in this consists the real respect
for property. In like manner, when the Protestants, expatriated ever
since the edict of Nantes, reclaimed their possessions, the Assembly
restored such only as had not been sold.
Prudent and delicate in regard to persons, the Assembly treated
things witlwut ceremony, and was much bolder in matters relating to
the constitution. The prerogatives of the great powers had been
* " Talleyrand, Bishop of Antnn, proposed to the clergy to renounce the property
of the ecclesiastical benenoes in favour of the nation, which would employ it in the
support of the altars and the payment of its deht. He proved the justice and the
propriety of this measure; he showed the great advantages which would result from
it to the state. The clergy struggled against this proposition, but it was carried on
the 2d of December. From that moment the hatred af the clergy to the Revolution
broke forth. It had been Imi intractable than the noblesse at the commencement of
the Stati ■>-(,'. -neral, in the hope of preserving its wealth; afterwards it showed itself
not less opposed to the new regime" — Mignet. E.
" M. de Talleyrand is the only bishop ever appointed by the choice, and at the re-
Sf the clergy of France. He was then Abba de Perigord. and agent ef th«
bu1, contrary to the usual custom, especially iuthecasoof a man oTench Ugh
birth, Louis XVI. had delayed appointing him. The general assembly of the clergy
expressly voted that a representation should be made to the King, in their au
i of their astonishment that the Abbede Perigord was not made a bishop : uid
it was in consequence of this indication that the King at last gave him the bishoprie
of Autun."— Memoirs of Lafayette. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 121
fixed : the question now was, the division of the territory of the king-
dom. It had always been divided into provinces, successively united
ivith ancient France. These provinces, differing from one .'mother
in laws, privileges, and manners, formed a mpst heterogeneous whole.
-* conceived the idea of Wending tliem together by a new divi-
sion, wbich should annihilate tbe ancient demarcations, and introduce
uae laws and the same spirit into all parts of the kingdom. This
accomplished by the division into departments. These were
divided into districts, and the districts into municipalities. In all these
s, the principle of representation was admitted. The depart-
mental administration, that of the district, and that of the communes,
assigned to a deliberative council and to an executive council ;
both were elective. These various authorities depended the one on
the other, and they had the same powers, throughout their respective
jurisdictions. The department made the assessments of the taxes
upon the districts, the district upon the communes, and the commune
upon individuals.
The Assembly then fixed the quality of a citizen enjoying political
rights. It required the age of twenty-five years, and the payment of
contributions to the amount of one silver mark. Every man who
combined these conditions had the title of active citizen, and those
who did not, styled themselves passive citizens. These extremely
simple denominations were turned into ridicule ; for it is names
that people lay hold of when they want to depreciate things; but
they were natural, and aptly expressed their object. The active
citizen concurred in elections, either for the formation of the admi-
nistrations, or for that of the Assembly. The elections of the deputies
had two degrees. No specific condition was required to constitute
eligibility ; for, as it was observed in the Assembly, a man is an elec-
tor by his existence in society, and he must be eligible from the mere
lidence of the electors.
These operations, interrupted by a thousand incidental discussions,
vera nevertheless prosecuted with great ardour. The right side (the
party of the nobility and clergy) only contributed by its obstinacy to
* " Sieyes was one of those men, who, in ages of enthusiasm, found a sect, and, in
an age of intelligence, exercise the ascendant of a powerful understanding. Solitude
and philosophic speculation had ripened it for a happy moment; his ideas were new,
vigorous, various, hut little systematic. Society had in particular been die object
ot'hi.s examination; he had followed its progress and decomposed its machinery.
The nature of government appeared to him less a question of right than a question
li. Although cool and deliberate, Sieyes had the ardour which inspires the
investigation of truth, and the fearlessness to insist on its promulgation ; thus he was
in his notions, despising die ideas of others because he found diem incom-
.plete, and only, in his eyes, only the half truth, which was error. Contradiction irri-
ui ; he was little communicative; he would have wished to make himself
thoroughly understood, but he could not succeed with all the world. His disciples
transmitted his systems to others — a circumstance which gave him a certain air of
ousness, and rendered him the object of a sort of adoration. He had the
v which complete political science bestows, and die constitution could have
I'roin his head, all armed like the Miuerva of Jupiter, or the legislation of die
U, if in our times every one had not wished to assist in it, or to judge of it.
. with souie modifications, his plans were generally adopted, and he had
ominittees more disciples than fellow-labourers. " — Mignet. E.
VOL. I. 16.
122 HISTORY OF THE
impede them, the moment opportunity offered to contest any portion
of influence with the nation. The popular deputies, on the contrary,
though forming several parties, acted in concert, or differed without
animosity, agreeably to their private opinions. It was easy to per-
ceive that among them conviction predominated over party consider-
ations. Thouret, Mirabeau, Duport, Sieyes, Camus, Chapelier, v.
seen alternately uniting and dividing, according to their opinion, in
each discussion. As for the members of the nobility and clergy, they
never appeared but in party discussions. If the parliaments bad
issued decrees against the Assembly, if deputies or writers had insulted
it, they then came forward, ready to support them. They supported
also the military commandants against the people, the slave-traders
against the negro slaves ; they were against the admission of Jews
and Protestants to the enjoyment of the common rights. Lastly,
when Genoa declared against France, on account of the enfrand
ment of Corsica, and the union of that island with the kingdom, they
were in favour of Genoa against France. In short, aliens, indifferent
to all beneficial discussions, not listening to them, but conversing
among themselves, they never rose but when there were rights or
liberty to be refused.*
* It will not be uninteresting to show the opinion of Ferrierea concerning the
manner in which the deputies of his own party behaved in the Assembly.
" In the National Assembly," says Ferrieres, " there were not more than about three
hundred really upright men, exempt from party-spirit, not belonging to any club,
wishing what was right, wishing it for its own sake, independent of the interest of or-
ders or of bodies, always ready to embrace the most just and the most beneficial pro-
posal, no matter from what quarter it came, or by whom it was supported. These
were the men worthy of the honourable function to which they had been called, who
made the few good laws that proceeded from the Constituent Assembly ; it was they who
prevented all the mischief which was not done by it. Invariably adopting what was
good, as invariably opposing what was bad, they have frequently produced a ma-
jority in favour of resolutions which, but for them, would have been rejected from a
spirit of faction; and they have often defeated motions which, but for them, would
have been adopted from a spirit of interest.
" While on this subject, I cannot abstain from remarking on the impolitic conduct
of the nobles and the bishops. As they aimed only to dissolve the Assembly, to
throw discredit on its operations, instead of opposing mischievous measures, they
manifested an indifference on this point which is inconceivable. When the presi-
dent stated the question they quitted the hall, inviting the deputies of their party to
follow thein ; or. if they stayed, they called out to them to take no part in the delibe-
ration. The Clnbbists, forming through this dereliction of duty a majority of the
As-, inlily, carried every resolution they pleased. The bishops and the nobles, (irmly
believing that the new order of things would not last, hastened, with a sort of impa
tience, as if determined to accelerate the downfall, bom the ruin of the monarchy and
their own ruin. Willi this senseless conduct they combined an insulting disdain
both of the Assembly and of the people who attended the sittings. Instead of listen-
ing! they laughed and talked aloud, thus confirming the people in die unfavourable
opinion which it had coriceived of them ; and, instead of striving to recover its con-
fidence and its esteem, they strove only to gain its hatred and its contempt. All
these follies arose solely from the mistaken notion of the bishops and the nobles, who
could not persuade themselves that the Revolution had long ted in tho
opinion anil in the heart of every Frenchman. They hoped, by means of these
dykes, to set bounds to a torrent which was daily swelling. All they did served only
to produce a greater accumulation of its waters, to occasion greater ravages : obta
nately clinging to the old system, the bans of all their actions, of all their opposition,
but which was repudiated by all. By t!ii> impolitic, obstinacy they forced the 1!
lutionists to extend the Revolution beyond the goal which they had set up for them
FRENCH REVOLUTION 123
As we have already observed, it was no longer possible to attempt
nnv mat conspiracy in favour of tbe King, since the aristocracy was
put to flight, and the court was encompassed by the Assembly, the
people, and tlie national militia. Partial movements were, therefore,
all that the malcontents could attempt. They fomented the discon-
t.nt of the officers who adhered to the former order of things ; while
the soldiers, having every thing to gain, inclined to the new. Violent
quarrels took place between the army and the populace: the soldiers
frequently gave their officers to the mob, who murdered them ; at other
times, these mutual jealousies were happily appeased, and all again
I me quiet, when the commandants of towns could conduct them-
selves with any address, and had taken the oath of fidelity to the new
constitution. The clergy had inundated Britanny with protestations
against the alienation of its property. Attempts were made to excite
a remnant of religions fanaticism in the provinces, where the ancient
superstition still prevailed. The parliaments were also employed,
and a last trial was made of their authority. Their vacation had been
prorogued by the Assembly, because it did not wish to have any discus-
sion with them during the interval that should elapse before it could
dissolve them. The chambers of vacation administered justice in
their absence. At Rouen, at Nantes, at Rennes, they passed resolu-
tions, in which they deplored the ruin of the ancient monarchy and
the violation of its laws ; and, without mentioning the Assembly, they
seemed to point to it as the cause of all the prevailing evils. They
were called to the bar, and delicately reprimanded. That of Rennes,
as the most culpable, was declared incapable of fulfilling its functions.
That of Metz had insinuated that the King was not free. Such, as
we have already observed, was the policy of the discontented : as
they could not make use of the King, they sought to represent him
as in a state of restraint, and for this reason they were desirous of
annulling all the laws to which he appeared to assent. He seemed
himself to second this policy. He would not recal his life-guards,
who were dismissed on the 5th and 6th of October, and caused the
duty about his person to be performed by the national militia, among
whom he knew that he was safe. His intention was to appear to be
a captive. The commune of Paris foiled this too petty artifice, by
soliciting the King to recal his guards, which he refused to do upon
frivolous pretexts, and through the medium of the Queen.*
mires. The nobles and the bishops then exclaimed against injustice, tyranny. They
talked of the antiquity and the legitimacy of their rights to men who had sapped the
foundation of all rights." — Ferrieres, tome ii., p. 122.
* The question of the recal of the King's guards furnished occasion for an anec-
dote which deserves to be recorded. • The Queen complained to M. de Lafayette
that the King was not free, and in proof of this, she alleged that the duty of the
was done by the national guard and not by the life-guards. M. de Lafayette
liiuiiidiately asked her if she should be gratified by the recal of the latter. The
Queen at first hesitated to answer ; but she durst not refuse the offer made by the
general to bring about their recall. He instantly repaired to the municipality, which,
at his instigation, presented a formal petition to the King to recal his life-guards,
offering to share with them the duty of the palace. The King and Queen were not
wed with this solicitation; but they were soon rendered sensible of its conse-
quences, and those who were desirous that they should not appear to be free, induced
124 HISTORY OF THE
The year 1790 had just commenced, and a general agitation began
to be perceptible. Three tolerably quiet months had passed since
the 5th and 6th of October, and the commotioa seemed to be break-
ing out anew. Violent storms are always followed by calms, and
these calms by petty gusts, which gradually become more and more
vehement. These disturbances were laid to the charge of the clergy,
the nobility, the court, and even of England, who directed her amhas-
sador to justify her conduct. The paid companies of the national
guard were themselves infected with this general discontent. Some
soldiers assembled in the Champ Elysees, and demanded an increase
of pay. Lafayette, present every where, hastened to the spot, dis-
persed and punished them, and restored quiet among his troops,
who were still faithful, notwithstanding these slight interruptions of
discipline.
There were great rumours of a plot against the Assembly and the
municipality, the supposed ringleader of which was the Marquis de
Favras.* He was apprehended, with circumstances of public noto-
riety, and sent to the Chatelet. It was immediately reported that
Bailly and Lafayette were to have been assassinated; that twelve
them to refuse their compliance. It was, nevertheless, embarrassing to assign a
motive for their refusal ; and the Queen, to whom difficult commissions were fre-
quently allotted, was directed to tell M. de Lafayette that the proposal of the munici-
pality was not acceded to. The motive which she alleged was, that the King would
not expose the life-guards to the risk of being murdered. M. de Lafayette had just
met one of them walking in uniform in the Palais Royal. He mentioned this fact to
the Queen, who was still more embarrassed, but persisted in the determination which
she was charged to express.
# " The Marquis de Favras, formerly lieutenant of Monsieur's Swiss guards, was
condemned by the Chatelet of Paris, on the 18th of February, 1790, for having en-
deavoured to excite a counter-revolutionary project, and for having intended to at1
tempt the life of Lafayette, Bailly, and Necker, and to carry off the King and the
royal family. He was born at Blois; devoted himself from his earliest youth to the
service, and went into the musketeers in 1755. In 1761 he obtained a company of
dragoons in the regiment of Belsunce; and served with distinction in the campaigns
of 1762 and 1763, after which he was appointed adjutant. In 1772 be acquired the
office of first lieutenant of Monsieur's Swiss, which conferred the rank of colonel.
In 1786 he went to Vienna to get his wife legitimatized, as only daughter of the
Prince of Anhalt-Schaumberg. In 1787 he commanded a legion in Holland, at the
time of the insurrection against the Stadtholder. In 17iX) he was accused of having
plotted, at Paris, against the Revolution; of bavins wauled to introduce armed men
into Paris by night, in order to destroy the three principal heads of the administration;
of attacking the King's guard; of taking away the seals of the state; and even of car-
rying off the King and his family to Veronne. He was summoned before the Cha-
telet, and repelled all the accusations brought against him; but his denials did not
prevent the judges from condemning him. The announcement of his sentence did
not shake his fortitude ; he dictated his will with calmness, and paid great attention
to the style of it. Fnvras was executed on the 11th of February, 1790. On mount-
ing the scaffold he desired to be heard, and, addressing himself to the people, said,
• Cttizena, I am about to appear before God; I cannot be suspected of Iviiur at this
dreadful monent; well, then, I swear to you before Heaven, that I am not guilty.
Do your office.' added he, addressing the executioner. The people showed the great-
est fury against this victim, who was sacrificed to the policy of the moment. During
the trial, groups of furious persons made the environs of the Chatelet echo with cries
of Favras to the lamp-post!' Monsieur was no talked of among the populace as the
principal person in this affair, that he thought proper to go the town-Hall and publicly
disavow the plots ascribed to him. The Assembly seemed persuaded of the truth of
theae denials." — Biographic Modcrne. £.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. I05
hundred horse were ready at Versailles to carry off the King ; that
nn army, composed of Swiss and Piedmontese, was to receive him,
bid to march to Paris. The alarm spread. It was added that
Favras was the secret agent of the highest personages. Suspicion
v, t- directed to Monsieur, the King's brother. Favras hud been in
, mis, and moreover had negotiated a loan in his behalf. Mou-
. alarmed at the agitation which prevailed, repaired to the H6tel
de Ville, protested against the insinuations thrown out against him,
explained his connexion with Favras, appealed to his popular senti-
ments formerly manifested in the Assembly of the Notables, and
desired that he might be judged, not from public rumours, but from
Ills known and unswerving patriotism.* His speech was received
with shouts of applause, and the crowd escorted him back to his
residence.
The trial of Favras was continued. This Favras had run all over
Europe, married a foreign princess, and been devising plans for
retrieving his fortunes. He had been engaged in them on the 14th
of July, on the oth and 6th October, and in the last months of 1789.
The witnesses who accused him furnished precise particulars of his
last scheme. The murder of Bailly and Lafayette, and the abduction
of the King, appeared to form part of this scheme ; but there was no
proof that the twelve hundred horse were in readiness, or that the
Swiss and Piedmontese army -was in motion. Circumstances were far
from favourable to Favras. The Chattelet had just liberated Besenval
and the other persons implicated in the plot of the 14th of July :
public opinion was dissatisfied. Lafayette nevertheless encouraged
the gentlemen of the Chatelet, exhorted them to be just, and assured
them that their sentence, be it what it might, should be executed.
This trial revived the suspicions against the court. These new
schemes caused it to be deemed incorrigible ; for, even in the midst ot
Paris, it was still seen conspiring. The King was therefore advised
to take a decisive step, which should satisfy public opinion.
On the 4th of February, 1790, the Assembly was surprised to per-
ceive some alterations in the arrangement of the hall. The steps of
the bureau were covered with a carpet sprinkled with the fleurs-de-lis.
The arm-chair of the Secretaries was lowered; the president was
* The speech of Monsieur at the Hotel de Ville contains a passage too important
not to be quoted here.
•■ As to my private opinions," said this august personage, " I shall speak of them
with confidence to my fellow-citizens. Ever since the day that, in the second As-
sembly of .Notables, I declared my sentiments respecting the fundamental question
which divided people's minds, I have not ceased to believe that n great revolution wi -
at hand : that the King, by his intentions, his virtues, and his supreme rank, (Might '<■
iiead of it, since it could not be beneficial to the nation without being -
>-o tu the monarch ; in short, that the royal authority ought to bo the rampart of the na-
tional liberty, and the national liberty the basis of the royal authority. I r!>
vou to produce a single one of my actions, a single one of my expressions, whir -
itrailicted these principles, which has shown that, in whatcircum-Jtane.'-
1 have been placed, the happiness of the King and that of the people have center! t"
tola object of my thoughts and my views. I have dierefore a risht to
n my word. I never have changed my sentiments and prin
never will change them."
126 HISTORY OF THE
standing beside the seat which he usually occupied. u Here is the
King!" suddeuly exclaimed the door-keepers; and Louis XVI. in-
stantly entered the hall. The Assembly rose at his appearance, and
he was received with applause. A concourse of spectators, quickly
collected, filled the tribunes, thronged all parts of the hall, and awaited
the royal speech with the utmost impatience. Louis XVI., standing,
addressed the seated Assembly : he began by referring to the troubles
to which France had fallen a prey, the efforts which he had made
to allay them, and to supply the wants of the people ; he reca-
pitulated the proceedings of the representatives, observing that he
had attempted the same things in the provincial assemblies ; lastly,
he showed that he had himself formerly the very same wishes which
had just been realized. He added, that he deemed it his duty to unite
more particularly with the representatives of the nation at a moment
when decrees destined to establish a new organization in the kingdom
had been submitted to him. He would promote, he said, with all his
power, the success of that vast organization ; every attempt hostile to
it should be held culpable, and opposed with all his means. At these
words, the hall rang with plaudits. The King continued ; and, re-
ferring to his own sacrifices, he exhorted all those who had been losers
to take example from his resignation, and to indemnify themselves for
their losses by the blessings which the new constitution promised to
France. But when, after vowing to defend that constitution, he added,
that he would do so still more, and that, in concert with the Queen, he
would early predispose the mind and heart of his son in favour of the
new order of things, and accustom him to seek happiness in the hap-
piness of the French, cries of attachment burst forth from all quar-
ters— all hands were outstretched towards the monarch, all eyes looked
for the mother and her son, all voices asked for them : the transport was
universal. At length the King concluded his speech, by recommend-
ing peace and concord to his good people, by whom he is assured that
he is loved when those around him wish to cheer him up under his trou-
bles* At these last words all present burst forth into exclamations of
* The speech of the King on this occasion is too remarkable not to be quoted,
with some remarks. That excellent and too unfortunate prince was in a continual
hesitation, and, at certain times, he perceived very clearly bit own duties and die
faults of the court. The tone which pervades the speech delivered by him on tin- I'h
of February proves sulHciently that m this instance his words were not prompted,
and that he expressed himself with a due sense of his actual situation.
" Gentlemen, the critical circumstances in which France is placed, bring me among
you. The progressive relaxation of all the bonds of order and subordination, the sus-
pension or the inactivity of justice, the discontents arising from individual pri
the unfortunate oppositions and animosities which are the inevitable conseque:
long dissensions, the critical state of the finances, and the uncertainty reaper
public fortune; in short, the general agitation of minds, all seem to concur in i
uneasiness in the true friends to the prosperity and happiness of the kingdom.
" A grind «nj is presented to your view, but it is requisite that it be attained
without any increase of agitation and without new convulsions. It wu, I mo
in a more agreeable and a moro quiet manner that I hoped to lead you to it when I
formed the design of assembling you, and of bringing together for the public wel-
fare the talents and the opinions of the representatives of the nation : but my happi
ness and my glory are not the less closely connected with the success of your labour*.
" I have protected them by incessant vigilance from the baneful influence which the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 127
gratitude. The president made a short reply, in which he adverted
to the distli/bed feelingfl which prevailed in all hearts. Tli<: prinei;
was conducted hack to the Tuilleries by the multitude. The Am in-
bly voted thanks to him and to the Queen. A new idea was started ;
disastrous circumstances amidst which you are placed might have upon you. Tl>e
r which the former state of the finances, the discredit, the extreme scarcity of
specie, and the gradual decrease of the revenue, must naturally produce: this disor-
der, at least in its vehemence and its excessess, has hitherto been prevented. 1 have
■here mitigated, and particularly in the capital, the dangerous boutiqueiicea
of the want of employment, and, notwithstanding the decay of the means of autho-
rity, I have maintained the kingdom, not in the quiet which I could have wished —
very far from it — but in a state of tranquillity sufficient to receive the blessing of a
wise and well-regulated liberty. Lastly, notwithstanding our generally known situa-
tion at home, and notwithstanding the political storms which are agitating other na-
tions, I have preserved peace abroad, and kept up with all the powers of Europe the
relations of good-will and amity, which are capable of rendering that peace more
durable.
•• After having thus preserved you from great calamities, which might so easily
have thwarted your efforts and your labours, I think the time is come wnen it is of
importance to the interests of the state that I should associate myself, in a more ex-
1 1 manifest manner, in the execution and success of all that you have planned
lor the benefit of France. I cannot seize a more signal occasion than that when you
submit to my acceptance decrees destined to establish anew organization in the king-
dom, which must have so important and so propitious an influence on the happiness
of my subjects, and on the prosperity of this empire.
• You know, gentlemen, it is more than ten years ago that, at a time when the
of the nation relative to provincial assemblies had not yet been expressed, I
to substitute that kind of administration for the one, which ancient and long
habit bad sanctioned. Experience having taught me that I have not erred in the
opinion which I had formed of the utility of these establishments, I strove to extend
the same benefit to all the provinces of my kingdom ; and, in order to insure gen-
eral confidence to the new administrations, I determined that the members who were
to compose them should be freely elected by all the citizens. You have improved
upon these views in several ways; and the most essential, no doubt, is that equal
and wisely-calculated subdivision, which, by breaking down the ancient partitions
!i province and province, and establishing a general and complete system of
equilibrium, more intimately unites all the parts of the kingdom in one and the
same spirit, and one and the same interest. This grand idea, this salutary design,
are entirely your own. it required nothing less than a union of opinions on the part
of the representatives of the nation; it required nothing less than their just ascen-
dency over the general sentiments, to undertake with confidence a change of such
vast importance, and to vanquish in the name of reason the opposition of habit and
of private interests."
All that the King here says is perfectly just and sincere. It is true that he had
formerly attempted all the improvements of his own accord, and that he had set a rare
example among princes — that of anticipating the wants of their subjects. The com-
mendations which he bestows on the new territorial division bear also the character
of entire sincerity, for it was certainly beneficial to the government, by destroying the
opposition which particular localities had frequently made to it. Every thing induces
us therefore to believe that the King here speaks with perfect sincerity. He proceeds :
•' I will promote, I will second, by all the means in my power, the success of that
.ranization, on which depends the welfare of France ; and I think it necessary
to observe, that I am too attentive to the internal condition of the kingdom, my eyes
are too open to the dangers of all kinds by which we are encompassed, not to be
deeply sensible that, in the present disposition of minds, and considering the actual
state of public affairs, it is requisite that a new order of things should be established
quietly and peaceably, or the kingdom may be exposed to all the calamities of
anarchy.
" Let well-disposed citizens reflect on this, as I have done, fixing their attention ex-
clusively on the welfare of the state, and they will perceive, even in spite of the in-
ference of opinion, that a paramount interest must this day unite them all. Time
123 HISTORY OF THE
Louis XVI. had engaged to uphold the constitution ; it was fitting tint
the deputies should bind themselves to do the same. The ciric oath
was therefore proposed, and every deputy came forward to swear to be
faithful to the nation, to the law, and to the King ; and to uphold icith
will remedy what may yet remain defective in the collection of the laws which shall
have been the work of this Assembly."
This indirect and delicate censure proves that the King had no intention to flatter.
but to speak the truth, observing at the same time the necessary measure.
" But every enterprise that should tend to shake the principles of the constitution
itself, all concert that should aim at overthrowing them or diminishing their be n<-ti<ii!
influence, would serve only to introduce among us the frightful evils of discord ;
and, supposing such an attempt against my people and myself to be successful, the
result would deprive us of the various blessings of which a new order of tilings
holds out a prospect to us, without supplying any substitute.
" Let us then confidently indulge the hopes which we are justified in conceiving,
and let us think of realizing them only by unanimity. Let it be known every \\ h-i
that the monarch and the representatives of the nation are united in the same interest
and in the same wish; in order that this opinion, this firm belief, may diffuse dtfoagh
the provinces a spirit of peace and good will, and that all citizens distini:ui-h< d tor
their honesty, all those who are capable of rendering the state essential service bj
their zeal and their talents, may be solicitous to take part in the different subdivisions
of the general administration, the unanimity of which must efficaciously concur in the
re-, -tablishment of order, and in the prosperity of the kingdom.
" We must not disguise it from ourselves ; there is much to be done to rearh that
goal. A persevering determination, a general and common effort, are absolutely ne-
cessary to obtain real success. Continue your labours, then, without any other pas-
sion than that of doing good; keep your chief attention constantly fixed on the con-
dition of the people, and on the public liberty; but direct it also to the means of
soothing, of tranquillizing, all jealousies, and put an end as speedily as possible to the
different alarms which keep so many of her citizens aloof from France, and lb<
of which is in such contrast with the laws of safety and liberty that you are d
of establishing: prosperity will not return without the general consent Wepereei\e
on every side hopes; be impatient to see also on every side happiness.
" Some day, I fondly believe, every Frenchman without exception will ark no w-
ledge the benefit of the total suppression of the differences of order and condition;
when they have to labour in common for the public welfare, for the prosperity of
the country which equally interests all the citizens ; and every one must see without
difficulty that, in order to be called henceforward to serve the state in BUY manner,
it will be sufficient for a man to have rendered himself remarkable by his talents
and by his virtues.
" At the same time, however, all that reminds a nation of the antiquity and the
continuity of the services of an honoured race is a distinction that nothing can de-
stroy; and, as it is united with the duties of gratitude, those who in all classes of so-
ciety aspire to serve their country efficaciously, and those who have already bad
the happiness to do so, have an interest in respecting this transmission of titles or of
recollections, the fairest of all the inheritances that can be bequeathed to ones
children.
" Neither must the respect due to the ministers of religion be allowed to l>
away ; and when their consideration shall be principally united to the sacred truths
which are under the safeguard of order and morality, all honest and cnlig
citizens will have an equal interest in upholding and defending it.
" No doubt those who ham relinquished their pecuniary privileges, those icJio will »"
ttmgmrform, as of old. an order in the slate, find themselves subjected to sacrifices, tlte im-
portance of which I fully appreciate; but I am persuaded that they will hace generosity
enough to seek an indemnification in all the public advantages of which the establishment
of national assemblies holds out a hope."
The King continues, as the reader perceives, to impress upon all parties the advan
tages of the new laws, and at the same time the necessity of retaining something of
: lit. What he says to the privileged classes proves his real opinion i
ing the necessity and justice of the sacrifices that had been required of them, and
tii >ir resistance will be everlastingly condemned by the words contained in this
I REVOLUTION. 129
all his power the constitution decreed by the National Assembly, anil
accepted by the King. The supplementary members, the deputies of
commerce, desired to take the oath in their turn ; the tribunes and Hie
frulleries followed their example, and on all sides nothing was to be
heard but the words, / swear it.
speech. Itwould be vain to urge that the King was not free: the care which he btTO
i balance the concessions, counsels, dud even reproaches, proves that he spoke
■tneeNiy. He expressed himself very c'ritferently when, some time afterwards, he
wished to give notoriety to the state of restraint in which he conceived himself to he
His letter to the ambassadors, quoted hereafter, will sufficiently prove this. The
thoroughly popular exaggeration which pervades it demonstrates the intention to
appear to be no longer free. But the moderation of what he says here leaves no
room for doubt, and what follows is so touching, so delicate, that it is impossible not
to have been felt by him, who had made up his mind to write and to deliver it.
" I too should have losses to enumerate, if. amidst the most important interests of
the state, I could dwell upon personal calculations; but I find a compensation, that
- me, a full and entire compensation, in the increase of the national happiness;
and this sentiment comes from the very bottom of my heart.
•• 1 will defend, therefore, I will uphold, constitutional liberty, the principles of
which the public wish, in accordance with mine, has sanctioned. J will doinorr • ami
rt with the queen, who shares all my sent intents, J will early adapt the :nind anil
heart of my son to tlie ww order of things which circumstances have brought about. I
will accustom him, from his very first years, to seek happiness in the happiness ofthr
French, and ever to acknowledge that, in spite of the language of flatterers, a wis-
constitution will preserve him from the dangers of inexperience, and that a just liberty
adds a new value to the sentiments of affection and loyalty, of which the nation has
for so many ages given such touching proofs to its kings.
,; I dare not doubt that, in completing your work, you will provide with wisdom
and candour for the firm establishment of the executive power, that condition without
which there cannot exist any durable order at home, or any consideration abroad. No
distrust can reasonably be leA you : it is therefore your duty, as citizens and as (Uitli-
ful representatives of the nation, to ensure to the welfare of the state, and to the
public liberty, that stability which can proceed only from an active and tutelary
authority. Von will surely bear in mind that, without such an authority, all the
parts of your constitution will remain at once without bond and without correspond
ence : and, in turning your attention to liberty, which you love, and which I love
also, you will not lose sight of this truth, that disorder in administration, by produ-
cing a confusion of powers, frequently degenerates, through blind violence, into the
most dangerous and the most alarming of all tyrannies.
" Thus, not for my sake, gentlemen, who weigh not what is personal to myself
against the laws and institutions which are to regulate the destiny of the empire, but
for the very happiness of our country, for its prosperity, for its power, I exhort von
to rid yourselves of all the impressions of the moment, which could divert you from
considering in its totality what such a kingdom as France requires, both on account
of its great extent, its immense population, and its inevitable relations with foreigu
countries.
"Neither will you neglect to turn your attention to what is required of legislators
by the manners, the character, and the habits, of a nation that has become too famous
m Europe, from the nature of its understanding and genius, for it to appear matter of
indifference whether you uphold or undermine in it those sentiments of kindness,
confidence, and generosity, which have gained it so much renown.
" Set it also an example of that spirit of justice which serves as a safeguard to pro-
perty, to that right respected by all nations, which is not the work of chance, which
springs not from the privileges of opinion, but which is closely connected with the
most essential relations of public order, and with the first conditions of social har-
mony.
" By what fatality is it that, when tranquillity began to be restored, fresh distur-
bances have spread over the provinces? By what fatality is it that fresh outrages nre
there perpetrated ! Join with me in putting a stop to them, and let us exert all our
efforts to prevent criminal excesses from sullying these days in which the felicitr of
the nation is preparing. You who possess so many means of influencing public
VOL. I. 17
130 HISTORY OF THE
The oath was repeated at the Hfitel de Ville, and by commune aftei
commune throughout France. Rejoicings ere ordered, which ap-
peared to be general and sincere. This was certainly a fair occasion
for the court to commence a new line of conduct, instead of frustrating
this, as all previous advances towurds a reconciliation on the part of
the people ; but, the very same evening, while Paris was in a blaze
with bonfires kindled to celebrate the happy event, the court had he-
taken itself again to its ill-humour, and the popular deputies experi-
enced from it a reception wholly different from that which was reserv-
ed for the noble deputies. In vain did Lafayette, whose advice wan
replete with good sense and zeal, repeat to the court, that the King
could no longer' waver, and that he ought to attach himself altogether
to the popular party, and strive to win its confidence; that fortius
purpose it was requisite that his intentions should not only be pro-
claimed to the Assembly, but that they should be manifested by his
minutest actions ; that he ought to show displeasure at every e\|
sion in the least degree equivocal, used in his presence, and reprove the
slightest doubt thrown out as to his real sentiments ; that he ought to
show neither restraint nor dissatisfaction, nor to leave nny secret hope
to the aristocrats ; and lastly, that the ministers ought to he united,
instead of entering into rivalship with the Assembly, and obliging it to
have recourse incessantly to the public opinion. In vain did Lafay-
ette repeat these prudent counsels with respectful earnestness : the
King received his letters and thought him an honest man ; the Queen
repulsed them with petulnnce, and even seemed to be irritated hv the
respect paid by the general. She gave a much better reception to Mi-
confidence, enlighten, in regard to its true interests, that people wliich pains are taken to
mislead; that good people which is so dear to me, and by which I am assured that I r.ni
loved when" those around me wish to cheer me up under my troubles. Ah ! if il but km w
how unhappy I feel at the news of an attack upon property, or an act of viol
against persons, perhaps it would spare inethis severe infliction.
" I cannot address you on the great interests of the state without urging you to
bestow your attention, in a serious and definitive manner, on all that relates to the
re-establishment of order in the finances, and to the tranquillity of the innumerublc
multitude of citizens who are connected by some tie with the public fortune.
" It is time to allay all apprehensions; it is time to confer on this kingdom the
strength of credit which it has a right to claim. You cannot undertake every tiling
at once ; accordingly, I invite you to reserve for other times part of the benefits
which the assemblage of yourtalents pictures to your view; but when you shall have
added to what you have already accomplished a wise and rational plan for the I
cisc of justice; when you shall have firmly laid the foundations of a perfect eipiili
brium between the revenue and die expenditure of the state; lastly, when yon
shall have completed the work of the constitution, you will have acquired strong
claims to public gratitude; and, in the successive continuation of the national as-
semblies, a continuation founded henceforward on that very constitution, there
will be nothing more to do than to add, from year to yoar, new means of prosperity.
May this day, on whirh your Sovereign comes to unite with you in the m— 1 frank
and cordial manner, be a memorable epoch in the history of this empire .' It will be
so, I hope, if my ardent wishes, if my earnest exhortations can be a signal of p.
and of reconciliation between you. Lit tlwse who would still keep aloof from a spirit
of concord that is become so necessary, make a sacrifice to me of all the recollections which
afflict them ; I will repay them with my gratitude, anil my affection.
" Profess, all of you, from this day forward; profess, all of you — and I will set the
example — but one opinion, but one interest, but one will, attachment to the new con-
stitution, and an ardent desire for the peace, the happiness and the prosperity of
France."
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
131
rnheau, who possessed more influence, but was certainly n man of less
irreproachable character, than Lafayette.
The communications of Miralieau with the court still continued.
He had even kept up an intercourse with Monsieur, whose opinions
rendered him more accessible to the popular party, and lie had re-
peated to him what he never ceased to tell the Queen and M. de
Moiitmorin, that the monarchy could not be saved unless by liberty.
Miraheau at length came to terms with the court by means of an in-
termediate agent. He declared his principles in a kind of profession
of faith ; he engaged not to swerve from them, and to support the
court so long as it should follow the same line. A considerable sala-
ry was given to him in return. Morality indeed condemns such trea-
ties, and insists that a man ought to do his duty for the sake of duty
alone. Hut was this selling himself? A weak man would no doubt
have sold himself by sacrificing his principles ; but the mighty Mirn-'
beau, so far from sacrificing his, brought power over to the court, and
received from it that aid which his urgent necessities and his licentious
pa—ions rendered indispensable to him. Unlike those who give up
for a high price mean talents and a cowardly conscience, Mirabeau,
inflexible in his principles, combated by turns his own party and the
court, as if he had not expected popularity from the former, or the
means of existence from the latter. To such a point was this oppo-
sition carried, that historians, unable to believe him an ally of the
court which he combated, have not fixed the date of his treaty earlier
than the year 1791, though it was concluded in the very first months
of 1790. Mirabeau saw the Queen, charmed her by his superiority,
and experienced from her a reception that flattered him exceedingly.*
* Previously to this interview, the Queen, though she dreaded his power, held
Mirabeau in the utmost detestation, as appears from the following anecdote which
the Duchess d' Abrantes has related in her Memoirs : " On the 7th of May, 1789, the
Q,ueen was informed of -Mirabeau's hostile intentions. M. Necker was consulted
about the expediency of entering into a negociation with him ; and his opinion was,
that Mirabeau was possessed of extraordinary talent, but wanted judgment ; and M.
Necker considered him not very formidable. He therefore declined to have any
tiling to do with the matter, and merely yielded to the Queen's wish to place at her
disposal a sum of money to assist the execution of her designs. Furnished with his
instructions and a well-stocked purse, the Count de Reb — went one morning to Mi-
rabeau, plied him with much art, and finally made him offers which he felt confident
he would not hesitate to accept. But fate ordained that the man who had always
been needv and tormented by creditors, should be at that moment well supplied with
money. What was the result? He rejected the Count de Reb— 's offer, and asked
him tor whom he took him. He thus dismissed the count with all the dignity of
an ancient Greek, telling him that oilers of money could not be listened to by him.
The count, though chagrined, did not lose hope. He knew Mirabeau well enough,
and was sure he would not remain long in his present frame of mind. Shortly
afterwards, a certain M. Jouvelet called on the Count de Reb—, and announced
to him that Mirabeau consented to place all his influence at the disposal of the court,
but required an honourable treaty and not a paltry bargain; that he did not wish to
supersede M. Necker, but that any other department of the ministry would suit him.
On these terms he would devote himself to the court. The count, on hearing this,
went to Mirabeau, was well received, and heard all the reasons he gave for his readi-
ness to sacrifice himself by entering the ministry at such a moment. The same day,
the count saw the individual who was to speak to the Queen; and he, on the first
intelligence of the capitulation of Mirabeau — for he was really a tower of strength — ran
immediately to acquaint her majesty with the news. The Count de Reb — followed.
132 HISTORY OF THE
That extraordinary man had a keen relish for all pleasures, for those
of vanity as well as for those of the passions. It was necessary to
take him with his strength and his foibles, and to employ him for tin*
benefit of the common cause. Besides Lafayette and Mirubeau, the
court relied on Bouille, whom it is time to introduce to the reader.0
Bouilhf, full of courage, integrity, and talent, had all the prejudices
of the aristocracy, and was distinguished from it only by less infatua-
tion and more experience in business. Having retired to Metz, where
he commanded a vast extent of frontier and a great part of the arm v,
he strove to foment jealousies between his troops and the national
guard, in order that he might keep his soldiers steady to the court.t
Placed there on the watch, he scared the popular party ; he seemed
the general of the monarchy, as Lafayette was the general of the con-
stitution. The aristocracy nevertheless displeased him, the weakness
of the King disgusted him with the service, and he would have quitted
it had he not been pressed by Louis XVI. to continue in it. BouilI6
and when he entered the royal cabinet, the Queen advanced towards him, her coun-
tenance beaming with pleasure. ' The King will be gratified by your zeal, Monsieur,
said she to the plenipotentiary : ' well, had you a good bargain of this mi ? How
much has he cost?' He replied that Mirabeau, with true magnanimity, had rejected
all propositions of a pecuniary nature. He then mentioned the appointment to the min-
istry. At this the Queen reddened, and then turned deadly pale. She closed her
and striking her forehead with her hand, exclaimed, 'A minister! Make RiqaeVi Mini-
beau a minister! Never, never will I allow the threshold of the King's council to be
sullied by the footsteps of such a man !' She trembled with rage. ' Let him have money
— grant him all he asks for; but to make him a minister! Is it possible that mv friends
can give me this advice?' She then paced the room with every mark of agitation, re-
peating the words, ' A minister, fotsooth ! a minister!' The negotiation was conse-
quently broken off for a season; for Mirabeau would not accept money, and the
Queen would not, till long afterwards, consent to grant him an interview." |'..
* "The Marquis de Bouille was a gentleman of Auvergne, and a relative of La-
fayette's. After having served in the dragoons, he became colonel of the regiment
of Vexin infantry. Having attained the rank of major-general, the Kin:; appointed
him Governor-general of the Windward Islands. In 1778 he took Dmiiiima, St.
Eustatia. and soon after St. Christopher's, Nevis, and Montserrat. On his return he
was made lieutenant-general. In 1789 he brought back to its duty the revolted gar-
rison of Metz. On the 5th of September, in the same year, Grcgoire complained
to the Assembly, that M. de Bouille had not administered the civic oath individually,
and obtained a decree that he should be obliged to do it. In 1790 he was comma-
sioned to bring under subjection the garrison of Nancy, which had risen against its
chiefs; he advanced upon the town with four thousand men, and succeeded in this
enterprise, in which he showed much bravery, and which at first gained him great
praises from the National Assembly, and afterwards as many reproaches. !'.■
chosen by the Kingto facilitate his escape from Paris in June. 17'.U. Bouille man
at the head of a body of troops to protect the passage of the royal family; but, by
false advices or ill-executed orders, this enterprise failed, and M. de Bouille had g
difficulty in leaving France. From Luxemburg he wrote to the Assembly a letter
full of threats, and concluded by saying, that if a hair of Louis XVI.'s head wa<
touched, he would not leave one stone on another in Paris. On the 13th of July
the Assembly decreed that he should be tried for contumacy, and that the paper* rel-
ative to the King's escape should be sent to the high court of the nation. From Vienna,
whither he had first gone, Bouille passed to the court of Sweden, which gave him
ployment. and in the name of which he promised powerful assistance to the French
princes. After the death ofGustavus HI. M. de Bouille went to England, when ha
published some valuable papers on the Revolution. He died in London iu 180:'.'
Iliojgrtifhut Modernr 11.
t This he admits himself in his Memoira.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 133
mH full of honour. After taking his oath, he thought of nothing but
how to serve the King and the constitution. The court, therefore,
led hut to unite Lafayette, Mirabeau, and Bouille; and through
thoin it would have had the national guards, the Assembly, and the
arniv, that is to say, the three powers of the day. Some motives, it is
true, divided these three personages. Lafayette, full of good nature,
was ready to unite with all who were desirous of serving the King and
the constitution ; but Mirabeau was jealous of Lafayette's power,
dreaded his purity, which was so highly extolled, and seemed to re-
gard it as a reproach. Bouille hated in Lafayette his enthusiastic cha-
racter, and perhaps viewed in him an irreproachable enemy ; he pre-
ferred Mirabeau, whom he deemed more manageable and less rigo-
rous in his political creed. It was for the court to unite these three
men by removing their particular motives for keeping aloof from each
other. Hut there was only one bond of union, a free monarchy.
The court ought therefore to have frankly resigned itself to this only
course, and to have followed it up with all its might. But the court,
ever unsteady, received Lafayette coldly, without repulsing him ; paid
Mirabeau, who lectured it from time to time ; kept up Bouille's dis-
like of the Revolution ; looked to Austria with hope; and suffered the
emigrants at Turin to take active measures. Such is the way with
weakness. It strives to delude itself with hopes rather than to ensure
success, and in this manner it ultimately ruins itself by exciting sus-
picions which irritate parties as much as decided opposition. It is
much better to strike than to threaten them.
In vain Lafayette, who would fain have done what the court ne-
glected to do, wrote to Bouille, his kinsman, exhorting him to serve
the throne jointly with himself, and by the only possible means, those
of frankness and liberty. Bouille, at the evil instigation of the court,
replied coldly and evasively, and, without attempting any thing against
the constitution, he continued to render himself formidable by the
secrecy of his intentions and the strength of his army.
The reconciliation of the 4th of February, which might have led to
such important results, was therefore useless. The trial of Favras
was concluded, and, whether from fear or from a conviction of his
guilt, the Chatelet sentenced hi in to be hanged. Favras displayed in
his last moments a firmness more worthy of a martyr than of an intri-
guer. He protested his innocence, and demanded permission to make
a declaration before he died. The scaffold was erected in the Place
d • Grrere. He was conveyed to the Hotel de Ville, where he remain-
ed till night Tin- populace, eager to see a marquis hanged, impa-
tiently awaited this example of equality in punishments. Favras re-
! that be had held communications with a high dignitary of the
state, who had engaged him to dispose the public mind favourably to-
wards the Kin/. As this would have put him to considerable expense,
the personage in question had given him one hundred louis, which la-
had accepted. He affirmed that this was the whole extent of his
crime ; and lie mentioned no names. He afeked, however, if the con-
fession of names could save him. Not satisfied with the answer that
was returned, " In that case," said he, " I will take my secret with
134 HISTORY OF THE
me ;" and he walked with great firmness, towards the place of execu-
tion. It was night : the Pluce and the gihbet itself were lighted up.
The populace enjoyed the sight, delighted to find equality even on the
scaffold. It was to them a subject for cruel jests ; and they parodied
in various ways the execution of this unfortunate man. The body of
Favras was delivered to his family, and fresh events soon caused his
death to be forgotten alike by those who had punished and those who
had employed him.
The exasperated clergy continued to excite petty disturbances
throughout France. The nobility relied much upon its influence among
the people. So long as the Assembly had proceeded no further than
by a decree to place ecclesiastical property at the disposal of the na-
tion, the clergy had hoped that the decree would not be carried into
execution ; and, in order to render it useless, it proposed a variety of
plans for supplying the wants of the exchequer. The Abbe Maury*
had proposed a tax on luxury, and the Abbe Salside had replied, by
* "Jean Siffrein Maury, prior of Lyons, abbot of La Frenade, and King's preach*
it, was born at Vabreas, in the county of Avignon, on the 26th of June, 1746, of a
family engaged in commerce, and in the law. He came very young to Paris, where
his talent for preaching gained him several benefices, and he acquired reputation and
a seat in the Academy, by his sermons and panegyrics previous to the Revolution : at
which period he employed all his eloquence in defence of the monarchy. It has been
observed that he is almost the only person whom this line of conduct has not led to
indigence or death. In 1789 the clergy of Peronne deputed him to the States-Gene-
ral, where he displayed eloquence, erudition, and a talent for extempore speaking,
which rendered him formidable to the opposite party. In the chamber of the clergy
he strongly objected to the union of the orders, and when it was effected, he for some
time abandoned Versailles, and was arrested at Peronne, but soon released by order
of the Assembly, in which he again appeared. On the 13th of October, the Abbe
Maury spoke eloquently in defence of the properly of the clergy, which it was pro-
posed to declare national. On the 9th of November, he occasioned a tremendous
commotion by accusing the president of exclusive partiality to the left side. On the
19th of December, he, supported by a great part of his order, protested against the
measure for making assignats payable from the property of the clergy. On the 23d,
he spoke with energy against the admission of Jews, executioners, and players, to the
rights of citizens, representing the two latter professions as infamous. On the 24th
of February, 1791, Maury made a vigorous attack on the motion for compelling the
King and the presumptive heir to the crown to reside near the legislative body, and
ended his speech by a shout of ' God save the King!' which was repeated by die
right side. On the 13th of May. be dimmed (be grv.it question concerning the ad-
mission of people of colour to the rights of citizens, which produced considerable
effect on the Assembly, and sained him the applause of all parties. Leaving France
after the Assembly closed, Maury went to Koine, where the Pope conferred on liiiu
the title of Bishop, and sont him to Frankfort in 1792 to assist as apostolic nuncio at
the coronation of the emperor. In 1792, after the 10th of August, the Legislative
Assembly passed a docre •■ of accusation against Maury; but it is worthy of remark
that, thongn one of the most zealous defenders of the monarchy and the clergy, he
was never an object of personal hatred to the populace. ' At least he does not
to betray us, but openly supports the cause he bus embraced,' said the people of the
capital. Maury's presence of mind was remarkable. On one occasion when a Pa-
risian mob pursued him, with the fatal cry of ' To the lamp-post !' he coolly turned
round and said, ' And when you have put me in the place of the lamp, do you ima-
gine you will see the better .'" A general langfa followed this remark, and Maury was
left unmolested. In 1793 he was appointed Archbishop of Nice, and the next year
he received the cardinal's lint. In the beginning of 1805, Maurv add re trad a letter
to Napoleon, in which he recognised the new government. Although he himself
escaped the scaffold by quitting France before the reign of the Jacobins, yet almost
the whole of Maury's family perished in one year." — hiagraphit Modern*. £.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 135
moving that no ecclesiastic should possess an income exceeding one
thousand crowns. The wealthy abb6 was silenced by such a proposal
On another occasion, in discussing the debt of the state, Cazalei bad
proposed to investigate, not the titles of each credit, but the credit itself
its origin, and its motive ; which would have been renewing bankrupt-
cy by the odious and worn-out expedient of chambres ardentes. The
clergy, inimical to the creditors of the state, to whom it deemed itself
sacrificed, had supported the proposal, notwithstanding the strictness
of its principles in regard to property. Maury had spoken with great
warmth, and had even violated the respect due to the Assembly, by
saying to some of its members that they had only the courage of shame.
The Assembly had taken offence at this expression, and thought of
expelling him. But Mirabeau, who had reason to suppose that the
attack was aimed at him, represented to his colleagues that each depu-
ty belonged to his constituents, and that they had no right to exclude
any individual. This moderation befitted real superiority. It was
successful, and Maury was more severely punished by a reprimand, than
be would have been by expulsion. All these expedients for putting
the creditors of the state in the same condition as themselves, were
useless to the clergy; and the Assembly decreed the sale of property
belonging to the crown and the church to the amount of four hundred
millions.
The clergy, rendered desperate, then circulated writings among the
people, and declared that the plan of the revolutionists was to attack
the Catholic religion. It was in the southern provinces that it hoped
to be most successful. We have seen that the first emigration had
directed its course towards Turin. It was with Provence and Lan-
guedoc that its principal communications were kept up. Calonne,
so celebrated at the time of the Notables,* was the minister of the
* " M. Calonne was the third who had succeeded to the office of comptroller of the
finances from the dismissal of M. Necker. He was confessedly a man of ability, and
had filled successively the office of intendant of Metz, and of the province of Flanders
and Artois. The public, however, saw with disgust and apprehension the wealth of
the nation fall into the hands of a man who had dilapidated his own patrimony; who,
inconsiderate in character, and immoral upon system, had dishonoured his talents by
his vices, and his dignities by the baseness of his conduct; and who, while he exer-
cised the office of procureur-general of the parliament of Donay, had degraded him-
self so far as to act the spy of the minister with respect to the procureur-general of
the parliament of Bretagne. and had the insolence to sit as the judge of that respecta-
ble magistrate, whom he had calumniated ; and who, grown gray in the intrigues of
gallantry and of the court, came with a flock of needy sycophants to devour the reve-
nues of the nation under the pretence of administering them. The first part of the
career of M. Calonne was, notwithstanding, brilliant, but it was only a brilliant de-
ception. One of his first measures was to establish a sinking fund, which, by n kind
of ministerial juggle, was. in a certain course of years, to discharge the whole national
debt. It was even reported by his agents that he had discovered the miraculous se-
cret of paying off the debts of the nation by — borrowing!" — Impartial History of the
French Rerolution. E.
In the memoirs ascribed to the unfortunate Princess do Lamballe, it is asserted that
M. de Calonne took an active part in the publication of Madame de la Motte's work
uainct the. (Aueen, relative to the celebrated affair of the necklace. It is there said
OUk>, that Sheridan, having accidentally seen at a London bookcller's a copy of the
lirst edition corrected by a person in Paris, supposed to be one of the King's miui-ters
i\ rote to the Princess de Lamballe to inform her of the circumstance. A confidents'
136
HISTORY OF THE
fugitive court. That court was split into two parties. The high
nobility was solicitous to maintain its empire, and dreaded the inter-
ference of the provincial noblesse, and still more that of the bour-
geoisie. In consequence, it would have recourse to none but foreign
aid to re-establish the throne. Besides, to employ religion, as the
emissaries of the provinces proposed to do, appeared ridiculous to
men who had diverted themselves for a century with the pleasantries
of Voltaire.
The other party, composed of petty nobles and expatriated citi/.ens,
proposed to combat the passion ror liberty hv a still stronger passion,
fanaticism, — and to conquer single-handed, without laying itself
under obligation to foreigners. The former alleged the vindteiive
nature of civil war as an excuse for foreign interference. The hitter
maintained that the effusion of blood was inseparable from such war,
but that it ought not to be sullied by a treason. These men, D
courageous, more patriotic, but more ferocious than the others, coul 1
not possibly succeed in a court where Calonne ruled. As, however,
this court had need of every body, the communications betw
Turin and the southern provinces were continued. It was determined
to attack the revolution by foreign as well as by civil war, and to this
end an attempt was made to awaken the ancient fanaticism of I
countries.*
agent was sent to London to pnrclia.se this copy, wliirli was transmitted to the ' i
» and tlie additions and corrections were instantly recognised as the handwriting of
M. de Calonne. His dismissal from office was the immediate consequence.
* In order to convey a correct idea of the emigration, and the opinions which divi-
ded it, I cannot do better than quota the Memoirs of M. Fromont bhnselT. In a vo-
lume entitled Rccucil dc dicers Ecriis rdulifs a Ui involution, M. Fromont this expres-
ses himself (p. 4, et sea.) :
" I repaired secretly to Turin (January. 175)0) to the French princes, to solicit their
approbation and their support. In a council which was held on nnr arrival. I de-
monstrated to them that, if they tcould arm the jmftillUU of (fir altar and the throne, and
malic the interests of reJio'um go hand in haul villi those of royalty, it irould lie r-tsy In sure
botit. Though strongly attached to the faith of my forefathers, it was not upon ttrt
non-catholics that I proposed to make war. but upon the declared foes rtf Catholi-
cism and royalty, upon those who loudlv asserted that Jesus Christ and the Bourbons
had been talked of too Ions, upon those who wished to strangle the last ofkings
the intestines of the last of priests. The non-catholics trho continued faithful ti
monarchy have always found in me the most affectionate fellow-citizen, tb
Catholics the most implacable enemy.
" My plan tended solely to raise a party, and to iriv it all the extension and consis-
tency I could. The real argument of the revolutionists being fore-. I felt tint the
real answer was forca. Then, as at present, I w is convinced of this great irntl
a strong passion can be only stifled l.y a still stronger ; and that riligiaus zenl a/.nie ran
stifle tlie republican mania. The miracles which Bed tor rein-ion has since wrought
in La Vendee and in Spain prove that the philosophers and tho revolutionist* of all
parties would not have succi eded in establishing their anti-religious and anti -
system for a few years over the greater part of F.urope. had the minist ts of Loula
XVI. conceived such a plan as mine, or had it been sincerely adopted ami supported
by the advisers of the emigrant princes.
"But, unluckily, most of the persons who directed I.ouis XVT. and the pre
his house reasoned and acted only on philosophic principles, though the philosophers
and their disciples were the cause and the agwnta ef the Involution. Tiiev would
have fancied that they were ridiculous and dishonour^ if they had Uttered ih -
word religion, or had employed the powerful menus which it furnishes, and of which
the greatest politicians ol all ages have successfully availed themselves. While tlu
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 137
The clenry neglected no means of seconding*' this plan. Tin- Pro-
testants in those parts excited the envy of the Catholics. The clergy
took advantage of these dissensions, especially during the soU-nnii-
Nation.il Assembly strove to mislead the people, and to secure their confidence by
the suppression of feudal rights, of tithes, of the gabelle, &c., the monarchists proposed
to bring them back to. submission by an exposition of the incoherence of the new laws,
t>\ a picture of the misfortune* of the King, and by writings above their comprehen-
sion. Bv these means they hoped to revive in the hearts of all tin? French ;i |>;ire
and disinterested love for their sovereign ; they imagined that tin; clamours of the dis-
contented would stop the enterprises of the factions, and enable the King to proceed
direct to the goal which he was desirous of attaining. The worth of my advice was
probably rated according to my station in life, and the value placed by the grandees
of the court upon their titles and their wealth."
M. Fromont continues his narrative and in another place characterizes the parties
into which the fugitive court was divided, in the following manner (p. 33):
'• These honourable titles, and the attentions generally paid to me at Turin, would
have made me forget the past, and conceive the most flattering hopes for the future,
if I had discovered prudence in the advisers of the princes, and perfect harmony
aOMM those who had most influence on our affairs; but I observed with grief that
the emigration teas split into two parties, one of which would not attempt a counter-
revolution but by the aid of foreign powers, and the other but by the royalists of the
interior.
" The first party promised that, on the cession of certain provinces to the powers,
they would furnish the French princes with armies sufficiently numerous to reduce
the factions ; that in time it would he easy to withdraw the concessions which they
had been forced to make ; and that the court, by contracting no obligation to any of
the bodies of the. state, would be able to dictate laws to all the French The cour-
tiers trembled lest the nobility of the provinces and the royalists of the tiers-6tat should
have the honour of setting toe tottering monarchy upon its legs again. They were
aware that they would no longer be the dispensers of bounties and favours, and that
their reign would be at an end aa soon as the nobility of the provinces should have
re-established the royal authority at the expense of its blood, and thereby earned tho
gratitude and confidence of its sovereigu. Dread of this new order of things caused
them to unite, if not to dissuade the princes from employing in any way the royalists of
the interior, at least to persuade them to fix their attention principally on the cabinets of
Europe, and to induce them to found their greatest hopes on foreign assistance. In
consequence of this dread they secretly set at work the most efficacious means for ruin-
ing the internal resources, and for thwarting the proposed plan3, several of which were
calculated to effect the re-establishment of order, if they had been wisely directed and
supported. This is what I myself witnessed : this is what I will some day prove by
authentic facts and testimonies; hut the time is not yet come. In a conference held
about this very time on the subject of the advantage to be derived from the fa-
vourable disposition of the people of Lyons and Franche Comte, I stated without
reserve the means which ought to be employed, at the same time, to ensure the tri-
umph of the royalists of the Gevaudan, the Cevennes, the Vivarais, the Comtat- Ve-
il ii-sin. I„inguedoc, and Provence. In the heat of the discussion, the Marquis
d'Autichamp. m;'.reehal-de-camp, the great champion of the poicers. said to me, * But
will not the oppressed, and the relatives of the victims, seek to revenge themselves?'
— ' What signifies that,' said I, 'provide,! we attain our aim?' — ' See,' he exclaimed,
' how I have made him admit that private rewuge would be wreaked !' With some-
thing more than astonishment at this observation. I said to the .Marquis de Rou/.icre,
who sat next to me, 'I did not imagine that a civil war ought to resemble a mission
i liins.' Thus it was, that, by tilling princeswith the fear of rendering them-
sflves odious to their bitterest enemies, the courtiers induced them to adopt half-
m-.isiir- -s, Miili 'ieiit, no doubt, to provoke the zeal of the royalists of the interior, but
most inadequate, after compromising them, to protect them from the fury of the
fictions. Since that time I recollect that, while the army of the princes was in
rhimpigtie, M. de la Porte, aide-de-camp to the Marquis d'Autichamp, having taken
prisoner a republican, fancied, agreeably to the system of his general, that he should
bring him back to his duty by a pathetic exhortation, and by restoring to him bis arms
and bis liberty; but no sootier had the republican got to the distance of a few paces,
VOL. I. 18
133 HISTORY OF THE
lies of Easter. At Montpellier, at Nimes, at Montauban, the olJ
fanaticism was roused in all possible ways.
Charles Lameth complained in the tribune that the festival of
Easter had been abused for the purpose of misleading the people,
and exciting them against the new laws. At these words the clergy
rose, and would have quitted the Assembly. The Hishop of Clermont
threatened to do so, and a great number of ecclesiastics were already
on their legs, and about to retire, when Charle9 Lameth was called
to order, and the tumult subsided. Meanwhile the sale of the posses-
sions of the clergy was carried into execution. This was warmly
resented by them, and they omitted no Occasion of manifesting their
indignation.
Dom Gerle, a Carthusian, a man perfectly sincere in his religious
and patriotic sentiments, one day desired permission to speak, and
proposed that the Catholic religion should be declared the only reli-
gion of the state. A great number of deputies instantly rose, and
were ready to vote the motion by acclamntion, saying that the Assem-
bly had now an opportunity to clear itself from the charge preferred
against it of attacking the Catholic religion. Still, what was the ten-
dency of such a motion 1 It either aimed at giving a privilege to the
Catholic religion, and no religion ought to have any ; or it was the
declaration of a fact, namely, that the majority of the French were
Catholics — a fact which need not have been declared. Such a motion,
therefore, could not be entertained. Accordingly, in spite of the efforts
of the nobility and clergy, the debate was adjourned to the following
day. An immense crowd collected. Lafayette, apprized that evil-dis-
posed persons intended to excite disturbance, had doubled the guard.
The discussion commenced. An ecclesiastic threatened the Assein-
than he levelled his conqueror with the ground. The Marquis d'Autichamp, un-
mindful of the moderation which he had displayed at Turin, burned several vii.
to avenge the death of his imprudent missionary.
" Tim second party maintained tli:it, since the powers had mini times taken up
arms to humble the Bourbons, and in particular to prevent Louis XIV. from secu-
ring the crown of Spain for his grandson, so far from calling then to our aid, we
ought, on the contrary, to rekindle the zeal of the clergy, the devotion of the nobility,
the love of the people, for the King, and lose no time in guttling a family quarrel, it
which foreigners might, perhaps, be tempted to take advantage It was to this
fatal division among the leaders of the emigration, and to the uiiskilfulnoss or the
treachery of the ministers of Louis XVI., that the revolutionists owed their lir>t suc-
cesses. I will go still farther, and assert that it was not the National Assembly which
effected the Revolution, but those who were about the King and the princ. s. I
maintain that the ministers delivered up Louis XVI. to the enemies of royaln
certain dabblers have delivered up the princes and Louis XVIH. to the euemi< -
France. I maintain that the majority of the courtiers about Louis XVI. and Louis
XVIII. , and the princes of their house, were and are cha rlatans, real political enmuht;
that to their listlessness, their cowardice, or their treason, are to be imputed all the
culamities which France has sutlered, and those which still threaten the world. Ill
had home a great name, and hail belonged to the council of the BoarbOM, 1 should
not have outlived the idea that a horde (if base and cowardly brigands, none of whom
have displayed any kind of genius or superior talent, should have contrived to
overthrow the throne, to establish their domination over several powerful i-tites of
Europe, and to make the world tremble. When this ideu haunts me, I buiy myself
in the obscurity of my station, that it may screen mc from censure, u it has with
from me the power to arrest the progress of the Revolution."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 139
bly with malediction. Maury uttered his usual cries. Menou calmly
replied to all the reproaches brought against the Assembly, and mi id
that it could not reasonably be accused of an intention to abolish the
Catholic religion, at the very moment when it was making the cost of
its worship an item in the public expenditure. He proposed, there*
fore, to pass to the order of the day. Dora Gerle was persuaded t<»
withdraw his motion, and excused himself for having excited such a
tumult. M. de la Rochefoucnult submitted a motion differently
worded, which succeeded that of Menou. All at once a member of
the right side complained that the Assembly was not free. He called
upon Lafayette, and inquired why he had doubled the guard. The
motive was not suspected, and it was not the left side that could be
afraid of the people, for it was not his own friends that Lafayette sought
to protect. This appeal increased the tumult ; the discussion never-
theless continued. In the course of the debate Louis XIV. was men-
tioned. " I am not surprised," exclaimed Mirabeau, " that reference
should be made to the reign in which the edict of Nantes was revoked ;
but consider that, from this tribune whence I address you, I see that
fatal window, where a king, the murderer of his subjects, mingling
wordly interests with those of religion, gave the signal for the massacre
of St. Bartholomew !" This terrible apostrophe did not put an end to
the discussion. It lasted some time longer, and the motion of the
Duke de la Rochefoucault was finally adopted. The Assembly
declared that its sentiments were known, but that, out of regard for
the liberty of conscience, it neither could nor ought to deliberate on
the motion submitted to it.
Scarcely had a few days elapsed before a new expedient was em-
ployed to threaten and to dissolve the Assembly. The new organi-
zation of the kingdom was completed ; the people were about to be
convoked to elect their magistrates, and it was conceived that they
might as well choose at the same time new deputies instead of those
who composed the Assembly then sitting. This plan, proposed and
discussed before, had already been rejected. It was again brought
forward in April, 1790. Some of the instructions limited the pout is
to one year; and the deputies had actually been nearly a year assem-
bled. They had met in May, ITS!), and it was now near the month
of April, 1790. Though the instructions had been annulled, and they
had bound themselves not to separate before the completion of the
constitution, these men, for whom there was neither decree passed
nor oath taken, proposed to have other deputies elected, and to give
up their places to them.
-Maury, charged to propose this measure, played his part with more
assurance than ever, but with more address than usual. He appealed
to the sovereignty of the people, and said that they could no longer
put themselves in the place of the nation, and prolong powers which
were but temporary. He asked by what right they had invested
thrin-elves with sovereign attributes; he insisted that this distinction
between the legislative and constituent power was a chimerical dis-
tinction ; that a sovereign convention could not exist unless in tho
absence of all government ; and that, if the Assembly were that con-
140 HISTORY OF THE
vention, it had only to depose the King, and to declare the throne
vacant. Loud cries interrupted these words, and expressed the gene-
ral indignation. Mirabeau then rose with dignity. " We are asked,"
said he, " since what time the deputies of the people have become a
National Convention. I answer, from the day when, finding the
entry to their sents encompassed by soldiers, they went and met in
the first place where they could assemble, to swear to perish rather
than to betray and abandon the rights of the nation. On that day,
the nature of our powers, whatever they were, was changed. lie
the powers that we have exercised what they may, our efforts, our
labours, have legitimated them. The adhesion of the whole nation
has sanctified them. All of you recollect the expression of that great
man of antiquity, who had neglected the legal forms for savin? the
eountry. Called upon by a factious tribune to say if he had observed
the laws, he replied, ' I swear that I have saved the country.' Gen-
tlemen," added Mirabeau, addressing the deputies of the commons,
" I swear that you have saved France !"
At this magnificent oath, says Ferrieres, the whole Assembly, as if
under the influence of a sudden inspiration, closed the discussion,
and resolved that the electoral bodies should not proceed to the elec-
tion of new deputies.
Thus was this new scheme frustrated, and the Assembly enabled
to proceed with its labours. Disturbances nevertheless continued
throughout France. The commandant De Voisin was murdered by
the people. The forts of Marseilles were seized by the national
guard. Commotions originating in a different spirit took place at
IVimes and Montauban. Emissaries from Turin had excited the
Catholics ; they had delivered addresses, in which they declared the
monarchy in danger, and insisted that the Catholic religion should
be declared the religion of the state. A royal proclamation had in
vain replied. They had rejoined. The Protestants had come to
blows with the Catholics on the subject; and the latter, waiting in
vain for the promised aid from Turin, had been at length repulsed.
Several of the national guards had set themselves in motion to as>i-t
the patriots against the insurgents ; the combat had thus commenced,
and the Count de Mirabeau, the declared adversary of his illustrious
brother, announcing the civil war from the tribune, seemed by his
motions, his gestures, and his words, to excite it amidst the Assembly.
Thus, while the more moderate deputies strove to allay tin revo-
lutionary ardour, an indiscreet opposition excited a fever, which
repose might have reduced, and furnished the most vehement popu-
lar orators with pretexts. The violence of the clubs increased in
consequence. That of the Jacobins, the oftsprinu' of the Hnton
club, at first established at Versailles, afterwards at Paris, surpass d
the others in numbers, talents, and violence. Its sittings were fre-
(piented like those of the Assembly itself. Here met the principal
popular deputies, and here the most obstinate of them found excite-
ments. Lafayette, with a view to counteract this terrible influence,
had combined with Bnilly and the most enlightened men to form
another club, called the club of 1789, and subsequently that of the
FRENCH REVOLUTION 141
Fcuilluns. But the remedy was powerless. An assemblage of a
hundred cool, well-in formed persons, could not attract th<: multitude,
like the club of the Jacobins, where all the popular patMOD
allowed full scope. To shut up the clubs would have been the only
liniftfi but the court had too little frankness, and excited too little
mistrust, for the popular party to think of resorting to such an expe-
dient. The Larneths were at the head of the club of the Jucobins.
Mirabeau was as often at the one as at the other; and it was evident
: v one that his place was between all the parties. An occasion
soon occurred, on which he nssumed a more decided character, and
gained a memorable advantage for monarchy.
The French revolution began to attract the attention of foreign
sovereigns; its language was so lofty, so firm, and it had a character
of such generality, that foreign princes could not but be alarmed at
it. Up to this time it might have been taken for a temporary agita-
tion ; but the success of the Assembly, its firmness, its unexpected
constancy, and, above all, the prospect which it held forth to France,
and to all nations, could not fail to draw upon it both respect and
hatred, and to engage the notice of cabinets. Europe was then di-
vided between two great hostile leagues; the Anglo-Prussian league
on the one hand, and the imperial courts on the other.
Frederick William had succeeded the great Frederick to the throne
of Prussia. This prince, fickle and weak, renouncing the politics of
his illustrious predecessor, had forsaken the alliance of France for
that of England. United with the latter power, he had formed that
famous Anglo-Prussian league, which attempted such great things,
and executed none of them ; which excited Sweden, Poland, and the
Porte, against Russia and Austria, then abandoned all those whom it
had so excited, and even assisted in despoiling them by the partition
of Poland.
The plan of England and Prussia united, had been to ruin Russia
and Austria, by Raiting against them Sweden, where reigned the chi-
valrous Gustavus, Poland groaning under a former partition, and the
Porte smarting from Russian invasions. The particular intention
of England, in this league, was, without declaring war against France,
to revenge herself for the assistance afforded to the American colonics.
She had found the means of doing so in setting the Turks and the
Russians at variance. France could not remain neuter between these
two nations, without alienating the Turks, who reckoned upon lit r,
and without losing her commercial preponderance in the Levant. On
the other hand, by taking part in the war, she should lose the alliance
of Russia, with which she had just concluded a most advantageous
treaty, which ensured her supplies of timber, and of all the articles
that the .North furnishes in abundance for the navy. Thus in either
case France must sustain injury. Meanwhile England was equipping
her forces, and preparing to employ them according to circumstances.
Moreover, obsenring the derangement of the finances under the No-
tabl. -, and the popular excesses under the Constituent Assembly,
she conceived that she should have no occasion for war ; and it has
been thought that she would have been better pleased to destroy
142 HISTORY OF THE
France by means of internal disturbances than by arms. Hence she
has always been charged with encouraging our dissensions.
This Anglo-Prussian league had occasioned some battles to be
fought, with doubtful success. Gustavus had extricated himself like
a hero from a position into which he had brought himself like an adven-
turer. Holland, which had risen against the stadtholder,had been again
subjected to him by English intrigues and Prussian armies. England
had thus skilfully deprived France of a powerful maritime alliance;
and the Prussian monarch, who sought triumphs of vanity only, had
revenged an outrage committed by the states of Holland against the
wife of the stadtholder, who was his own sister. Poland completed
her constitution, and was about to take up arms. Turkey had been
beaten by Russia. Meanwhile the death of Joseph II., Emperor of
Austria, which happened in January, 1790, had changed the aspect of
things. He had been succeeded by Leopold, that enlightened and
pacific prince, whose happy reign had blessed Tuscany. Leopold,
clever as he was wise, wished to put an end to the war ; and in order
to succeed the better, he employed the resources of seduction, which
had such power over the fickle imagination of Frederick William.
Representations were made to that prince, picturing the blessings of
peace, the evils of war which had so long pressed heavily upon his
people, and, lastly, the dangers of the French revolution, which pro-
claimed such mischievous principles. Ideas of absolute power were
awakened within him ; he was even led to conceive hopes of chas-
tising the French revolutionists, as he had chastised those of Holland.
He suffered himself to be persuaded at the moment he was about to
reap the advantages of that league, so boldly planned by his minister
Hertzberg.
It was in July, 1790, that peace was signed at Reichenbnch. In
August Russia made her's with Sweden, and then had to cope only
with Poland, which was far from formidable, and the Turks, who
were beaten at all points. We shall notice hereafter these various
events. Thus then the attention of the powers was almost exclusively
directed to the French revolution. Some time before the conclusion
of peace between Prussia and Leopold, when the Anglo-Prussian
league threatened the two imperial courts, and secretly injured France,
as well as Spain, our constant and faithful ally, some English vessels
were seized by the Spaniards in Nootka Sound. Warm remon-
strances were made, and followed up by a general armament in the
English ports. Spain, appealing to treaties, immediately applied to
France for assistance, and Louis XVI. ordered the equipment of fif-
teen sail. England was accused of wishing, on this occasion, to
increase our embarrassments. The clubs of London, it is true, had
several times complimented the National Assembly, but the cabinet
left a few philanthropists to indulge in these philosophic effusions, and
was meanwhile paying, it is said, those astonishing agitators who ap-
peared every where, and gave so much trouble to the national guards
of the kingdom.
The disturbances were still greater at the moment of the general
FRENCH REVOLUTION. _43
nnnnment, and people could pot help perceiving a connexion be-
tween the threats of England and a renewal of the commotions
Lafayette, in particular, who never spoke in the Assembly but on
subjects which concerned the public tranquillity, denounced from the
tribune a secret influence. " I cannot forbear directing the attention
of the Assembly," said he, " to that new fermentation which inani-
itself from Strasburg to Nimes, und from Brest to Toulon, and
which the enemies of the people would in vain attribute to them,
since it bears all the characteristics of a secret influence. If we talk
of establishing departments, the country is laid waste. If neigh-
bouring powers begin to arm, disturbances immediately break out
in our ports and in our arsenals." Several commandants had in fact
been murdered, and either through accident or design, the best officers
in our navy had been sacrificed. The English ambassador had been
directed by his court to repel these imputations. But every one
knows what confidence is due to such messages. Calonne, too, had
written to the King,* to justify England ; but Cnlonne's testimony in
favour of a foreign country was liable to suspicion. He urged to no
purpose that every expense is known in a representative government,
that even secret expenses are at least acknowledged as such, and that
there was no item of that kind in the English budgets. Experience
has proved that even responsible ministers are never without money.
The most that can be said is, that time, which reveals every thing, has
revealed nothing on this head, and that Necker, whose situation
qualified him to judge, never believed in this secret influence.t
The King, as we have just seen, had notified to the Assembly the
equipment of fifteen sail of the line, thinking that it would approve of
that measure and vote the necessary supplies. The Assembly gave the
most favourable reception to the message, but perceived that it involved
a constitutional question, which it behooved it to resolve, before it re-
plied to the King. " The measures are taken," said Alexandre La-
meth ; " our discussion cannot delay them ; we must therefore first de- ^
cide whether the King or the Assembly shall be invested with the right
of making peace or war." It was, in fact, almost the last important pre-
rogative to be determined, and one of those which could not but excite
the strongest interest. The imaginations of men were filled with the
blunders of courts; and they were against leavingto the throne the power
of plunging the nation into dangerous wars, or dishonouring it by base
compromises. Nevertheless, among all the duties of government, the
making of war and peace is that which involves the most action, and
over which the executive power ought to exercise the most influence ;
it is that in which it must be left most liberty, that it may act freely
and properly. The opinion of Mirabcau, who was said to have been
gained by the court, was known beforehand. The opportunity was
favourable for wresting from the orator his much-envied popularity.
* See V Armoire de Ftr, No. 25. Latter from Calonne to the King, dated Apri.
9, 1790.
* See what Madama de Stae says in her Considerations sur la RScolutum Fran-
caise.
144 HISTORY OF THE
The Lameths were aware of this, and had charged Barnave to crush
Miraheau. The right side drew back, as it were, and left the field
clear for those two rivals.
The discussion was awaited with impatience : it commenced.
After several speakers had thrown out merely preliminary ideas, Mi-
raheau addressed the Assembly, and placed the question in a new
light. War, according to him, is almost always unforeseen. Hostil-
ities commence before threats. The King, charged with the public
safety, ought to repel them, and thus war is begun before the Assembly
has time to interfere. The same is the case with treaties. The King
alone can seize the proper moment for negotiating, for conferring, for
disputing with other powers; the Assembly can but ratify the condi-
tions obtained. In either predicament, the King alone can act, and the
Assembly approve or disapprove. Mirabeau therefore thought that the
executive power should be held bound to prosecute the hostilities
commenced, and that the legislative power should, as the case might
be, allow the war to continue, or demand peace.
This opinion was applauded, because Mirabeau's opinion always
was. Barnave nevertheless rose, and, without noticing the other
speakers, merely answered Mirabeau. He admitted that the sword
is frequently drawn before the nation can be consulted, but he main-
tained that hostilities are not war; that the King ought to repel tin m,
and, as speedily as possible, to apprize the Assembly, which then, as
sovereign, declares its own intentions. Thus the whole difference IftJ
in the words, for Mirabeau gave to the Assembly the right of disapprov-
ing the war, and requiring peace, Barnave that of alike declaring both ;
but in either case the decision of the Assembly was to be obligatory,
and Barnave allowed it no more right than Mirabeau. Barnave i
nevertheless applauded and carried in triumph by the populace, and
it was alleged that his adversary was sold. A pamphlet, entitled
" Great Treason of the Count de Mirabeau," was hawked about the
streets with loud cries. The occasion was decisive; every om
pected an effort from the terrible champion. He demanded permis-
sion to reply, obtained it, ascended the tribune in the presence of an
immense multitude assembled to hear him, and declared, as he wi nt
up to it, that he would come down again either dead or victorious
" I too," he began, " have been borne in triumph, and yet they are
crying to-day, the great treason of the Count dc Mirabeau. I needed
not this example to learn that it is but a step from the Capitol to the
Tarpeian rock. Yet these strokes from Wlow shall not stop me La
my career." After this impressive exordium, he intimated that he
should reply to Barnave only, and he thus proceeded : " Explain your-
self," said he to him ; "you have in your opinion limited the Kins to
the notification of hostilities, and you have given to the Assembly
alone the right of declaring the national will on that point. Then I
stop you, and recal you to our principles, which share the expression
of the national will between the Assembly and the King In
attributing it to the Assembly alone, you have transgressed against
the constitution. I call you to order . . . You answer not I
shall continue."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 145
No answer could in fict be given. Throughout a long reply, TW-
nave remained exposed to these thundering apostrophes. Mirabeau
answered bira article by article, and demonstrated that Borqare had
not i;ivi.'ii to the \sscmbly any thing more than lie had himself nivcn
to it ; but that, by limiting the King to a mere notification, he had de-
prived him of his necessary concurrence in the expression of the na-
tional will. He concluded by reproaching Harnave with those culpa-
ble rivalries between men, who, he said, ought to live like true com-
m arms. Uamave had enumerated the partisans of his opinion,
Mirabeau in his turn mentioned his. He pointed out among them
loose mo lerate men, the first founders of the constitution, and who
talked to the French of liberty, while his base calumniators were
sucking the milk of courts, (alluding to the Lameths, who had received
favours from the Queen,) " men," added he, " who will boast while
they live of their friends and of their enemies."
Mirabeau's speech gained unanimous applause. There was in the
Assembly a considerable number of deputies who belonged neither
to the rijrht nor to the left side, but who, without espousing any par-
ty, (1 voided upon the impression of the moment. It was they who
gave the victory to genius and reason, because they created a majori-
ty on which side soever they voted. Barnave would have replied ;
the Assembly opposed his intention, and insisted that the question
should be put to the vote. The decree of Mirabeau, ably amended by
Chapelier, bad the preference, and was finally adopted to the general
satisfaction ; for these rivalries did not extend beyond the circle in
which they originated, and the popular party conceived that it con-
quered just as well with Mirabeau as with the Lameths.
The decree conferred on the King and the nation the right of
making peace and war. To the King was assigned the disposal of
the forces. He was to notify the commencement of hostilities ; to call
together the Assembly if it was not sitting, and to propose the de-
cree of peace or war. The Assembly was to deliberate an his ex- ,
press proposition, and the King was afterwards to sanction itsdeliber- i
ation. It was Chapelier, who, by a very judicious amendment, had
required the express proposition and the definitive sanction. This
decree, conformable with reason, and with the principles already es-
tablished, excited sincere joy among the constitutionalists, and foolish
hopes among the counter-revolutionists, who imagined that the pub-
lic mind was about to change, and that this victory of Mirabeau was
to become their own. Lafayette, who, on this occasion, had joined
Mirabeau, wrote on the subject to Bouill6, held out to him hopes of
tranquillity und moderation, and strove, as he always did, to reconcile
him to the new order of things.
The Assembly continued its financial labours. They consisted
in disposing to the best advantage of the property of the clergy, the
sale of which, long decreed, could not be prevented, either by pro-
tests, or by pastoral charges, or by intrigues. To dispossess a too
powerful body of a great portion of the territory of the kingdom —
to divide it in the best possible manner, so as to fertilize it by division ;
to make landed proprietors of a considerable portion of the people
vol. i. — 19
146 HISTORY OF THE
who were not such ; lastly, to extinguish by the same operation the
debts of the state and to restore order in the finances — such were the
objects of the Assembly, and it was too sensible of their utility to be
deterred by obstacles. The Assembly had already ordered the sale
of crown and church property to the amount of four hundred millions,
but it was necessary to find means to dispose of these possessions
without lowering their value by putting them up to sale all at once.
Bailly proposed, in the name of the municipality of Paris, a plan
that was ably conceived, namely, to transfer these possessions to the
municipalities, which should purchase them in a mass, for the pur-
pose of selling them again by degrees, so that the sales of the wholes
might not take place at once. The municipalities not having funds
to pay immediately, should give bills at a certain date, and the cre-
ditors of the state were to be paid with bons on communes, which
they were required to pay off in succession. These bons, which in
the discussion were called municipal paper, furnished the first idea of
the assignats.
In following up Bailly's plan, the Church property was invaded ;
it was to be divided among the communes, and the creditors were to
be brought nearer to their pledge by acquiring a claim upon the mu-
nicipalities, instead of having a claim upon the state. The guaran-
tees would therefore be augmented, since the payment was to be
brought nearer ; it would even depend upon the creditors to effect
it themselves, since with these bons or assignats they could acquire ■
proportionable value in property put up to sale. Thus a great deal
would have been done for them. But this is not all. They might
not choose to convert their bons into land, either from scruples <>r
from any other motive. They would then be obliged to Keep their
bonsy which, as they could not circulate like money, would be mere
unpaid obligations. There remained but one more measure to hi
taken, which was, to give to these bons or obligations the faculty of
circulation. They would then become really and truly money, and
the creditors, being enabled to pay with them, would be actually re-
imbursed. Another consideration was decisive. There was | scar-
city of specie. This was attributed to the emigration which carried
away a great deal of ready money, to the payments that had to be
made to foreigners, and lastly to malevolence. The real cava
the want of confidence occasioned by the disturbances. Specie is
apparent by the circulation. When confidence prevails, the activity
of the exchange is extreme ; money moves about rapidly, i-
every where, and is believed to be more considerable because it is
more serviceable; but when political commotions create alarm, capi-
tal languishes, specie moves slowly ; it is frequently hoarded, and
complaints are unjustly made of its absence.
The desire to provide a substitute for metallic specie, which the
Assembly considered scarce, by putting into the hands of die credit-
ors, something better than a dead obligation, and the necessity off
supplying amultitude of other urgent wants, caused the forced curren-
cy of money to be given to these bons or assignats. The creditor was
thereby paid, since he could oblige others to take the paper which he
FRENCH REVOLUTION. M7
had received, and thus supply all his wants. If he did not choose to
purchase lands, those who had taken the circulating paper of him
would eventually huy them. The unguals which should come in
by this method were to be burned ; thus the lands of the clergy
would soon be distributed, and the paper suppressed. The OMignau
bore interest at so much per day, and acquired value by remaining
in the hands of those who held them.
The clergy, viewing this measure as an instrument of execution
against its possessions, strongly opposed it. Its noble and other allies,
adverse to every thing that facilitated the progress of the revolution,
opposed it also and cried out against paper-money. The name of
Law was brought forward, and the memory of his bankruptcy re-
vived. The comparison, however, was not just, because the value
of Law's paper-money depended on the profits to be gained by the
India Company, while that of the assignats was founded on a territo-
rial capital, real and easily convertible. Law had committed consid-
erable frauds on the court, and had greatly exceeded the presumed
amount of the Company's capital. The Assembly, on the contrary,
could not believe that, with the new forms which it had just establish-
ed, such errors could take place. Lastly, the amount of the assig-
nats created, formed but a very small portion of the capital allotted
to them. But it is true enough that paper, however safe, is not like
money, a reality, or according to Bailly's expression, " a physical ac-
tuality." Specie carries its own value along with it. Paper, on the
contrary, requires one more operation, a purchase of land, a realiza-
tion. It must therefore be below specie, and as soon as it is below
it, money, which nobody will give for paper, is hoarded, and at length
disappears. If, moreover, abuses in the administration of the pro-
perty, and in moderate issues of paper, destroy the proportion be-
tween the circulating medium and the capital, confidence vanishes ;
the nominal value is retained, but the real value ceases ; he who gives
this conventional money robs him who receives it, and a great crises
ensues. All this was possible enough, and with more experience
would have appeared certain. As a financial measure, the issue of,
assignats was therefore highly censurable ; but it was necessary as a
political measure ; for it supplied urgent wants, and divided property
without the uid of an agrarian law. The Assembly, therefore, had
no reason to hesitate ; and, in spite of Maury and his pnrtisans, it
decreed four hundred millions of forced assignats with interest.
Neckcr had long since lost the confidence of the King, the former
deference of his colleagues, and the enthusiasm of the nation.*
• " In passing through Geneva, the First Consul had an interview with M. Neck-
er. I know not how it happened, but at the time he did not speak to me of this in-
terview. However, I was curious to know what he thought of a man who had ac-
quired so much celebrity in France. One evening, when we were talking, first of
one thing, and then of another, I managed to turn the conversation on that subject.
" M. Necker," said he, " appears to me very far below his reputation. He did not
equal the idea I had formed of him. I tried all I could to get him to talk, but he
said nothing remarkable. He is an ideologist — a banker. It is impossible that such
a man, can have any but narrow views; and besides, all celebrated people lose on ui
close view." — Bourrienne't Memoirs of Napoleon. E. *
148 HISTORY OF THE
Engrossed by his calculations he sometimes entered into discussion
with the Assembly. His reserve for extraordinary expenses occasion.'
ed a demand for the production of the red book, the famous register,
containing, it was said, a list of all the secret disbursements. Louis
XVI. complied with pain, and caused seals to be put upon the leaves
in which were entered the expenses of his predecessor, Louis XV.
The Assembly respected his delicacy, and confined itself to the ex-
penditure of the current reign. Nothing personally concerning the
King was found. Every prodigality had been for the benefit of cour-
tiers. The Lameths were found down for a gratuity of sixty thou-
sand francs, granted by the Queen for their education. They sent,
back that sum to the public exchequer. The pensions were reduced
according to the twofold proportion of services and the former con-
dition of the persons. The Assembly showed in every point the great-
est moderation. It petitioned the King to fix the civil list himself,
and it voted by acclamation the twenty-five millions which he de-
manded.
The Assembly, strong in its number, in its intelligence, in its pow-
er, in its resolutions, had conceived the immense plan of regenerating
all the departments of the state, and it had just framed the new ju-
dicial system. It had distributed the courts in the same manner as
the local administrations, by districts and departments. The judges
were left to the popular election. This last measure had been strong-
ly opposed. Political metaphysics had been again enlisted on this
occasion to prove that the judicial power was dependent on the execu-
tive, and that the King ought to appoint the judges. Reasons had
been found on both sides ; but the only one that should have been
given to the Assembly, which was on the point of making a mon-
archy, was that royalty, successively stripped of its prerogatives, be-
comes a mere magistracy, and the state a republic. But to say what
monarchy was would have been too bold, requiring concessions which
a nation never consents to make in the first moment of its awaking.
The fault of nations is to demand either too much or nothing. The
Assembly sincerely wished well to the King ; it was full of deference
for him, and manifested it on every occasion ; but it was attached to
the person, and, without being aware of it, destroyed the thing.
After introducing this uniformity into the law, and the administra-
tion, the Assembly had still to regulate the service of religion, and to
organize it like all the other systems. Thus, when it had established
a court of appeal and a superior administration in every department,
it was natural to place there a bishopric also. How, indeed, could
certain episcopal sees be suffered to comprehend fifteen hundred
square leagues, whilst others embraced but twenty ; — certain livings
to be ten leagues in circumference, whilst others numbered scarcely
fifteen houses ; and certain cures to have at the utmost but seven bun
drcd livres, whilst there were beneficed ecclesinstics, who possessed
incomes often and fifteen thousand livres?
The Assembly, in reforming abuses, was interfering neither with
the doctrines of the Church, nor with the pupal authority, since the
circumscriptions had always belonged to the temporal power. It do-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 149
tertnined, therefore, to form a new division, and tb subject, as of old,
both curis and bishops to the popular election. Here it was encroach-
ing on the temporal power alone, since it was the King who chose,
and the Pope who instituted the ecclesiastical dignitaries. Tlfis plan,
which was called the civil constitution of the clergy, and which drew
upon the Assembly more calumny than any thing it hud yet done,
was nevertheless the work of the most pious deputies. It was Camus,
and other Jansenists, who, desirous of invigorating religion in the
state, strove to bring it into harmony with the new laws. It is cer-
tain that, justice being every where else re-established, it would have
been strange had it not also been introduced into the ecclesiastical
administration. With the exception of Camus, and some others of
his stamp, the members of the Assembly, educated in the school of
the philosophers, would have treated Christianity like all other reli-
gions admitted into the state, and would not have bestowed a thought
upon it. They entertained sentiments which in our present social
state it is usuul not to combat, even when we do not share them.
They supported therefore the religious and sincerely Christian plan
of Camus. The clergy opposed it, alleging that it encroached on
the spiritual authority of the Pope, and appealed to Rome. The
principal basds of the plan were nevertheless adopted, and immedi-
ately presented to the King, who asked for time that he might refer
to the high Pontiff. The King, whose enlightened religion recog-
nised the wisdom of this plan, wrote to the Pope, with a sincere de-
sire of obtaining his assent, and thus overthrowing all the objections
of the clergy. We shall presently see what intrigues prevented the
success of his wishes.
The month of July approached. It was nearly a year since the
Rastile was taken, since the nation had seized all power, since it had
announced its intentions by the Assembly, and executed them itself,
or caused them to he executed under its superintendence. The 1 4th
of .Inly was considered as the day which hud commenced a new era,
and it was resolved that its anniversary should be celebrated with
great festivity. The provinces and the towns had already set the ex-
ample of confederating, to resist with united strength the enemies of
the Revolution. The municipality of Paris proposed for the 14th of
Fuly a general federation of all France, which should be celebrated hi
the heart of the capital by the deputies of all the national guards and
of all the. corps of the army. This plan was hailed with enthusiasm,
ami immense preparations were made to render the festival worthy
of its ohj.
Other nations, as we have seen, had long turned their eyes upon
Prance. The sovereigns began to hate and fear, the people to es-
teem us. A party of foreign entbo«KUti appeared before the Assem-
bly in the costume of their respective nations. Their spokesman,
Anacharsis Clootz, by birth a Prussian, a man of wavward ima-
gination, demanded, in the name of the human race, to be admitted
into the Federation.* These scenes, which appear ridiculous tr
* "J. B. Do Clootz, a Prthuian baron, known since the Revolution by the noma
150 HISTORY OF THE
those who are not eye-witnesses of them, make a deep impression
upon all who are. The Assembly complied with the demund, and the
President replied to these foreigners that they should be admitted, in
order that they might be able to relate to their countrymen what they
had seen, and to make them acquainted with the joys and the bless-
ings of liberty.
The emotion caused by this scene produced another. An eques-
trian statue of Louis XIV. represented him trampling upon the image
of several conquered provinces. " In the days of liberty," exclaim-
ed one of the Lameths, " these monuments of slavery ought not to
be endured. It is not fit that the people of Franche-Coniti', when
they come to Paris, should see their image thus enchained." Maury
opposed a measure in itself unimportant, but which it was necessary
to concede to the public enthusiasm. At the same moment a mem-
ber proposed to abolish the titles of count, marquis, baron, &c. ; to
prohibit liveries ; in short, to suppress all hereditary titles. Young
Montmorenci seconded the motion. A noble asked what they would
substitute for the words, " Such a one was created count for services
of Anacharsis Clootz, was born at Cleves on the 24th of June, 1755, and became
the possessor of a considerable fortune, which he dissipated by his misconduct. He
was not destitute of ability, but was half-crazed by his fanatical love of liberty, and
his constant habit of poring over the works of German metaphysicians. As lie was
the nephew of Cornelius Parr, author of several works, he thought he must also be
a writer. He travelled in different parts of Europe, and particularly cultivated the
society of Burke, who was then a member of the opposition in the English parlia-
ment. During the French Revolution. Clootz made himself notorious by the ab-
surd extravagance of his conduct. The masquerade, known by the name of the
' Embassy of the Human Race,' was the first scene in which he attracted attention.
He appeared on the 19th of June, 1790, at the bar of the National Assembly, follow-
ed by a considerable body of Parisian porters in foreign dresses, whom be presented
as deputies from all nations. He styled himself the ' Orator of the human race,' and
requested to be admitted to the Federation, which was agreed to. On the 2*id of Jan-
uary, 1792, he wrote a letter to the Legislative Assembly, beginning thus : ' The ora-
tor of the human race to the legislature of the human race sends greeting.' On the
21st of April he delivered a ridiculous tirade at the bar relative to the declaration of
war against the King of Hungary and Bohemia ; proposed to the Assembly to adhere
for a year to a strict regimen; and ended by offering, what he called, a patriotic gift
of twelve thousand livres. He iu consequence obtained the honour of a seat among
the members. On the 12th of August became to congratulate the Assembly on
the events of the 10th, and offered to raise a Prussian legion. < >n the 27th, he beg-
ged the Assembly to seta price on the heads of the King of Pi l*»*i I and ilie Duke
of Brunswick, and delivered a long fjpenhi in which the following expression-
(lined : ' Charles IX. had a successor ; Louis will ha\e none,' — ' You know how
to value the heads ofphuosopbers ; a price yet remains to be set on those of ry-
ntnts.' — 'My heart is French, and my soul saiis-culotte.' The hatred of this fanatic
against the Christian religion was as fervent as that which he entertained against the
monarchy. In September, 1792, he was deputed from the Oise to the Convention,
where he voted for the death of Louis XVI. in the name of the human nice '. In the
■sjne year be published a work entitled 'The Universal Republic,' wherein he laid
it down a.i a principlo ' that the people wa«> the sovereign of tlu> world — nav,
that it was Goaf — ' lhat fools alone believed in a Supreme Being !' Ac. He soon
afterwards fell under the suspicion of Robespierre, was arrested as a llel>eiti.-t, and
condqpmed to death on the 24th of .March, 1794. He died with great firmness, and,
on his way to execution, lectured llebert on inat-rialism. ' to prevent him.' as he
said, ' from yielding to religious feelings in his last moments. ' He eren asked to
be executed after all his accomplices, in order that he might have time ' to establish
certain principles during the fall of their heads.' " — Biographic Motltmt. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 151
rendered to the state?" — " Let it merely be said," replied Lafayette,
" that on such a day such a person saved the state." The motion
was carried, notwithstanding the extraordinary irritation of the no-
bility, which was more galled by the abolition of its titles than by the
more substantial losses which it had sustained since the commence-
ment of the Revolution. The more moderate portion of the Assem-
bly had proposed that, in abolishing titles, those who chose to retain
then), should be at liberty to do so. Lafayette lost no time in appri-
sing the court before the decree was sanctioned, and advised that it
should be sent back to the Assembly, which would consent to amend
it ; but the King instantly gave his sanction, in which some thought
they could discover the disingenuous intention of driving things to
extremities.
The object of the Federation was the civic oath. It was discussed
whether the federalists and the Assembly should take the oath to the
Kin*, or whether the King, considered as the highest public function-
ary should swear with all the others at the altar of the country. The
latter course was preferred. Thus did the Assembly put etiquette in
complete harmony with the laws, and the King would be no more in
the ceremony than he was in the constitution. The court, which was
constantly conceiving distrust of Lafayette, was alarmed at a rumour
that was circulated, purporting that he was about to be appointed
commandant of all the national guards of the kingdom. It was but
natural that those who did not know Lafayette should feel this dis-
trust ; and his enemies, of all parties, strove to augment it. How, in
fact, could it be supposed, that a man possessing such popularity, at
the head of a considerable force, would not abuse it 1 Nothing, how-
ever, was farther from his intention ; he had resolved to be nothing
but a citizen, and, whether from virtue or well-judged ambition, the
merit is the same. Human pride must be placed somewhere — it is
virtue to place it in doing what is right.
Lafayette, in order to remove the alarm of the court, proposed that
one and the same person should not command more than the guard
of one department. The motion was carried by acclamation, and
the disinterestedness of the general was warmly applauded. La-
fayette was nevertheless charged with the whole arrangement of the
festival, and appointed chief of the Federation, in his quality of com-
mandant of the Parisian guard.
The day approached, and the preparations were carried on with
great activity. The ceremony was to take place in the Champ de
•Mars, a spacious area, extending from the Military School to the
bank of the Seine. It had been planned to remove the earth from the
centre to the sides, so as to form an amphitheatre capable of contain-
ing the mass of spectators. Twelve thousand labourers were kept at
work without intermission, and yet it was apprehended that the oper-
ations could not he finished by the 14th. The inhabitants thou pro-
posed to assist the workmen. In an instant the whole population
were transformed into labourers. Churchmen, soldiers, persons of
all classes, took up the spade and the pickaxe. Elegant female*
themselves lent a hand. The enthusiasm soon became general.
152 HISTORY OF THE
The people repaired to the spot by sections, with banners of different-
colours, and to the sound of drums. On arriving, they mingled and
worked together. At nightfall, on a given signal, each rejoined his
company, and returned to his home. This fraternal harmony pre-
vailed till the work was finished. Meanwhile, the federalists kept
arriving, and they were received with the greatest kindness and hos-
pitality. The enthusiasm was general, in spite of the alarm which the
very small number of persons who remained inaccessible to emotions
strove to excite. It was said that the brigands meant to take ad-
vantage of the moment when the people should be at the Ted* ration
to plunder the city. It was insinuated that the Duke of Orleans, who
h:\jil returned from London, entertained sinister designs. The na-
tional gayety was nevertheless undiminished, and no faith was put in
any of these evil forebodings.
The 14th at length arrived. All the federate deputies of the pro-
vinces and the army, ranged under their chiefs and their banners, set
out from the Place of the Bastille and proceeded to the Tuileries.
The deputies of Bearn, in passing the Place de la Feronnerie, where
Henry IV. was assassinated, paid him a tribute of respect, which, in
this moment of emotion, was expressed by tears. The federalist*, on
their arrival in the garden of the Tuileries, received into their ranks the
municipality and the Assembly. A battalion of boys, armed like their
fathers, preceded the Assembly. A body of old men followed it, and
thus revived the memory of ancient Sparta. The procession moved
forward amidst the shouts and applause of the people. The qun >
were lined with spectators. The houses were covered with them. A
bridge thrown in a few days across the Seine, and strewed with flowers,
led from one bank to the other, facing the scene of the Federation.
The procession crossed it, und each took his place. A magnificent
amphitheatre, formed at the farther extremity, was destined for the
national authorities. The King and the president sat beside one an-
other on similar seats, sprinkled with golden fleurs-de-lis. Behind the
King there was an elevated balcony for the Queen and the court.
The ministers were at some distance from the King, and the deputies
ranged on either side. Four hundred thousand spectators occupied
the lateral amphitheatres. Sixty thousand armed federalists performed
their evolutions in the intermediate space ; and in the centre, upon a
base twenty-five feet high, stood the altar of the country. Three
hundred priests, in white surplices and tricoloured ^carl's, COtered
the steps, and were to officiate in the mass.
It was three hours before all the federalists had arrived. During
this inter?iri the sky was overcast with clouds, and the rain fell in
torrents. That sky, * hose brightness harmonizes so well with human
joys, refused at this moment serenity and light. One of the batta-
lions, as it came up, "rounded arms, and conceived the id) a of form-
ing a dance. Its example was instantly followed by all the otl.
and in a moment the intermediate space WBM tilled by sixty thou-
sand men, soldiers and citizens opposing gaiety of heart to the un-
favourable weather. At length the ceremony commenced. The sky
happily cleared, and threw its brilliancy over this solemn scene. The
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
153
Bishop of Autun* began the mass. The choristers accompanied
the voice of the prelate ; the cannon mingled with it their solemn
peals. Divine service over, Lafayette alighted from his horse, as-
cended the steps of the throne, and received the orders of the King.
who handed to him the form of the oath. Lafayette carried it to the
altar. At that moment all the banners waved, every sabre glistened.
The Lfrner.il, the army, the president, the deputies, cried, " I swear
it." The King, standing, with his hand outstretched towards the
altar, said : " I, King of the French, swear to employ the power dele-
gated to me by the constitutional act of the state, in maintaining' the
constitution decreed by the National Assembly, and accepted by me."
At this moment, the Queen, moved by the general emotion, clasped
in her arms the August child, the heir to the throne, and from the bal-
cony, where she was stationed, showed him to the assembled nation.
At this movement shouts of joy, attachment, enthusiasm, were ad-
dressed to the mother and the child, and all hearts were hers. At
* "Charles Maurice Talleyrand-Perigord, minister for foreign affairs, ci-devant
bishop of Autun, Abbe of Celles and 8t. Denis, was born at Paris in 1754, and as
deputy from the clergy of the bailiwick of Autun, joined the meeting of the commons
on the opening of the States-General. He combined witli natural ability a greut fa-
cility of labour and application. His name, his dignities, and his example, operated
on a great number of deputies, who were wholly guided by his counsels. On the
20th of August, 17d9, Talleyrand procured the adoption of an article concerning the
admission of all citizens, without distinction, to all offices. Three days afterwards,
he opposed the mention of divine worship in the declaration of the rights of man,
and maintained that it was in the constitutional act that the holy name of the Catholic
religion ought to be pronounced. In August, October, and November, he made
speeches ou the rt nances, in one of which he recommended the sale of Church property.
In February. 1790, he composed the famous address to the French, to remind them of
what the National Assembly had already done for them, and still intended to do ; and
ou the I4th of July he celebrated the mass of the Federation. On the 20th of De-
cember, he published an address to the clergy, giving an account of the motives
winch bad induced him to take the constitutional oath, and exhorting them to fol-
low hi* example, (u March and November, 1791, he joined the Abbe riieyes in de-
fending the non-juring priests. Hiving been very intimate with Mirabean, be. in the
tribune in March. 1791, read a long discourse on Inheritances, which that great
s-t it -sin in had intrusted to him on his deathbed, in order that he should communi-
cate it.to the Assembly. Assisted by the Bishops of Lydia and Bubylon, Talleyrand
consecrated the first bishops who were called constitutional, an act which drew upon
him the displeasure of the court of Rome. After the session he was sent to F.ugland
as private negotiator, in order to conclude a treaty of peace between the two nations,
but failed in bis negotiation. Terrified at die blood which was so lavishly- poured
forth in France, and informed al>o that after the 10th of August, 17!*2. papers had
been found at the Tuileries which might compromise him, be retired to the United
States-. Afteff the Ml Tberinidor, 171)4, he returned to Paris, became a member of
the National Institute, and in 1797 he entered on the adininstration of foreign affairs.
From that time he began to acquire great intluence in the government, and was one
of those who contrived the events of the 18th Urumaire. In 1602, after the re-
lishnient of Catholic worship in France, the First Consul obtained (or Talley-
rand a brief from the Pope, which restored him to a secular and lay life, and autho-
rized his marriaze with Mrs. Grant." — Biographic Moderne.
Talleyrand remained in the administration of foreign affairs, up to the period of
tlio disastrous Russian campaign, when ho began to make secret overtures — at least
so it is reported of him by Napoleon's biographers — to the Bourbons. On the Ein-
pcror's downfall, he held office for a time under Louis XVIII., and on the expulsion
of Charles X., was appointed ambassador to England by Louis-Philippe. Within
the I est two years he resigned tins appointment, and now lives in comparative re-
tirement at his chateau. £.
rot. i. — 20.
154 HISTORY OF THE
this very same moment, all France, assembled in the eighty-three
chief towns of the departments, took the same oatli to love the King
who would love them. In such moments, hatred itself is softened,
pride gives way, all are happy in the general happiness, and proud
of the dignity of all. Why, idas ! are these pleasures of concord so
soon forgotten !
This uugust ceremony over, the procession returned, and the peo-
ple gave themselves up to rejoicings.* These rejoicings lasted several
days. A general review of the federalists was held. Sixty thousand
mdn were under arms, and exhibited a magnificent sight, at once
military and national. At night Paris was the scene of a charming
fcte. The principal places of assemblage were the Champs de Ely-
sees and the Bastille. On the site of this ancient pris-on, now con-
* " In spite of plotting aristocrats, lazy, hired spademen,. and almostof destiny it-
self, (Cor there has been much rain), the Champ de Mars on the 13th of the month
is fairly ready. — The morning comes, cold for a July one, hut such a festivity would
make Greenland smile. Through every inlet of that national amphitheatre, (for it
is a league in circuit, cut with openings at due intervals), floods in the living throng;
covers without tumult space after space. Two hundred thousand patriotic meu,
and, twice as good, one hundred thousand patriotic women, all decked and glorified
as one can fancy, sit waiting in this Champ de Mars. What a picture, that circle
of bright-died life, spread up there on its thirty-seated slope; leaning, one would
say, on the thick umbrage of those avenue trees, for the stems of them are hidden
by the height; and all beyond it mere greenness of summer earth, with the gleam of
waters, or white sparkling* of stone edifices. On remotest steeple and invisible villase-
belfry, stand men with spy-glasses. On the heights of Chaillot are many-coloured,
undulating groups; round, and far on, over all the circling heights that imbosom
Paris, it is as one more or less peopled amphitheatre, which the eye grows dim with
measuring. Nay, heights have cannon, and a floating battery of cannon is on the
Seine. When eye fails, ear shall serve; and all France properly is but one amphi-
theatre, for in paved town, and ■Upuiej hamlet, men walk listening, till the muthVd
thunder sounds audible on their horizon, that they too nm begin swearing and firing.
Hut now, to streams of music, come federates enough — lor they have assembled on
the Boulevard St. Antoine, and come marching through the city, with uVir eighty-
three department banners, and blessings not loud but deep : comes National
bly aud takes seat under its canopy ; comes Royalty, utd take* peat on a throne be-
side it. And Lafayette, on a white charger is here, ami all the civic functionaries:
and the federates form dances till their strictly military evolutions and manoeuvre*
MB begin. Task not the pen of mortal to describe them ; truant imagination droops
— declares that it is not worth while. There is wheeling and swosjpnsg t<> slow, to
quick, and double-quick time. Sieur Motier, or Generalissimo l.af.iveiti — for they
are one and the same, and lie is General of France in the King's stead for four-and-
tweuly hours — must step forth with that sublime, chivalrous gait of hw ; solemnly
ascend the steps of the Fatherland's altar, in sight of Heaven and of scarcely -breath-
ing earth ; and pronounce the oath, ' To King, to law, and nation,' in Ins own name,
aud that of armed Frame. Whereat there is Waving of banners, ami acclaim suf-
ficient. The .National Assembly must swear, standing in its place . the King him-
self audibly. The King swears ; and now be the welkin split with rir«ls ; let citizen!
enl'raiK insed embrace ; Mined MoMtol clang their arms ; above all, that floating
battery speak! It has spoken — to the four corners of France! From eminence to
emimnce bursts the thunder, faint heard, loud repeated. From Arras to A\ii:noii —
from .Met/, to llaynnne! Over Orleans and Hlois it rolls, in cannon raeitoiUva ; I'uy
bellows of it amid his granite mountains; Fan. where is the shell-cradle of great
Henri. At far Marseilles, one can think, the ruddv evening witnesses it ; o\er the
deep blue Mediterranean waters, the ca.»tle of If. riufdy-tinted, dari> forth fron.
cannon's mouth its tongue of 'ire; ami all the people shout — V< •*, France is free!
Glorious France, that has burst out so. into universal sound and smoke ; and attained
— the Phrygian cap of liberty !" — Curlyic's " trench RmUution.'' L.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. |££
verted into M open square, was let up tliis inscription: "Place
for dancing." brilliant lamps arranged iti festoons, made amends
for the daylight Opulence liftd been forbidden t<» annoy tliis quiet
fite by the movement of carriages. EsifeB was expected to make
hiin.-cif one of the people, and to feel happy in being so. The
Champs Klv.-ivs exhibited a touching scene. There every one walk-
ed about without noise, without tumult, without rivnlry, without ani-
mosity. All classes Intermingled, enjoyed themselves beneath the mild
lamp-liijlit, and seemed delighted to be together. Thus, even in the
bosom of ancient civilization, men seemed to have found anew the
times of primitive fraternity.
The federalists after attending the imposing discussions of the Na-
tional Assembly, after witnessing the pomp of the court, and the
magnificence of Paris, after experiencing the kindness of the King,
whom thev all visited, and by whom they were received with touch-
ing expressions of benevolence, returned home in transports of in-
toxication, full of good feelings and illusions. After so many pain-
ful events, and while preparing to describe others still more terrible,
the historian dwells with pleasure on these too transient scenes, where
all hearts had but one sentiment, love for the public weal.*
I
* I have already quoted some pages of the Memoirs of Ferrieres relative to the
first silting of the States-General. As nothing is more important than to ascertain
the real sentiments which the Revolution excited, I think it right to give the descrip-
tion of the Federation by the same Ferrieres. We shall see if this enthusiasm was
genuine. If it was communicative, and if that Revolution NSMH hideous as some
have wish.-d to make it appear.
" Meanwhile the federalists were arriving from all parts of die empire. They
were lodged in the houses of private individuals, who cheerfully supplied beds, lin-
en, wood, and all tint could contribute to render th 'ir May in the capital agreeable
and comfortable. The municipality took precautions that so great an influx of stran-
gers might not disturb the public tranquillity. Twelve thousand labourers worked
incessantly at preparing the Champ de Mars. Notwithstanding the activity with
which the operations was provocated, they advanced but slowly. It was feared that
til ■>• could not be completed by the 14th of July, the day irrevocably fixed for the
CeraiUOar, beOaas* it was the famous ejpooh of the insurrection of Paris, and of the
taking* ef the Bnstitte. In this perplexity, the districts, iii the name of the country,
invited the good citizens to assist the workmen. This civic invitation electrified all
h ails; the women shared and propagated the enthusiasm; scmiuarests, scholars,
nuns of the order called Saurs du Pot, Carthusians grown old in solitude, were seen
quitting th ir cloisters, hurrying to the Champ de Mars, with shovels upon their
shoulders, bearing banners adorned with patriotic emblems. There all the citizens
collected, blended together, formed an immense and me essantly moving mass of la-
bour er*, every point of which presented a varied group : the dishevelled courtesan
is placed beside the modest matron, the Capuchin draws the truck with the chevalier
of .St. Louis ; the porter and ihi-pttd-intiitre of the Palais Royal ; the sturdy tish woman
drives tie- wheelbarrow filled by the bauds of the delicate and nervous lady; wealthy
people, iii ligent people, well-dressed people, ragged peopte, old men. boys, come-
dians. Cnit-.'iuissrs, clerks, workingand resting, actors and spectators, exhibited to the
astou full of life and bustle ; moving taverns, portable shops, in-
creased the charm nil gayety of this vast and exhilarating picture; songs, shouts of
j»y, the sound of drums and military instruments, that ofepadeS and wheelbarrows,
of the labourers calling to and encouraging one another The
maid fell sinking under the weight of a delicious intoxication at the sight of ■ whole
people who had descended again to the sweet sentiments of a primitive fraternity. . .
- the clock struck nine, the groups separated, Fach ettZMn repaired to
irion of his section, returned to his family, to his acquaintance. The bands
saarehed otfto the sound of drums, returned to Paris, preceded by torches, iudul-
156 HISTORY OF THE
This touching festival of the federation was hut a fugitive emotion.
On the morrow, all hearts still wished what they had wished the day
before, and the war had recommenced. Petty quarrels with the min-
istry again began. Complaints were made that a passage had been
ping from time to time in sallies against the aristocrats, and singing the celebrated air,
Ca ira.
Atlength the 14th of July the day of the Federation, arrived, amidst the hopes of some,
aud the alarms and terrors of others. If this grand ceremony had not the serious and
august character of a festival at once national and religious, a character almost incom-
patible with the French spirit, it displayed that lively and delightful image of joy and
enthusiasm a thousand times more touching. The federalists, ranged by departments
under eighty-three banners, set out from the site of the Bastille; the deputies of the
troops of the line and of the navy, the Parisian national guard, drums, bands of mu-
sic, the colours of the sections, opened and closed the procession.
" The federalists passed through the rues St. Martin, St. Denis, and St. Honore,
and proceeded by the Cours la Heine to a bridge of boats constructed across the
river. They were greeted by the way with the acclamations of an immense con-
course, which filled the streets, the windows of the houses, and the quays. The
heavy rain which was falling neither deranged nor slackened the march. Dripping
with wet and perspiration, the federalists danced farandoles, shouting, "Long live
our brethren, the Parisians!" Wine, ham, fruit, sausages, were let down from tho
windows for them; they were loaded with blessings. The National Assembly joined
the procession at the Place Louis XV., and walked between the battalion of the vet-
erans and that of the young pupils of the country — an expressive image, which
seemed to concentrate in itself alone all ages and all interests.
" The road leading to the Champ de Mars was covered with people, who clapped
their hands and sang Ca ira. The Q.uai de Chaillot and the heights of Passy pre-
sented a long amphitheatre, where the elegant dresses, the charms, the graces, of the
women, enchanted the eye, without allowing it the faculty of dwelling upon any por-
tion of the scene in preference. The rain continued to fall ; nobody seemed to per-
ceive it ; French gayety triumphed both over the bad weather, the bad roads, and the
length of the march.
"M. de Lafayette, mounted on a superb horse, and surrounded by his aides-do-
camp, gave orders and received the homage of the people and the federalists. The
perspiration trickled from his face. A man, whom nobody knew, pushed through
the crowd, and advanced, holding a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other.
" General," said he, " you are hot ; take a glass." Raising his bottle, he filled a large
glass and handed it to M. de Lafayette. The general took the glass, eyed the stran-
Cr for a moment, and drank off the wine at a draught. The people npplauded.
fayette, with a smile of complaisance, cast a benevolent and confiding look upon
the multitude, and that look seemed to say, ' I shall never conceive any suspicion, I
shall never feel any uneasiness, so long as I am in the midst of you.'
" Meanwhile, more than three hundred thousand persons, of both sexes, from
Paris and the environs, assembled ever since six in the morning in the Champ de
Mars, sitting on the turf-seats, which formed an immense circus, drenched, draggled,
sheltering themselves with parasols from the torrents of rain which demoded ti|><>n
them, at the least ray of sunshine adjusting their dresses, waited, laughing, and chat-
ting, for the federalists and the National Assembly. A spacious amphitheatre
had been erected for the King, the royal family, the ambassadors and the deputies.
The federalists, who first arrived, began to dance farandoles ; those who followed
joined them, forming a round which soon embraced part of the Champ de Mara. A
siglit worthy of the philosophic observer was that exhibited by this host of men,
who had come from the most opposite parts of France, hurried away by the impulse
of the national character, banishing all remembrance of the past, all idea of the pre-
s> ut. all fear of the future, indulging in a delicious thoughtlessness, and three liuii-
i red thousand spectators, of all ages, of both sexes, following their motions, beating
time with tln-ir hands, forccttiug the rain, hunger, and the weariness of long waiting.
At length, the whole procession having entered the Champ de Mars, the dance ceas-
ed each federalist repaired to his banner. The Bishop of Autun prepared to per-
form mass at an altar in the antique style, erected in the centre of the Champ de Mars.
'll.ree liuuJnd priests, in white surplice*, girt with broad tricoloured scarfs, ranged
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 137
granted to the Austrian troops into the country of Lie«re. St. Priest
\va> obarged with having favoured the escape of several accused per-
son*, nli» were suspected of counter-revolutionary machination*.
Th* court, out of revenue, ujruin placed in the order of the day, the
themselves at the Tour corners of the altar. The Bishop of Autnn blessed \\\c ori-
jlimuir and the eighty-three banners: he struck up iha 7V Drum. Twelve hundred
musicians played thnt hymn. Lafayette, at the bead of the staff of die Parisian mi-
Irtia, and of the deputies of the army and navy, went np to the altar, and swore, in
the nam- of the troops and the federalists, to he faithful to the nation, to the law,
and to the King. A discharge of four pieces of cannon proclaimed to Frame thi«
nn o:ith. The twelve hundred musicians rent the air with military tunes; the
colours, th" hauliers, waved; the drawn sabres glistened. The president of the Na-
tional Assembly repeated the same oath. The people and the deputies anaw
With shouts of / sircar it. The King then rose, and in a loud voice, said. ' /,
Ki*a of Ute Frenrh. swear to employ tlie power delegated to me hy the constitutional act
of the state, in ■■ tlintaining tht constitution decreed fry the National Assembly, and accept-
ed 1>y me.' The Queen, taking the dauphin in her arms, held him up to the people,
and siiid. • Here is my son; he joins as veil as myself in those sentiments.' This un-
expected mnven.ent was repaid hy a thousand shouts of Vive le Roi ! rirr la Feme*
rice M. If Dauphin '. The cannon continued to mingle their majestic voices with
the warlike sounds of military instruments, and the acclamations of the people.
The weather had cleared up: the sun hurst forth in all its splendour ; it seemed as
if it had pleased God himself to witness this mutual contract, and to ratifv it by
his presence Yes, he did both see and. hear it. and the terrihle calamities
which, ever since that day. have not ceased to desolate France, — O Providence,
ever active and ever faithful ! — are the just punishment of perjury. Thou hast
stricken both the monarch and the subjects who violated their oath!
" The enthusiasm and the festivities were not confined to the day of the Federa-
tion. During the stay ofthe federalists at Paris, there was onecontinued series of en-
tertainments, of dances, and of rejoicings. People again went to the Champ de Mars,
where they drank, sang, and danced. M. de Lafayette reviewed part of the national
guard of the departments and the army of the line. The King, the Queen, and the
dauphin, were present at this review. They were greeted with acclamations. The
Queen, with a gracious look, pave the federalists her hand to kiss, and showed them the
dauphin. The federalists, before they quitted the capital, went to pay their homage to
the Kins: all of them testified the most profound respect, the warmest attachment.
The chief of the Bretons dropped on his knee, and presented his sword to Louis XVI,
' Sire, 'said he, ' I deliver to you pure and sacred, the sword ofthe faithful Bretons: it
shall never be stained hut with the blood of your enemies.' — ' That sword cannot he in
better hands than those of my dear Bretons,' replied Louis XVL, raising the chief
of the Bretons, and returning to him his sword. ' I have never doubled their affec-
tion and fidelity. Assure them*that I am the father, the brother, the friend, of all
the French.' The King, deeply moved, pressed the hand of the chief of the Bre-
tons, and embraced him. A mutual emotion prolonged for some moments this
touching scene. The chief or the Bretons was the first to speak. ' Sire,' said he,
' all the French, if I may judge from our hearts, love and will love you, because you
are a citizen king.'
"The municipality of Paris resolved also to give an entertainment to the federal-
ists. There were a regatta on the river, fireworks, illumination, ball and refresh-
ments in the Halle an Ble, and a ball on the site of the Bastille. At the entrance of
the enclosure was an inscription, in large letters, Ici i.'oif dansk (Dancing here).
Happy assemblage, which formed a striking contrast with the antique image of horror
and despair called forth by the recollection of that odious prison! The people went
to and from one of these places to the other without auv impediment The police,
by prohibiting the circulation of carriages, prevented the accidents so common
in public festivities, as well as the tumultuous noise ofhorses, and wheels, and shouts of
Gin (Take care) — a noise which wearies and stuns the citizens, makes them every
moment afraid of being run over, and gives to the most splendid and best-regulated
fHe the appearance of a flight. Public festivities are essentially for the people. It
is they alone who ought to be considered. If the rich are desirous of -hiring their
pleasures let them put themselves on a level with the people for that day ; so by
158 HISTORY OF THE
proceedings commenced nt the Chattelet against the authors of the
disturbances of the 5th and Gth of October. The Duke of Orleans
and Mirabeau were implicated in them. These singular proceedings,
several times relinquished and resumed, betrayed the different influ-
ences under which they bad been carried on. They were full of con-
tradictions, and present no sufficient charge against the two principal
persons accused. The court, in conciliating Mirabeau, had never-
theless no settled plan in regard to him. It approached and with-
drew from him by turns, and sought rather to appease him than to
follow his advice.
In renewing the proceedings of the 5th and 6th of October, it was
not at him thut it aimed, but at the Duke of Orleans, who had
been much applauded on his return from London, and whom it had
harshly repulsed, when he begged to be again taken into favour by the
King. Chabroud was to report to the Assembly, that it might judge
whether there was ground or not for the accusation. The court wus
desirous that Mirabeau should keep silence, and that he should aban-
don the Duke of Orleans, against whom alone it bore a grudge. He
nevertheless spoke, and showed how ridiculous were the imputations
thrown out against him. He was accused, in fact, of having apprized
Mounier that Paris was marching upon Versailles, and of having
added this expression : " We want a king, but no matter whether it
be Louis XVI. or Louis XVII. ; of having gone through the Flanders
regiment, sword in hand, and exclaimed at the moment of the
departure of the Duke of Orleans : • this j . . . / is not
worth the trouble that is taken about him.' " Nothing could be
more frivolous than such allegations. Mirabeau showed their weak-
ness and absurdity, said but a few words respecting the Duke of
Orleans, and exclaimed, when concluding: " Yes, the secret of these
infernal proceedings is at length laid bare ; it is yonder whole and
entire (pointing to the right side) ; it is to be found in the interest of
those whose evidence and whose calumnies have formed their tissue ;
it is in the resources which they have furnished to the enemies of the
doing they will gain sensations to which they are sUBngers, and will not disturb the
joy of their fellow-citizens.
" It was in the Champs Elys6es that persons of feeling enjoyed more satisfactorily
this charming popular festival. Columns of lights hung from every tree, and fes-
toons of lamps connected them together; pyramids of fire, placed at intervals, dif-
fused a pure light, which the enormous mass of surrounding daisaaa rendered
■till more brilliant by its contrast. The people covered the alleys and the greensward.
The citizen, seated with his wife, amidst his children, ate, chatted, walked about, and
enjoyed himself. Here, young lads and lasses danced to the sound of several bands
of music, stationed in the open spaces which had been formed, Farther on, sailors,
in jacket and trousers, surrounded by numerous groups who looked on with inter-
est, strove to climb up tall masts rubbed with soap, to gain a prize reserved for him
who should reach and bring down a tricoloured flag fastened to the summit fog
should have seen the bursts of laughter which greeted those who were forced to re-
linquish the attempt, and the encouragements given to those, who, more look/ or
more adroit, appeared likely to reach the top. A soothing sentimental joy, diffused
over every face, beaming in every eye, reminded you of the peaceful pleasant of
the happy shades in the hlysian fields of the ancients. • The white dresses of a multi-
tude of females, strolling under the trees of those beautiful alleys, served to heighten
the illusion." — FerrUrts, totu. ii., p. 89.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 159
Revolution ; it is — it is in the hearts of the judges such as it will soon
be graven in history by the most just and the most implacable
vengeance."
Plaudits accompanied Mirabeau to his seat ; the Assembly resolved l
that there was no ground of accusation against the persons inculpated, j
and the court incurred the disgrace of a useless attempt.
The Revolution was destined to run its course every where, in the
army as well as among the people. The army, the last instrument of
power, was also the last fear of the popular party. All the military
chiefs were enemies of the Revolution, because, being exclusive pos-
sessors of promotion and favours, they saw merit admitted to equal
privileges with themselves. From the contrary motive, the soldiers
inclined to the new order of things; and no doubt the dislike of dis-
cipline, and the desire of higher pay, acted as powerfully upon them
as the spirit of liberty. A dangerous insubordination manifested itself
throughout almost the whole army. The infantry, in particular, per-
haps because it mingles more with the people, was in a state of
absolute insurrection. Bouille, who was mortified to see his army\
slipping out of his hands, employed all possible means to prevent this j
contagion of the revolutionary spirit. He had received the most ex-
tensive powers from Latour du Pin, minister at war; he availed him-
self of them to keep shifting his troops about continually, and thus to
prevent them from contracting a familiarity with the people by staying
in the same place. He forbade them, above all things, to frequent
the clubs, and in short lie neglected no means of maintaining military
subordination. Bouille, after a long resistance, had at length taken
the oath to the constitution. He was a man of honour, and from
that moment he seemed to have formed the resolution to be faithful
to the constitution and to the King. His dislike of Lafayette, whose
disinterestedness he could not but acknowledge, was overcome, and
he was more disposed to be on good terms with him. The national
guards of the extensive country under bis command, had proposed
to appoint him their general. He had refused the offer in his first
fit of pique, but was sorry for hnving done so afterwards, when he
thought of all the good that he should have had it in his power to do.
Nevertheless, in spite of some denunciations of the clubs, he still f
maintained himself in the popular favour.
Revolt first broke out at Metz. The soldiers confined their offi-
cers, seized the colours and the military chests, and wished even to
make the municipality contribute. Bouille exposed himself to the
greatest danger, and succeeded in his efforts to suppress the sedition.
Soon afterwards, a similar mutiny took place at Nancy. Some Swiss
regiments were implicated in it, and there was reason to apprehend
that, if this example were followed, the whole kingdom would soon
be a prey to the united excesses of the soldiery and the populace.
The Assembly itself trembled at the prospect. An officer un-
charged to carry the decree passed against the rebels. He could not
put it into execution, and Bouille was ordered to march to Nancy,
that the law might have the assistance of force. He had but few
soldiers on whom he could rely. Luckily the troops which had lutely
fcaMML* ■>'.' I
160 HISTORY OF THE
mutinied at Metz, humbled because he durst not trust them, offered to march
against the rebels: the national guards made a similar offer, and he advanced
upon Nancy with these united forces and a tolerably numerous body of ca-
valry. His situation was perplexing, for he could not employ his cavalry,
and his infantry was not strong enough to attack the rebels seconded by the
populace. Nevertheless he addressed with the greatest firmness and con-
trived to overawe them. They were even about to yield and to leave the
city agreeably to his orders, when some musket-shots were fired from some
unknown quarter. An action now became inevitable. Bouille's troops,
under the idea of treachery, fought with the greatest ardour; but the engage-
ment was obstinate, and they penetrated only step by step through a de-
structive fire. Being at length master of the principal squares, Bouille
gained the submission of the revolted regiments, and compelled them to leave
the city; he liberated the imprisoned officers and the authorities, and caused
the principal ringleaders to be picked out, and delivered them up to the Na-
tional Assembly.
This victory diffused general joy, and allayed the fears which had been
excited for the tranquillity of the kingdom. Bouille received congratulations
and commendations from the King and the Assembly. He was subsequently
calumniated, and his conduct charged with cruelty. It was nevertheless ir-
reproachable, and at the moment it was applauded as such. The King aug-
mented his command, which became very considerable, extending from
Switzerland to the Sambre, and comprehending the greatest part of the fron-
tiers. Bouille, having more reliance on the cavalry than on the infantry,
chose the banks of the Seille, which falls into the Moselle, for his canton-
ments. He there had plains for manoeuvring his cavalry, forage for its sup-
port, places of considerable strength for intrenching it, and above all, a thin
population. Bouille had determined to take no step against the constitution,
but he distrusted the patriots, and he took precautions with a view to suc-
cour the King, if circumstances should render it necessary.
The Assembly had abolished the parliaments, instituted juries, suppressed
jurandes, and was about to order a fresh issue of assignats. The property
of the clergy offering an immense capital, and the assignats rendering it con-
tinually disposable, it was natural that the Assembly should employ it. All
the objections already urged were renewed with still greater violence. The
Bishop of Autun himself declared against this new issue, and had the sagacity
to foresee all the financial results of that measure.* Mirabeau, looking
chiefly at the political results, obstinately persisted, and with success. Eight
• M. de Talleyrand had predicted, in a very remarkable manner, the financial results of
paper-money. In his speech he first showed the nature of that money, characterized it with
the greatest justice, and explained the reasons of its speedy inferiority.
"Will the National Assembly," said he, "order an issue of two thousand millions of
money in assignats ? People judge of this second issue by the success of the first ; but they
will not perceive that the wants of commerce, checked by the Revolution, naturally caused
our first conventional issue to be received with avidity ; and these wants were such, that, in
my opinion, this currency would have been adopted, had it even not been forced : to make an
attack on this first success, which moreover, has not been complete, since the assignats are
below par, in favour of a second and more ample issue, is to expose ourselves to great
dangers ; for the empire of the law has its measure, and this measure is the interest which
men have to respect or to infringe it.
"The assignats will undoubtedly have characters of security which no paper-money ever
had ; none was ever created upon so valuable a pledge, clothed with so solid a security : that
I am far from denying. The assignat, considered as a title of credit, has a positive and ma-
terial value ; this value of the assignat is precisely the same as that of the land which it re-
presents ; but still it must be admitted above all, that never will any national paper be upon
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 161
hundred millions in assignats were decreed; and this time it was derided
that they should not hear interest. It would have been useless in fact to add
interest to a circulating medium. Let this be done for a paper which can-
not circulate but remains idle in the hands of the holder — nothing is more
just: hut tor a value which becomes actual by its forced currency, it is an
error which the Assembly did not commit a second time.
Necker opposed this new issue, and sent in a memorial which was not
■d to. Times were materially changed for him, and he was no longer
the minister whose continuance in office was deemed by the people essential
• par with the metals ; never will the supplementary sign of the first representative sign of
wealth have the exact value of its model ; the very title proves want, and want spreads alarm
and distrust around it.
" Whv will assignat-money be always below specie? In the first place, because there will
always be doubts of the exact application of its proportions between the mass of the assignats
and that of the national |>ro|K-rty ; because there will long be uncertainty respecting the con-
smnin ition ol the sales; because no conception can be formed by what time two thousand
minimis of aaaigiiata, representing nearly the value of the domains, will be extinguished; be-
cause, money being put in competition with paper, both become a marketable commodity ;
and the more abundant any commodity is, the lower must be its price ; because with money
one will always be able to do without assignats, whilst it is impossible with assignats to do
without money : and fortunately the absolute want of money will keep some specie in circu-
lation, for it would be the greatest of all evils to be absolutely destitute of it."
Farther on the speaker added : " To create an assignat currency is not assuredly represent-
ing a metallic commodity, it is merely representing a metallic currency : now a metal that is
merely money, whatever idea may be attached to it, cannot represent that which is at the
same time money and merchandise. Assignat-money, however safe, however solid, it may
be, is therefore an abstraction of paper-money ; it is consequently but the free or forced sign,
not of wealth but merely of credit. It thence follows that to give to paper the functions of
money by making it like other money, the medium between all exchangeable objects, is
changing the quantity recognised as unit, otherwise called in this matter the mint standard ;
it is operating in a moment what centuries scarcely operate in a state that is advancing in
wealth ; and if, to borrow the expression of a foreign writer, money performs in regard to the
price of things the same function as degrees, minutes, and seconds, in regard to angles, or
scales in regard to geographical maps and plans of all kinds, I ask what must be the result
from this alteration in the common measure V
After showing what the new money was, M. de Talleyrand predicted with singular preci-
sion the confusion which would result from it in private transactions.
"But, let us at length follow the assignats in their progress, and see what course they will
have to take. The reimbursed creditor then must either purchase lands with the assignats,
or he must keep them, or employ them for other acquisitions. If he purchases lands, then
your object will be fulfilled : I shall applaud with you the creation of assignats, because they
will not be thrown into circulation; because, in short, they will only have made that which
I propose to you to give to public credits, the faculty of being exchanged for public domains.
But if this distrustful creditor prefers losing the interest by keeping an inactive title ; if he
converts assignats into metals for the purpose of hoarding them, or into bills on foreigners to
carry them abroad ; if these latter classes are much more numerous than the first ; if, in short,
the assignats remain a long time in circulation before they come to be extinguished in the
chest of the sinking fund; if they are forced into currency and stop in the hands of persons
who are obliged to take them at par, and who, owing nothing, cannot employ them but with
loss ; if they arc the occasion of a great injustice done by all debtors to all creditors anterior
to the passing of assignats at the par of money, whilst it will be contradicted in the security
which it orders, since it will be impossible to oblige the sellers to take them at the par of
specie, that is to say without raising the price of their commodities in proportion to the losa
upon the assignats : how sorely then will this ingenious operation have disappointed the pa-
triotism of those whose sagacity has devised, and whose integrity defends it ! and to what in-
consolable regret should we not be doomed !"
It cannot then be asserted that the National Aasembly was wholly unaware of the possible
result of its determination ; but to these forebodings might be opposed one of those answers
which one never dare give at the moment, but which would be peremptory and which be-
come so in the sequel — the necessity of replenishing the exchequer and of dividing property
Vol. I.— 21 oX
162 HISTORY OF THE
to their welfare a year before. Deprived of the confidence of the King, em-
broiled with his colleagues, excepting Montmorin, he was neglected by the
Assembly, and not treated by it with that attention which he had a ri<riit to
expect. Necker's error consisted in believing that reason is sufficient f>r
all tilings, and that, combined with a medley of sentiment and logic, it could
not fail to triumph over the infatuation of the aristocrats and the irritation of
the patriots. Necker possessed that somewhat vain-glorious reason, which
sits in judgment on the vagaries of the passions, and condemns them ; but he
lacked that other sort of reason, more lofty but less proud, which does not
confine itself to condemning, but knows how to govern them also. Thus,
placed in the midst of parties, he only irritated all, without beinsr a bridle
upon any. Left without friends, since the secession of Mounier and Lallv,
he had retained none but the useless Mallouet. lie had offended the As-
sembly by reminding it continually and with reproaches of the most difficult
of all duties — that of attending to the finances. He had moreover incurred
ridicule by the manner in which he spoke of himself. His resignation #«f
accepted with pleasure by all parties. His carriage was stopped as it w -as
quitting the kingdom by the same populace which had before drawn him in
triumph; and it was necessary to apply to the Assembly for an order direct-
ing that he should be allowed to go to Switzerland. He soon obtained this
permission, and retired to Coppet, there to contemplate at a distance a Revo-
lution which he was no longer qualified to observe closely or to guide.
The ministry was now reduced to as complete a cipher as the King, and
chiefly busied itself with intrigues, which were either futile or culpable. St.
Priest communicated with the emigrants; Latour du Pin lent himself to all
the schemes of the military chiefs ; Montmorin* possessed the esteem of the
• "Armand Marc Count de Montmorin St. Herem, minister of finance, and secretary of
state, was one of the Assembly of Notables held at Versailles, and had the administration of
foreign affairs at the time when the States-general opened. He was dismissed in 1789 with
Necker, but was immediately recalled by order of the National Assembly. In Septemlter,
1790, when all his colleagues were dismissed, he retained his place, and even the portfolio
of the interior was for a time confided to him. In April, 1791, he sent a circular letter to all
the ministers at foreign courts, assuring their sovereigns that the King was wholly unre-
strained, and sincerely attached to the new constitution. In the beginning of June, he was
struck from the list of Jacobins, and was afterwards summoned to the bar for giving tho
King's passport when he fled to Varennes ; but he easily cleared himself from this charge by
proving that the passport had been taken out under a supposititious name. M. de Montmo-
rin soon after this, tendered his resignation; yet though withdrawn from public life, he con-
tinued near the King, and, together with Bertrand de Molleville, Mallouet, and a few others,
formed a kind of privy council, which suggested and prepared various plans for strengthen-
ing the monarchy. This conduct drew on him the inveterate hatred of the Jacobins, who
attacked him and Bertrand as members of the Austrian committee. M. de Montmorin was
one of the first victims who fell in the massacres of September." — Biographic Mndcrne. E.
" The unfortunate M. de Montmorin had taken refuge on the 10th of August at the house
of a washerwoman in the fauxhourg St Antoine. He was discovered in the early part of
September by the imprudence of his hostess, who bought the finest fowls and the beat fruit
she could find, and carried them to her house, without taking any precautions to elude tho
observation of her neighbours. They soon suspected her of harbouring an aristocrat This
conjecture spread among the populace of the fauxbourg, who were almost all of them spies
and agents of the Jacobins. M. de Montmorin was in consequence arrested, and conducted
to the bar of the National Assembly. He answered the questions put to him in the most
satisfactory manner; but his having conceded himself, and a bottle of laudanum having
been found in his pocket formed, said his enemies, a strong presumption that he was con-
scious of some crime. After being detained two days in the committee, he was sent a prisoner
to the Abbsye; and a few days afterwards was murdered in a manner too shocking to men-
tion ; and hi* mangled body carried in triumph to the National Assembly." — Private Memoir*
of Bertrand de Molleville. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 160
court but not its confidence, and he was employed in intrigues with the
popular leaders with whom his moderation made him acquainted. The
ministers were all denounced on the plea of new plots. "I to..." ( \elaimed
Cazales, "I too would denounce them, if it were generous to attack such
weak men; I would charge the minister of the finances with taring kepi the
Assembly in the dark respecting the real resources of the state, and with not
having directed a Revolution which he had provoked; I would charge the
minister at war with having suffered the army to be disorganized; the mi-
nister of the interior with not having enforced the observance of the King's
orders : all, in short, with their nullity and the cowardly advice given to their
master." Inactivity is a crime in the eyes of parties desirous of proceed-
ing to their goal. Accordingly, the right side condemned the ministers not
for what they had done, but for what they had not done. Cazales and his
supporters, though they condemned them, were nevertheless averse to ap-
plying to the King for their dismissal, because they regarded such an appli-
cation as an infringement of the royal prerogative. The motion was not
pressed; hut the ministers successively resigned, excepting Montmorin, who
alone was retained. Duport-du-Tertre, who was merely an advocate, was
appointed keeper of the seals. Duportail, recommended to the King by La-
fayette, succeeded Latour du Pin in the war department, and showed him-
self more favourably disposed towards the popular party. One of the mea-
sures taken by him was to deprive Bouille of all the liberty which he as-
sumed in his command, and especially of the power of displacing the troops
at his pleasure ; — a power which Bouille employed, as we have seen, to pre-
vent his soldiers from fraternizing with the people.
The King had studied the history of the English revolution with particu-
lar attention. He had always been powerfully struck by the fate of Charles
I., and he could not help feeling sinister forebodings. He had particularly
remarked the motive of Charles's condemnation. The motive was civil war.
He had thence contracted an invincible horror of every measure that could
produce bloodshed, and invariably opposed all the schemes of flight proposed
by the Queen and the court.
During the summer which he passed at St. Cloud in 1790, he had oppor-
tunities enough for flight, but he never would listen to the mention of it. The
friends of the constitution dreaded like him such a step, which seemed likely
to lead to a civil war. The aristocrats alone desired it, because, in becoming
masters of the King by withdrawing him from the Assembly, they flattered
themselves with the prospect of governing in his name, and returning with
him at the head of foreigners ; not yet knowing that in such cases one can
never go anywhere but in the rear. With the aristocrats were perhaps
united some precocious imaginations, which already began to dream of a re-
public, which no one else yet thought of, and the name of which had never
yet been mentioned, unless by the Queen in her fits of passion against La-
fayette and the Assembly, whom she accused of urging it on with all their
mi^ht. Lafayette, chief of the constitutional army and of all the sincere
friends of liberty, kept incessant watch over the person of the monarch.
Those two ideas, the departure of the King and civil war, were so strongly
associated in all minds ever since tlVe commence'meht of the Revolution, that
such an event was considered as the greatest calamity that could be appre-
hended.
Meanwhile the expulsion of the ministry, which, if it had not the confi-
dence of Louis XVI. was at least his choice, indisposed him towards the
Assembly, and excited his fears for the total loss of the executive power
164 HISTORY OF THE
The new religious debates, to which the bad faith of the clergy gave rise on
occasion of the civil constitution, affrighted his timid conscience, and thence-
forward he thought of departure.* It was towards the end of 1790 that he
wrote on the subject to Bouille, who at first opposed the scheme, but after-
wards gave way, lest he should cause the unfortunate monarch to doubt his
zeal. Mirabeau, on his part, had formed a plan for upholding the monarchy.
In continual communication with Montmorin, he had hitherto undertaken
nothing of consequence ; because the court, hesitating between emigration
and the national party, was not cordially disposed towards anything, and
dreaded, above all other schemes, that which would subject it to a master
so sincerely constitutional as Mirabeau. Nevertheless, at this period it
cordially agreed with him. Everything was promised him if he succeeded.
All possible resources were placed at his disposal. Talon, civil lieutenant
to the Chatelet, and Laporte, recently summoned by the King to manage
the civil list, had orders to see him and to aid in the execution of his plans.
Mirabeau condemned the new constitution. For a monarchy it was, accord-
ing to him, too democratic, and for a republic, there was a king too much.
Observing, above all, the popular violence, which kept continually increas-
ing, he resolved to set bounds to it. At Paris, under the rule of the mob
and of an all-powerful Assembly, any attempt of this sort was impossible.
He felt that there was but one alternative, to remove the King from Paris,
and place him at Lyons. There the King could have explained himself:
he could have energetically stated the reasons which caused him to condemn
the new constitution, and have given another, which was ready prepared.
At the same instant a first session would have been convoked. Mirabeau,
I in ^conferring in writing with the most popular members, had had the art to
draw from all of them the acknowledgment of their disapprobation of an
article in the existing constitution. On comparing these different opinions,
it was found that the constitution was altogether condemned by its framers
themselves.t He proposed to annex them to the manifesto of the King, to
* "About this time Madame de Stael invented a plan for his Majesty's escape, which she
communicated to M. de Montmorin in a letter that he showed me. The plan was as follows : —
The estate of Lamotte, on the coast of Normandy, belonging to the Duke of Orleans, was to
be sold. Madame de StaGI proposed, that she should publicly give out that she had an
intention to purchase it ; and on this pretext, that she should make frequent journeys to that
place, always in the same carriage, and accompanied in the same manner — namely, by a man
of the same size and shape as the King, dressed in a gray coat, and a round periwig; by a
waiting-woman resembling the Queen ; by a child of the ago and figure of the Dauphin ; and
by a footman on horseback. When these repeated journeys had accustomed the pi titan
of the post-houses, and the postilions on the road, to the appearance of Madame de Starl and
her travelling companions, she proposed that their places should be occupied by the King,
Queen, and Dauphin, in the hope that they would arrive safely at the castle of Lamotte,
where a fishing-vessel would be in readiness to transport them whither they pleased. This
plan appeared to M. de Montmorin equally dangerous, romantic, and inconsistent with pro-
Siety ; he therefore never mentioned it to the King, in the fear that his majesty, who regarded
adame de Stael as an enthusiast, would reject every future plan of escape as wild and
extravagant, merely because a similar measure had been proposed by her." — Private Memoirs
of Bertrand de Molleville. E.
■J- It is not possible that there should not be diversity of opinions in regard to a work com-
posed collectively, and by a great number of persons. Unanimity having never taken place,
excepting on certain very rare points, of course every part was disapproved by those who
voted against it. Thus every article of the constitution of 17!) I must have met with some
disapprove™ among the very authors of that constitution ; the whole was nevertheless their
real and incontestable work. What happened in this instance would have been inevitable in
any deliberative body, and the expedient of Mirabeau was but a trick. It may even be said,
that his procedure was far from delicate, but great allowance must be made for a man of mighty
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 165
insure its effect and to cause the necessity for a new constitution to he the
more strongly felt. We are not acquainted with all his means of execution :
hut we know that, Uirough die policy of Talon, civil lieutenant, he had
secured pamphleteers, and club and mob orators; and that by his immense
correspondence he could have made sure of diirty-six departments of the
south. No doubt he meant to gain the aid of Bouille, but he would not
place himself at the mercy of that general. While Bouille should be
encamped at Montmedy, he wished the King to stay at Lyons; and he
himself was to be at Lyons or Paris, according to circumstances. A foreign
prince, a friend of Mirabeau, saw Bouille on behalf of the King, and com-
municated to him this plan, but unknown to Mirabeau,* who had no thought
of Montmedy, for which place the King subsequently set out. Bouille,
struck by the genius of Mirabeau, declared that everything ought to be done
to win such a man, and that for his own part he was ready to second him
with all his means.
M. de Lafayette was unacquainted with this plan. Though sincerely
attached to the person of the King, he had not the confidence of the court,
and besides he excited the envy of Mirabeau, who was not desirous of hav-
ing such a companion. M. de Lafayette, moreover, was known to pursue
only die direct road ; and this plan was too bold, it deviated too much from
the legal course, to suit him. Be this as it may, Mirabeau wished to be the
sole executer of his plan, and in fact he carried it on quite alone during the
winter of 1790-1791. It is impossible to tell whether it would have suc-
ceeded, but this much is certain, that without stemming the revolutionary
torrent, it would at least have influenced its direction ; and that, though it
would undoubtedly not have changed the inevitable result of the revolution,
it would have modified events by its powerful opposition. It is still a ques-
tion, however, whether, had he even succeeded in quelling the popular party,
he could have made himself master of the aristocracy and of the court. One
of his friends mentioned to him this last objection. " They have promised
me everything," said Mirabeau. "And if they should not keep their
word ?"— " If they do not keep their word, I will soon turn them into a
republic." •
The prineipal articles of the civil constitution, such as the new circum-
scription of the bishoprics and the election of all the ecclesiastical function-
aries, had been decreed. The King had referred to the Pope, who, after
answerinsr him in a tone half severe and half paternal, had appealed in his
turn to the clergy of France. The clergy, availing itself of this occasion,
alleged that spiritual interests were compromised by the measures of the
Assembly. At the same time it circulated pastoral charges, declared that
the displaced bishops would not quit their sees but by compulsion and force ;
that they would hire houses and continue their ecclesiastical functions ; and
that all who adhered faithfully to their religion ought to have recourse to
mind and dissolute manners, whom the morality of the aim rendered not over scrupulous in
regard to that of the means. I say the morality of the aim, for Mirabeau sincerely believed
in the necessity of a modified constitution ; and, though his ambition and his petty personal
- contributed to keep him aloof from the popular party, he was sincere in his fear of
Others besides him dreaded the court and the aristocracy more than the people.
Thus there were everywhere, according to the positions of parties, different fears, and every-
\v!k re true ones. Conviction changes with the points of view ; and morality, that is to say,
sincerity, is to be found alike on the most opposite sides.
• Bouille. in his Memoirs, seems to believe that it was on the part of Mirabeau and the
• Ttures were made to him. This is a mistake. Mirabeau was ignorant of this
double-dealing, and had no intention of putting himself into Uouiile's i>ower.
*C
166 HISTORY OF THE
them alone. The clergy intrigued particularly in La Vendee and in some
of the southern departments, where it acted in concert with the emigrants.
A federative camp had been formed at Jallez, where, under the apparent pre-
text of federation, the pretended federalists purposed to establish a centre of
opposition to the measures of the Assembly. The popular party was exas-
perated at these proceedings ; and, strong in its power, weary of moderation,
it resolved to resort to a decisive expedient. We have already seen what
were the motives that had influenced the adoption of the civil constitution.
The framers of that constitution were the most sincere Christians in the
Assembly; and these, irritated by an unjust resistance, resolved to over-
come it.
The reader knows that a decree obliged all the public functionaries to take
an oath to the new constitution. When this civic oath was discussed, the
clergy endeavoured to make a distinction between the political constitution
and the ecclesiastical constitution : but the Assembly had gone still farther.
On this occasion it resolved to require of the ecclesiastics a rigorous oath,
which should impose on them the necessity of retiring if they refused to
take it, or of faithfully performing their duties if they did take it. It had the
precaution to declare, that it meant not to do violence to consciences ; that
it should respect the refusal of those who, considering religion as compro-
mised by the new laws, would not take the oath ; but that it was desirous
of knowing them that it might not consign the new bishoprics to their charge.
In this course its motives were just and frank. It added to its decree, that
those who should refuse to take the oath should, be deprived of their func-
tions and salary. Moreover, by way of setting the example, all the ecclesi-
astics who were deputies were required to take the oath in the Assembly
itself, eight days after the sanction of the new decree.
The right side opposed this. Maury gave vent to all his violence, and
did all that lay in his power to provoke interruption, that he mijrht have
ground for complaint. Alexandre Lameth, who filled the president's chair,
maintained order while he spoke, and deprived him of the pleasure of being
driven from the tribune. Mirabeau, more eloquent than ever, defended the
Assembly. "You," he Exclaimed, "the persecutors of religion ! you, whn
have paid it so noble and so touching an homage in the most admirable of
your decrees ! — you, who devote to its worship part of the public revenue,
of which your prudence and your justice have rendered you so economical!
— you. wlio have summoned religion to assist in the division of the king-
dom, and have planted the sign of the cross on all the boundaries of the
departments '.—you, in short, who know that God is as necessary to man aa
liberty !"
The Assemlilv decreed the oath. The Kin^ referred immediately1 to
Rome. , The Bishop of Aix, who had at first opposed the civil constitution,
feeling the necessity of a pacification, joined the Kmg and some of the more
moderate of his colleagues in soliciting the assent o( the Pope. The emi-
grants at Turin and the opposing llishops of France, wrote also to Rome,
but in a directly contrary spirit, and the Pope, upon various pretexts, |>
poned his answer. The Assembly, irritated at these delay*, insisted on
having the sanction of the Kin_r, who, having made up his mind tit comply,
resorted to the usual stratagems of weakness. He wished to obli<^e the
Assembly to use constraint towards him, that he might seem not to act freely,
la fact, he expected ;i eflaomoUon, and then he hastened lo give his sanction.
As soon as the. decree was sanctioned, the Assembly determined to put it in
execution, and required its ecclesiastical members to take the oath in their
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 167
places. Men and women who had until then shown very little attachment
to religion, all at once made themselves extremely busy in provoking the
refusal of the ecclesiastics.* Some of the bishops and some of the curia
took the oath. The majority refused, with a feigned moderation and an
apparent attachment to its principles. The Assembly nevertheless persisted
in the nomination of new bishops and cures, and was cheerfully seconded
by the administrations. The former ecclesiastical functionaries were at
liberty to perform divine service apart, and those who were recognised by
the state took their places in the churches. The dissenters at Paris hired
the church of the Theatines for their place of worship. The Assembly
permitted this, and the national guard protected them as much as possible
from the fury of the populace, which did not always allow them to perform
their devotions in quiet.
The Assembly has been condemned for having occasioned this schism,
and for having added a new cause of division to those which before existed.
In the first place, as to its rights, it must be evident to every just mind that
the Assembly did not exceed them in directing its attention to the tempo-
ralities of the Church. As for considerations of prudence, we may affirm
that it added little to the difficulties of its position. It is evident that the
court, the nobility, and the clergy, had lost enough, and the people had
gained enough to be irreconcilable enemies, and to impel the revolution to
its inevitable issue, even without the effects of the new schism. And be-
sides when the Assembly was abolishing all abuses, could it suffer those of
the ancient ecclesiastical organization to remain? Could it suffer idle per-
sons to live in abundance ; while pastors, the only useful members of the
profession, had scarcely the necessaries of existence ?
This last struggle completed the work of universal division. While the
clergy excited the provinces of the west and south, the refugees at Turin
made several attempts, which were frustrated by their weakness and their
anarchy. A conspiracy was set on foot at Lyons. The arrival of the princes,
and an abundant distribution of favours were there announced. Lyons
was even promised to be made the capital of the kingdom, instead of Paris,
which had incurred the displeasure of the court. The King was apprized
• Ferrieres, an eye-witness of the intrigues of that period, mentions those which were
employed to prevent the oath of the priests. This page appears to me too characteristic not
to be quoted I
" The bishops and the revolutionists intrigued and were extremely busy, the one to cause
the oath to be taken, the other to prevent it. Both parties were sensible of the influence which
the line of conduct pursued by the ecclesiastics of the Assembly would have in the provinces.
The bishops visited their cures ; devotees of both sexes set themselves in motion. Nothing
was talked of in every company but the oath of the clergy. One would have supposed that
the destiny of France and the fate of every Frenchman depended on its being taken or not
taken. Men the most free in their religioiiB opinions, and the most notoriously immoral
women, were suddenly transformed into rigid theologians, into ardent missionaries of the
purity and integrity of the Romish faith.
" The Jutirnal de Fonteney, t Ami du Rnl, and la Gazelle dt Durotoir, employed their
usual weapons— exaggeration, falsehood, calumny. Numberless tracts were distributed, in
which the civil constitution of the clergy was treated as schismatic, heretical, and destructive
of religion. The devotees hawked about pamphlets from house to house ; they entreated, con-
jured, threatened, according to particular dispositions and characters. To .some they represented
the clergy triumphant, the Assembly dissolved, the prevaricating ecclesiastics stripped of their
-. confined in their houses of correction; the faithful ones covered with glory and
loaded with wealth. The Pope was about to launch his anathemas at a sacrilegious Assembly
and at the apostate priests. The people deprived of the sacraments would lise; the foreign
powers would enter France, and that structure of iniquity and villany would crumble to piece*
upon its own foundations." — Ferrieres, torn, ii., p. l'Jct.
168 HISTORY OF THE
of these schemes, and, not expecting success from them, perhaps not even
desiring it, for he despaired of governing the victorious aristocracy, lie
did all that lay in his power to prevent it. This conspiracy was disco-
vered about the end of 1790, and its principal agents were delivered up to
justice.
This last reverse determined the emigrants to remove from Turin to Co-
blentz, where they settled in the territory of the Elector of Treves, and at
the expense of his authority, which they almost entirely usurped. We have
already seen that these nobles, who had fled from France, wore divided in-
to two parties. The one, consisting of old servants, pampered with favours,
and composing what was called the court, would not, while supported by
the provincial nobility, consent to share influence with the latter, and for
this reason they meant to have recourse to foreigners alone, The art
men relying more upon their swords, proposed to rui-x the province of the
south by rousing their fanaticism. The former carried their point, and re-
paired to Coblentz, on the northern frontier, to wait there fur the foreign
aid. In vain did those who wished to fight in the south insist that aid ought
to be sought from Piedmont, Switzerland, and Spain, faithful and disinter-
ested allies, and that a distinguished leader should be left in their vicinity.
The aristocracy, directed by Calonne, was ad\er.-e to this. That aristo-
cracy had not changed since leaving France. Frivolous, naughty, incapable,
and prodigal, at Coblentz as at Versailles it displayed its viced still mare
conspicuously amidst the difficulties of exile and of civil war. "You must
have citizens in your commission," it said to those gallant men who offered
to fight in the south, and who asked under what title they were to serve.*
Some subordinate agents only were left at Turin; these, aetuated by mutual
jealousy, thwarted each other's efforts, and prevented the success of every
attempt. The Prince of Conde,t who seemed to have retained all the
* M. Fromont relates the following circumstance in his work already quoted :
"In this state of things, the princes conceived the plan of forming in the interior of the
Kingdom, as soon as possible, legions of all the loyal subjects of the Kiii£, to he employe!
till the troops of the line should he completely reorganized. Desirous of being at the head of
the royalists whom I had directed and commanded in 1789 and 1790, I wrote to MonaNOf
the Count d'Artois, begging his royal highness to grant me the commission of colonel-com-
mandant, worded in such a manner that every royalist who, like myself, should raise l suffi-
cient number of good citizens to form a legion, might have reason to Battel himself that he
should obtain the like favour. Monsieur the Count d'Artois applauded the idea, and listened
favourably to my application; but the members of the council were not of his opinion ; they
thought it so strange that a commoner should aspire to a military commission, that o
them angrily said to me, 'Why did yon not ask for a bishopric !' The only answer I nave to
die questioner was a loud burst of laughter, which somewhat disconcerted hisqravity. Mean-
while, the question was discussed at the house of M. tie Flaschlaiulen ; the perso
in this deliberation were of opinion that these new corps ought to be called civic lagtoM
(legions bourgeoises.) I remarked to them, that under this denomination they would
merely supply the place of the national guards; that the princes could not mike them march
to any quarter where they might be needed, because they would allege that they were IxiunJ
Only to defend their own hearths; that it was to U- feared thai the factions would find means
to set them at loguerheads with the troops of the line; that with empty word-
armed the people against the depositories of the public authority; that it would therefore ho
more politic to follow their example, and to erive to these new corps the denomination of
royal militia ; that 'No, no. sir,' said the Bishop of Arras, suddenly interrupting
inc. ' the word bourgeois must l>e inserted in your commission ;' ami the Baron de FI«m h-
landcn, who drew it up, inserted the wonlbourgco't accordingly." — litem il de divers Ecritt
relatifs a la Revolution, p. 62.
j-'- Louis Joseph de Bourbon, Prince of Conde. was born at Chantilly in 173d. He waa
the only son of the Duke of Bourbon and the Princess of Hcsae-Khcinti 1>. In 1753 he mar-
ried the Princess of Rohan-Soubise, who in 1756 bore him the Prince of Baurboii-Conde.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 169
energy of his branch of the royal family, was not in favour with part of the
nobility; he took post near the Rhine, with all those who, like himself were
not disposed to intrigue but to fight.
The emigration became daily more considerable, and the roads were
covered with nobles, who imagined that they performed a sacred duty by
hastening to take arms against their country. Even women deemed it in-
cumbent on them to attest their horror of the Revolution by forsaking the
soil of France. Amonir a nation which is so easily led away by example
it became the fashion to emigrate. People hardly gave themselves the
trouble to t;ike leave, so short did they consider the journey, and so speedy
their return. * The revolutionists of Holland, betrayed by their general,
abandoned by their allies, had yielded in a few days; those of Brabant had
not held out much longer: so too, according to these imprudent emigrants,
would the French Revolution be quelled in one short campaign, and abso-
lute power would once more flourish in subjugated France.
The Assembly, irritated rather than alarmed at such presumption, had
proposed measures, but they had always been deferred. The King's aunts
finding their consciences compromised at Paris, thought to insure their sal-
vation hv repairing to the Pope. They set out for Rome, and were stopped
on the way by the municipality of Arnai-le-Duc. The people immediately
thronged to the residence of Monsieur, who also was said to be preparing
to depart. Monsieur appeared, and promised not to forsake the King. The
people were pacified, and the Assembly took into consideration the departure
of Mesdamcs. The deliberation had lasted a considerable time, when
Menou put an end to it by this sally: "All Europe," said he, " will be
astonished to learn that a great Assembly has spent several days in deciding
whether two old women shall hear mass at Paris or at Rome." The com-
mittee of constitution was nevertheless directed to present a law on the
residence of the public functionaries and on emigration. This decree,
adopted after warm discussions, rendered it obligatory on public function-
aries to reside in the place of their functions. The King, as the highest /
of all, was required not to withdraw himself from the legislative body!
during the session, and at other times not to leave the kingdom. The '
In the seven years' war he distinguished himself by his skill and courage, and in 1762 gained
a victory at Johannisberg over the hereditary Prince of Brunswick. In the revolution he
emigrated in 1789, to Brussels, and thence to Turin. He afterwards formed a little corps of
emigrant nobility, which joined the Austrian army under Wurmser. In 1795 he entered
with his corps into the English service. In 1797 he entered the Russian service, and
marched with his corps to Russia, where he was hospitably received by Paul I. In 1800,
after the .separation of Russia from the coalition, he re-entered the English service. He re-
turned to Paris in 1814; and the next year fled with the King to Ghent. He died at Paris
in 1818. His grandson was the unfortunate Duke d'Enghien." — Cyclopxdia Americana. E.
• " Many of the emigrants had joined the army in a state of complete destitution. Others
were spending improvidently the last relics of their fortunes. Several corps, composed
wholly of officers, served as private soldiers. The naval officers were mounted ; the country
gentlemen formed themselves into companies, distinguished by the names of their native
provinces. All were in good spirits, for the camp life was free and joyous. Some became
drawers of water, others hewers of wood ; others provided and dressed the provisions, and
everywhere the inspiring note of the trumpet resounded. The camp, in fact, was a perfect
kingdom. There were princes dwelling in wagons; magistrates on horseback; missionaries
preaching the Bible and administering justice. The poor nobles conformed with careless
philosophy to this altered state of things, cheerfully enduring present privations in the san-
guine expectation of speedily regaining all that they had lost. Tbey confidently believed
that the end of autumn would find them restored to their splendid homes, to their groves,
to their forests, and to their old dove-cotes." — Chateaubriand's Memoirs of the Duke dt
Bern. E. |
▼OL. I.— 22 P
170 HISTORY OF THE
penalty for all the functionaries, in case of their violating this law, was dis-
I missal from office. Another decree relative to emigration was demanded
1 from the committee.
Meanwhile the King, unahle to endure the constraint imposed upon him,
and the reductions of power to which he was subjected by the Assembly,
enjoying moreover no peace of mind since the new decrees relative to
priests, had resolved upon flight. The whole winter had been devoted to
preparations for it: the zeal of Mirabeau was urged, and great promises
were held out to him if he should succeed in setting the royal family at
liberty. Mirabeau prosecuted his plan with the utmost activity. Lafayette
had just broken with the Lameths. The latter thought him too much
attached to the court; and his integrity being, unlike that of Mirabeau,
above suspicion, they found fault with his understanding, and alleged that
fie suffered himself to be duped. The enemies of the Lameths accused
them of being jealous of the military power of Lafayette, as they had
envied the rhetorical power of Mirabeau. They joined, or seemed to join,
the friends of the Duke of Orleans,* and it was asserted that they wished
to secure for one of them the command of the national guard. It was
Charles Lameth who was said to be ambitious of obtaining this appoint-
ment. To this motive were attributed the incessantly recurring difficulties
that were subsequently thrown in the way of Lafayette.
On the 28th of February, the populace, instigated it is said by the Duke
of Orleans, repaired to the castle of Vincennes, which the municipality had
appropriated for the reception of prisoners, with whom the prisons of Paris
were too much crowded. The castle was attacked as a new Bastille. La-
fayette hastened to the spot in time, and dispersed the populace of the faux-
bourg St. Antoine, who were led upon this expedition by Santerre.t While
he was restoring order in this quarter, other difficulties were preparing for
him at the Tuileries. On the rumour of a commotion, the dependents of
the palace, to the number of several hundred had repaired thither. They
carried concealed weapons, such as hunting-knives and daggen. The na-
tional guard, astonished at this concourse, took alarm, and disarmed and
maltreated some of them. Lafayette having arrived, caused the palace to
be cleared, and seized the weapons. The circumstance was immediately
* The three brothers, Theodore, Charles, and Alexandre Tjimcth, were peculiarly called
on to defend the cause of monarchy, for they had been loaded with benefits by the court,
and educated under the special patronage of the Queen, to whom they had been recom-
mended by their mother, who was the sister of Marshal Broglio. — liiogruphi* Mttdcrne. E.
■)■ Sunterre, a brewer in the fauxbourg St. Antoine, at Paris, possessed a boldness and
energy which (rave him great weight in his own neighbourhood. Though ignorant, he knew
well how to address a mob, which made him courted by the Orleanists, On the taking of
the Iiastille, he distinguished himself at the head of the forces of his fauxbourg, and when
the national guard was formed, he was appointed commander of a battalion. In 179" ha
began to obtain decided influence with the people, and on the 10th of August, becoming
commander of the national guard, he conducted the King to the Temple. Yet, notwith-
standing his democratic zeal, he was not considered fit to direct the massacres in the prisons.
Marat said of him, that he was a man without any decided character. On the 1 1 in of De-
cember he conducted the King to the bar of the National Convention, on the occasion of
his trial: and in January, 1793, commanded the troops who au]>erintended his execution.
It was Santerre who interrupted the unfortunate monarch when he attempted to address the
people, by ordering the drums to Iks beat. Wishing to figure as a warrior, Santerre de-
parted, with 14,000 men, to fight the royalists in La Vendue; he was, however, continually
unsuccessful ; and on one occasion, it having been reported that he was killed, this epitaph
was made on him: "Here lies General Sariterre, who had nothing of Mars but his beer."
Santerre survived the troubles of the Revolution, and died in obscurity. — Diogfaphie Mo-
dernc E.
k.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 171
rumoured abroad. It was said that dagger! had been found upon them,
ft hence tliev were afterwards called knights of the dagger. They asserted
that tluv had only come to defend the person of the King, which was
threatened. In reply, they were accused of an intention to carry off the
Kinsr ; and the affair ended, as usual, in reciprocal calumnies. This scene
determined the real position of Lafayette. It was clearly shown on this
occasion, that, placed between the most opposite parties, he was there to
protect both the person of tin: King and the constitution. His double vic-
tory increased his popularity, his power, and the hatred of his enemies.
Mirabeau, who wrongfully encouraged the distrust of the court towards
him, represented his conduct as profoundly hypocritical. Under the ap-
pearance of moderation and hostility to all parties, it tended, according to
him, to usurpation. In his spleen, he described the Lameths as wicked
and senseless men, associated with the Duke of Orleans, and having no
in -re than about thirty partisans in the Assembly. As for the right hide,
he declared that he could make nothing of it, but that he relied on the three
or four hundred members who were bound by no engagements, but decided
from the impression of reason and eloquence which he produced at the
moment.
There was nothing true in this representation but his estimate of the re-
vive force of the parties, and his opinions concerning the means of
directing the Assembly. He virtually governed it, by influencing all who
had not bound themselves by engagements. On this same day, the 28th of
February, he exercised his sway almost for the last time, displayed his
hatred to the Lameths, and brought his formidable power to bear against
them.
The law relative to emigration was about to be discussed. Chapelier
presented it in the name of the committee, which, he said, participated in
the general indignation against those Frenchmen who were forsaking their
country ; but he declared that, after several days' consideration, the com-
mittee had satisfied itself that it was impossible to make any law concerning
emitrration. It was in reality a difficult thing to do. It was necessary in
the first place to inquire if they had a right to attach men to the soil. They
certainly had a ri^ht to do so, if the welfare of the country demand it.
Bttt it was requisite to make a distinction between the motives of travellers,
which became inquisitorial. It was requisite to make a distinction between
their quality as Frenchmen or foreianers, emigrants or mere mercantile
men. Such a law then was extremely ditlicult, if not impossible. Chape-
lier added that the committee, in compliance with the directions of the
inhlv, had nevertheless drawn up one, which he would read, if permit-
ted, but which he had no hesiuuion in declaring violated all principles.
From all quarters issued cries of "Read!" "Don't read!" A great
number of deputies asked leave to speak. Mirabeau demanded it in his
torn, obtained permission, and, what is still more, commanded silence. He
read a very eloquent letter, addressed some time before to Frederick Wil-
liam, in which he advocated the liberty of emigration as one of the most
of man, who, not being attached by roots to the soil, ought
not to be attached to it by any thing but by happiness, .Mirabeau, perhaps
itify the court, but stiil more from conviction, repelled as tyrannical
measure against the liberty of entering, or withdrawing from, the
country. A bad use was no doubt mado of this liberty at the moment; but
ident in i ■, had winked at so many abuses of
die press committed against itself, had encountered so many vain attempts,
172 HISTORY OF THE
and so victoriously overthrown them, that one might safely advise it to per-
sist in the same system.
Mirabeau's opinion was applauded, but the members continued to insist
on the reading of the proposed law. Chapelier at length read it. It sug-
gested, in case of disturbances, the appointment of a commission of three
members, which should appoint by name, and at their pleasure, those who
were to be at liberty to leave the kingdom. At this cutting irony, which
denounced the impossibility of a law, murmurs arose. " Your murmurs
have soothed me," exclaimed Mirabeau ; " your hearts respond to mine, and
oppose this absurd tyranny. As for me, I hold myself released from every
oath towards those who shall be infamous enough to admit of a dictatorial
commission." — Cries were raised on the left side. " Yes," he repeated,
44 I swear . . . ." He was again interrupted. " That popularity," he
resumed in a voice of thunder, " to which I have aspired, and which I have
enjoyed as well as others, is not a feeble reed ; I will thrust it deep into the
earth, and I will make it shoot up in the soil of justice and reason." Ap-
plauses burst forth from all quarters. " I swear," added the orator, " if a
law against emigration is voted, I swear to disobey you."
He descended from the tribune, after astounding the Assembly, and over-
awing his enemies. The discussion nevertheless continued. Some were
for adjournment, that they might have time for making a better law ; others
insisted that they should forthwith declare that none should be made, in
order to pacify the people, and to put an end to the ferment. Murmurs,
« shouts, applauses, succeeded. Mirabeau asked, and seemed to require, to
be heard. " What right of dictatorship is it," cried M. Goupil, M that
M. de Mirabeau exercises here?" — Mirabeau, without heeding him, hur-
ried to the tribune. " I have not given you permission to speak," said the
president. " Let the Assembly decide." But the Assembly listened with-
out deciding. " I beg my interrupters," said Mirabeau, " to remember
that I have all my life combated tyranny, and that I will combat it wherever
I find it." As he uttered these words he cast his eyes from the right to
the left. Loud applause followed his words. He resumed. " I beg M.
Goupil to recollect that he was under a mistake some time since in regard
to a Cataline, whose dictatorship he this day attacks ;* I beg the Assembly
to remark that the question of adjournment, though apparently simple,
involves others : for example, it presupposes that a law is to be made."
Fresh murmurs arose on the left. " Silence ! ye thirty voices !" exclaimed
the speaker, fixing his eyes on the place of Barnave and the Lameths.
44 However," added he, 44 if it is wished, I too will vote for the adjourn-
ment, on condition that it be decreed that, from this time until the expiration
of the adjournment, there shall be no sedition." Unanimous acclamations
followed the concluding words. The adjournment was nevertheless carried,
but by so small a majority that the result was disputed, and a second trial
demanded.
Mirabeau, on this occasion, was particularly striking by his boldness.
Never, perhaps, had he more imperiously overruled the Assembly. But
these were his last triumphs. His end approached. Presentiments of
death mingled with his vast projects, and sometimes subdued his flights of
fancy. His conscience, however, was satisfied ; the public esteem was
joined with his own, and assured him that, if he had not yet done enough
* M. Goupil, when attacking Mirabeau upon a former occasion, had exclaimed with the
right aide, " Cataline ia at our doors !"
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
1 /3
for the welfare of the state, he had at least done enough for his own glory.
Philosophy and gaiety divided his la-t moments between them. Pale, and
wiia his eves deeply Mink in their orbits, he appeared quite different in the
tribune. Moreover, lie was subject to frequent and sudden fainting fits.
- in pleasure and in business, together with the excitement of the
tribunes bad ill a short time undermined his vigorous constitution. Baths',
containing a solution of sublimate, had produeedj that greenish tint which
ttributed to poison.* The court was alarmed; all parlies were asto-
nished, and, before bis death, people inquired die cause of it. On his last
public appearance be spoke five different times, left the Assembly exhausted,
and never afterwards went abroad. The bed of death received him, and he
left it only for the Pantheon. He had enjoined Cabanis not to call in any
physicians : he was, nevertheless, disobeyed, and they found that death
pproaching, and that it had already veiled his lower extremities.
His head was laet attacked, as if nature had decreed that his genius should
continue to thine till the very last moment. An immense crowd collected
around his abode, and filled all the avenues in the deepest silence. The
court sent Messenger after messenger ; the bulletins of his health were trans-
mitted from mouth to mouth, and each progressive stage of his disorder
excited fresh grief. He himself, surrounded by his friends, expressed some
regret at the interruption of his labours, and some pride at what he had
accomplished. " Support," said he to his servant, " support this head, the
greatest in France." He was affected by the sympathy of the people ; and
the visit of his enemy, Barnave, who called upon him in the name of the
Jacobins, excited in him a soothing emotion. He bestowed some more
thoughts on public affairs. The Assembly was about to direct its attention
to the right of making wills. He sent for M. de Talleyrand, and put into
his hands a speech which he had just written. " It will be curious," said
he, " to hear a man speaking against wills who is no more, and who has
just made his own." The court had, in fact, requested him to do so, pro-
mising to pay all the legacies. Extending his views over Europe, and
foreseeing the plans of England, " That Pitt," said he, " is the minister of
• The author of the Mi moires (Tun Pair de France positively asserts that Miraheau waa
poisoned. He says, that in 1793, Robespierre, at a moment when he was off his guard,
ventured to boast of the share which he had taken in that crime. " Two parties," he adds,
" were then labouring to accomplish the ruin of the King ; a third wished it without de-
claring itself: all of them were concerned to see that Louis XVI. inclined to a cordial
reconciliation with the constitution, and all dreaded the sound advice which Mirabcau had it
in his jiower to give him. It was well known that this man was the only person capable of
directing affairs in such a manner as to keep the factions within the limits which they hoped
to pass. As the issue of any attempt to strip him of his popularity was uncertain, it was
thought better to despatch him ; but as no assassin was to he found, it was necessary to
have recourse to poison. Marat furnished the receipt for it; it was prepared under his super-
intendence, and he answered for its effect. How to administer it was the next question. At
length it was resolved to choose the opportunity of a dinner, at which the poisonous ingre-
dients should be introduced into the bread, or wine, or certain dishes of which Mirabeau
was known to be fond. Rotaspierre and Petion undertook to see to the execution of this
atrocious scheme, and were assisted by Fabre d'Eglantine, and two or three other subordi-
nate Orleanists. Mirabeau had no suspicion of this perfidy ; but its effects were manifested
immediately after a party of pleasure, at whirh he hail indulged in great intemperance. He
was soon aware that he was poisoned, and told his intimate friends so, and especially Cabanis,
to whom he said ; ' You seek the cau«e of my death in my physical excesses ; you will find
it rather in the hatred borne me by those who wish for the overthrow of France, or those
who are afraid of my ascendancy over the minds of the King and Queen.' It was impossi-
ble to drive it out of his head that his death was not natural, but great pains were taken to
prevent thia opinion from getting abroad." E.
r2
174 HISTORY OF THE
preparations ; he governs with threats ; I would give him some trouble if 1
should live." The priest of his parish came to offer his attendance, which
he politely declined, saying, with a smile, that he should gladly have ac-
cepted it, if he had not in his house his ecclesiastical superior, the Bishop
of Autun. He desired the windows to be opened. " My friend," said he
to Cabanis, " I shall die to-day. All that can now be done is to envelop
oneself in perfumes, to #crown oneself with flowers, to surround oneself
with music, that one may sink quietly into everlasting sleep." Acute pains
from time to time interrupted these calm and dignified observations. " You
have promised," said he to his friends, " to spare me needless suffering."
So saying, he earnestly begged for opium. As it was refused, he demanded
it with his accustomed violence. To quiet him, they resorted to deception,
and handed him a cup which they said contained opium. He took it with
composure, swallowed the draught which he believed to be mortal, and
appeared satisfied. In a moment afterwards he expired.* This was M
the 20th of April, 1791. The tidings soon reached the court, the city, and
the Assembly. All parties had hope in him, and all, excepting the envious,
were filled with grief. The Assembly suspended its proceedings ; a gene-
ral mourning was ordered, and a magnificent funeral prepared. A certain
number of deputies was asked for. " We will all go !" they exclaimed.
The church of St. Genevieve was converted into a Pantheon, with this
inscription, which at the moment that I record these facts, no longer
exists.
AUX GRANDS HOMMES LA PATRIE RECONNAISSANTE.1
Mirabeau was the first admitted into it, and placed by the side of Des-
cartes. His funeral took place on the following day. All the authorities,
the department, the municipalities, the popular societies, the Assembly, and
the army, accompanied the procession. This mere orator obtained more
honours than had ever been paid to the pompous coffins formerly conveyed
to St. Denis. Such was the end of that extraordinary man, who, after
boldly attacking and vanquishing the ancient race, dared to direct his efforts
against the new, which had assisted him to conquer ; who checked them
with his voice, and made them respect him even while he employed his
energies against them ; that man, in short, who did his duty from reason,
and from the promptings of genius, but not for the sake of a handful of
gold ; and who had the singular honour, when the popularity of all other
statesmen terminated in the disgust of the people, to see his yield to death
alone. But would he have infused resignation into the heart of the court,
moderation into the hearts of the ambitious ? — would he have said to the
popular tribunes, who sought to shine in their turn, " Remain in these ob-
scure fauxbourgs ?" — would he have said to Danton, that second .Mirabeau
of the populace,}: M Stop in this section, and ascend no higher t" We ean-
• "Mirabeau bore much of his character imprinted on his person am) feature?. ' Figure
to your mind,' he said, describing his own countenance to a lady who knew him not, ' a tiger
who has had the small-pox.' When he talked of confronting his opponents in the Assem-
bly, his favourite phrase was, < I will show them La Hure,' that is, the boar's head, meaning
his own tusked and shaggy countenance." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
j- "To great men the gratefulcountry."
i " Georges Jacques Danton, an advocate by profession, was born at Arcissur-Arbc, Oc-
tober 26, 1759, and beheaded April 5, 1794. His external appearance was striking. His
stature was colossal ; his frame athletic ; his features harsh, large, and disagreeable ; his
voice shook the Assembly ; his eloquence was vehement ; and his imnsrination as gigantic
as his person, which made every one recoil, and at which, says St, Just, ' Freedom herself
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 17*
not tell : but in that case all wavering interests would have placed them-
selves in his hands and have lelied upon him. Long was the want of his
presence felt. In the confusion of the disputes which followed, the eye
trembled.' He was one of the founders of the club of the Cordeliers. His importance
illCMMtd in 1792, when he became one of the instigators of the events of the 20th of June,
and a leader on the 10th of August. After the fall of Louis XVI. Danton was mado
minister of justice, and usurped the appointments of officers in the army and departments.
He thus raised up a great number of creatures wholly devoted to his views. Money flowed
from all sides into his hands, and was profusely squandered on his partisans. His violent
measures led to the September massacres. The invasion of Champagne by the Prussians
spread consternation through Paris ; and Danton alone preserved his courage. He assumed
the administration of the state; prepared measures of defence; called on all Frenchmen
capable of bearing arms to march against the enemy ; and prevented the removal of the
Assembly beyond the Loire. From this time forward he was hated by Robespierre, who
could never pardon the superiority which Danton had shown on this occasion. On the oc-
casion of the Festival of Reason, in which the Hebertists acted a conspicuous part, Danton
declared himself against the attack on the ministers of religion, and subsequently united
with Robespierre to bring Hebert and his partisans to the scaffold. But their connexion
was not of long duration. Danton wished to overthrow the despotism of Robespierre, who,
in his turn, was anxious to get rid of a dangerous rival. Danton was accordingly denounced
to the committee of safety by St. Just, and imprisoned with his adherents in the Luxem-
bourg. When he was transferred thence to the Conciergerie, he appeared deeply mortified
at having been duped by Robespierre. On his trial, he said, composedly, ' I am Danton,
sufficiently well known in the Revolution; I shall soon pass to nothingness; but my name
will live in the Pantheon of history.' He was condemned to death by the revolutionary
tribunal as an accomplice in a conspiracy for the restoration of monarchy, and his large pro-
perty was confiscated. He mounted the car with courage; his head was elevated, his look
commanding and full of pride. On ascending the scaffold, he was for a moment softened.
'Oh, my wife, my dear wife, shall I never see you again?' he said, but checked himself
hastily, and exclaimed, • Courage, Danton ! no weakness.' He was thirty-five years old at
the time of his death." — Encyclopaedia Americana.
" During the short period that ejapsed before his execution, Danton's mind, in a distracted
state, reverted to the innocence of his earlier years. He spoke incessantly about trees,
flowers, and the country. Then giving way to unavailing regret, he exclaimed, ' It was just
a year ago that I was the means of instituting the revolutionary tribunal ; may God and
man forgive me for what I then did ; but it was not that it might become the scourge of
humanity.' When his sentence was read to him in his cell, ■ We are sacrificed,' said
Danton, ' to a few dastardly brigands, but I drag Robespierre after me in my fall.' " —
Alison. E.
" Danton had sold himself to the court, on condition that they would purchase from him,
for 100,000 livres, his place of advocate, which, after the suppression, was only worth
10,000 livres. Lafayette met Danton at M. de Montmorin's the same evening that the
bargain was concluded. He was a man ready to sell himself to all parties. While he was
making incendiary motions in the Jacobins, he was their spy at court, where he regularly
reported whatever occurred. On the Friday previous to the 10th of August, 50,000 crowns
were given him, and Madame Elizabeth exclaimed, ' We are tranquil, for we may depend
on Danton.' Lafayette was apprized of the first payment, but not of the ensuing ones.
Danton spoke of it himself at the Hotel de Ville, and, endeavouring to justify himself, said,
• General, I am a greater monarchist than you are yourself.' He was, nevertheless, one of
the leaders of the 10th of August." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
" Danton was sometimes denominated the Mirabcau, sometimes the Alcibiadcs of the
rabble. He may be said to have resembled both (with the differences only of the patrician
order and the populace) in his tempestuous passions, popular eloquence, dissipation, and
debts, like the one ; his ambition, his daring and inventive genius, like the other. He ex-
erted his faculties, and indulged his voluptuary indolence alternately, and by starts. His
conceptions were isolated, but complete in themselves, and of terrific efficacy as practical
agents in revolutions. Danton's ambition was not personal. He would freely sacrifice
himself for the republic or his party. He was inhuman, not so much from instinctive cru-
elty, as from a careless prodigality of blood. He viewed the Revolution as a grot game, in
which men played for their lives. He took those he won as freely as he would have paid
those he lost." — British and Foreign Review. E.
176 HISTORY OF THE
would turn to the place which he had occupied, and seemed to seek him
who had been accustomed to terminate them with a victorious word. " Mi-
rabeau is no longer here," exclaimed Maury one day, in ascending the tri-
bune ; " I shall not be prevented from speaking."
The death of Mirabeau deprived the court of all courage. Fresh events
occurred to accelerate the flight of the royal family which it had resolved
upon. On the 18th of April the King intended to go to St. Cloud. A re-
port was spread, that, as he did not choose to employ a priest who had
taken the oath for the duties of Easter, he had resolved to keep away
during the Passion week. Others alleged that his intention was flight. The
populace immediately collected and slopped the horses. Lafayette hastened
to the spot, besought the King to remain in his carriage, assuring him that
he would have a passage cleared for him. The King, nevertheless, alighted,
and would not permit any attempt to be made. It was his old policy not to
appear to be free. By the advice of his ministers, he repaired to the
Assembly to complain of the insult which he had just received. The
Assembly greeted him with its ordinary warmth, promising to do every-
thing that depended on it to insure his liberty. Louis XVI. withdrew,
applauded by all sides excepting the right side.
■^ On the 23d of April, agreeably to the advice given to him, he ordered a let-
ter to be written to the foreign ambassadors by M. de Montmorin, in which
he contradicted the intentions imputed to him of leaving the country, de-
claring to the powers that he had taken an oath to the constitution which he
was determined to keep, and proclaiming as his enemies all who should in-
sinuate the contrary. The expressions of this letter were voluntarily exag-
gerated, that it might appear to have been extorted by violence. This the
King himself acknowledged to the envoy of the Emperor Leopold. That
prince was then travelling in Italy, and was at this moment in Mantua.
Calonne was in negotiation with him. An envoy, M. Alexandre de Durfort,
came from Mantua to the King and Queen to learn their real disposition.
He first questioned them concerning the letter addressed to the ambassadors,
and they replied that he might see from the language that it was wrung
from them. He then inquired what were their hopes, and they answered
that they had none since the death of Mirabeau ; lastly, he wished to know
their disposition towards the Count d'Artois, and they assured him that it
could not be more favourable.
In order to comprehend the motive of these questions, it should be known
that the Baron de Breteuil was the declared enemy of Calonne : that his
enmity had not ceased at the time of the emigration ; and that, charged with
the full powers of Louis XVI.* to the court of Vienna, he crossed all the
proceedings of the princes. He assured Leopold that the King would not
consent to be saved by the emigrants, because he dreaded their rapacity, and
that the Queen personally had quarrelled with Count d'Artois. lie always
proposed for the welfare of the throne the very contrary to what Calonne
proposed, and he neglected nothing to destroy the effect of this new nego-
tiation. The Count de Durfort returned to Mantua, and on the 20th of
May, 1791, Leopold promised to set in motion thirty-five thousand men in
Flanders, and fifteen thousand in Alsace. He deelared dial a like number
of Swiss should march upon Lyons, as many Piedmontese upon Dauphine",
and that Spain should assemble twenty thousand men. The Emperor pro-
mised the co-operation of the King of Prussia and the neutrality of England
* See Bertram! de Molleville on this subject.
FRENCH REVOLUTION*.
.77
A. protest was to be drawn dp in the name of the house of Bourbon, and
signed liv the King* of Naples, the King of Spaiif , the Infant of Parma, and
the expatriated prince*. Until then the utmost secrecy was to be observed.
It was recommended to Louis XVI. not to think of withdrawing, though he
had expressed a desire to do so. Breteuil, on the contrary, advised the
King to set out. It is possible that this advice was well meant on both
sides. Stdl it must be remarked that it was given with an eye to the inte-
rest of eaeh. Breteuil, with a view to counteract Calonne's negotiation at
Mantua, recommended departure ; and Calonne, whose rule would have been
at an end if Louis XVI. had removed beyond the frontiers, caused it to be
intimated to him that he ought to remain. Be this as it may, the King
resolved to set out, and he frequently said with displeasure, "It is Breteuil
Mho insists on it."* Accordingly he wrote to Bouille" that he was deter-
mined to wait no longer. It was not his intention to leave the kingdom,
but to retire to Montmedy, when* he might, in case of need, be supported
by Luxemburg, and receive foreign aid. The Chalons road, by Clermont
and Varcnues, was preferred, contrary to the advice of Bouille. All the
preparations were made for starting on the 30th of June. The general as-
sembled the troops on which he could place most reliance, prepared a camp
at Montmedy, collected forage, and alleged movements which he perceived
on the frontiers as a pretext for all these dispositions. The Queen took
upon herself all the preparations from Paris to Chalons, and Bouille from
Chalons to Montmedy. Small detachments of cavalry, upon pretext of es-
corting money, were to proceed to different points and receive the King on
his passage. Bouille himself purposed to advance to some distance from
Montmedy. The Queen had secured a private door for quitting the palace.
The royal family was to travel by a foreign name, and with a fictitious pass-
port. Every thing was arranged for the 20th, but some alarm caused the
journey to be deferred until the 21st, a delay which proved fatal to this un-
fortunate family. M. de Lafayette knew nothing whatever of the plan, nay,
even M. de Montmorin, though possessing the confidence of the court, was
entirely ignorant of it: the secret was entrusted to those persons only who *y^
were indispensable for its execution. Rumours of flight had been circu-
lated, either because the scheme had transpired, or because it was one of those
alarms which are so frequently raised. At any rate, the committee of re-
search had been apprized of it, and the vigilance of the national guard had
been in consequence increased.
In the evening of the 21st of June, the King, the Queen, Madame Eliza-
beth,! and Madame de Tourzel, governess of the royal children, disguised
themselves, and successively quitted the palace. Madame De Tourzel pro-
ceeded with the children to the Petit Carrousel, and got into a carriage
driven by M. de Fersen, a young foreign gentleman disguised as a coachman.
The King soon joined them. But the Queen, who had gone away with a life-
guardsman, occasioned them all the utmost anxiety. Neither herself nor
her guide was acquainted with the streets of Paris; she lost her way, and
it was an hour before she found the Petit Carrousel. On her way thither
she met the carriage of M. de Lafayette, whose attendants walked by it
with torches. She concealed herself beneath the wickets of the Louvre, and,
• See Bertrand de MollevilI<\
■J- " Madame Elizabeth was an angel of goodness. How often have I witnessed her kind-
ness to those in distress ! Her heart was the abode of all the virtues. Bhe was indulgent,
modest, sensible, devout, and during the Revolution displayed heroic courage." — Madame
Lebruns Memoirs. E.
vol. I.— 23
178 HISTORY OF THE
having escaped this danger, reached the carriage where she was awaited with
extreme impatience. The whole family, being now together, lost no time
in setting out. They arrived, after a long ride, at the Porte Si. Martin, and
mounted a berline with six horses stationed there to wait for them. Madame
de Tourzel, by the name of Madame de Kuril', was to pass for a mother
travelling with her children; and the King for her valet de chambre. Three
of the life-guards, in disguise, were to precede the carriage as couriers or to
follow it as servants. At length they started, attended by the good wi-hes
of M. de Fersen, who returned to Paris, with the intention of setting out for
Brussels. Meanwhile Monsieur proceeded with his consort towards Flan-
ders, travelling a difl'ercnt road to prevent suspicions, and lest there should
be a want of horses at the different stations.
They travelled all night, during which Paris knew nothing of the matter.
J M. de Fersen hastened to the municipality to ascertain what was known
there. At eight o'clock people were still unacquainted with the circum-
stance. But the report soon got abroad and spread with rapidity. I.
ette sent for his aides-de-camp and ordered them to set out immediately,
saying that though there was little hope of their overtaking the fugitive--,
still they must try what they could do. He issued this order on his own
responsibility, and in drawing it up he expressed his presumption that the
royal family had been carried off by enemies of the public welfare. This
respectful supposition was admitted by the Assembly, and invariably adopted
by all the authorities. At this moment the people, in commotion, re-
proached Lafayette with having favoured the King's escape. The aristo-
cratic party, on the contrary, has since accused him of bavin? winked at his
flight, with the intention of stopping him afterwards, and thus ruining him
by this vain attempt. If, however, Lafayette had chosen to wink at the
King's flight, would he have sent two aides-de-camp in pursuit of him, be-
fore any order was issued by the Assembly? And if, as the aristocrats have
surmised, he had permitted his flight merely with a view to retake him,
would he have allowed the carriage a whole night*fl start? The populaee
was soon convinced of its mistake, and Lafayette reinstated in its good
opinion.
The Assembly met at nine in the morning. Its attitude was as majestic
as it had been in the first days of the Revolution. The supposition adopted
was that Louis XVI. had been carried off. The utmost calmness and har-
mony prevailed during the whole of this sitting. The measures spontane-
ously taken by Lafayette were approved of. The people had stopped his
* " A group in the Palais Royal were discussing, in great alarm, the consequence of the
King's flight, when a man dressed in a threadbare great coat leaped on a chair and addressed
them thus : ' Citizens, listen to a tale which shall not be a long one. A certain well mean-
ing Neapolitan was once on a time startled in his evening walk by the astounding intelli-
gence that the pope was dead. He had not recovered his astonishment, when, behold ! ho
was informed of a new disaster — the King of Naples was also no more. Surely, said the
worthy Neapolitan, the sun must vanish from heaven at such a combination of fat
But they did not cease here. The Archbishop of Palermo, he was informed, had also died
suddenly. Overcome by this last shock, he retired to bed, but not to sleep. In the morning
he was disturbed in his melancholy reverie by a rumbling noise, which he recognised at once
to be the motion of the wooden instrument which makes maccaroni. Aha! says the good
man, starting up, can I trust my ears? 'The Pope is dead — the King of Naples is dead — the
Bishop of Palermo is dead — yet my neighbour the baker still makes maccaroni. Come, the
lives of these grent men arc not then so indispensable to the world after all.' The man in
the greatcoat jumped down and disappeared. 'T have caught his meaning.' said a woman
among the listeners. ' He has told us a tale, and it logins like all talcs — There was once a
King and a Queen: "—Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 17 '
aides-de-camp at the barriers. The Assembly, universally obeyed, ordered
the gates to be opened to them. One Of them, JOOng W. uncut', \ras the
bearer of the decree confirming die orders already issued by die general, and
enjoining the public functionaries to stop, by all the means in their power.
the progress of the said abduction, and to prevent the continuance of the
journey. At the suggestion of the people, and upon the information fur-
nished by them, Romeu!' took, the road to Chalons, which was the light one,
as the appearance upon it of a carriage and six suiliciently indicated. The
Assembly then summoned the ministers, and passed a decree that
should receive orders from it alone. At his departure Louis XVI. had
commanded the minister of justice to send him the seal of state. The
Assembly directed that the seal should be retained for the purpose of being
affixed to its decrees': it decided at the same time that the frontiers should
be put in a state of defence, and that the ministers for foreign affairs should
he charged to assure the powers that the dispositions of the French nation
in regard to them remained unchanged.
M. df la Porte, intendant of the civil list, was then heard. He had
received several messages from the King : among others, a note, which he
begged the Assembly not to open, and a memorial stating the reasons for
departure. The Assembly, ready to pay due regard to all rights, returned,
unopened, the note which M. de la Porte was unwilling to make public, and
ordered the memorial to be read. It was listened to with the utmost calm-
ness. It produced scarcely any impression. The King complained of his
loss of power without sufficient dignity, and he seemed as much mortified
at the reduction of the civil list to thirty millions as at the loss of all his
other prerogatives. The Assembly listened to the complaints of the
monarch, pitied his weakness, and proceeded to the consideration of other
matters.
At this moment very few persons wished for the apprehension of Louis
XVI. The aristocrats beheld in his flight the realization of the oldest of
their wishes, and flattered themselves with the prospect of a speedv civil
war. The most vehement members of the popular party, who already began
to be tired of the King, found in his absence an occasion to dispense with
him, and indulged the idea and the hope of a republic. The whole moderate
party, which at this moment governed the Assembly, wished that the King
might arrive safely at Montmedy; and, relying upon his equity, it flattered
itself that an accommodation between the throne and the nation would be
thereby facilitated. Few persons, at this time, were apprehensive, as
formerly, of seeing the monarch threatening the constitution from amidst an
army. The populace alone, into whom this apprehension had been studi-
ously instilled, continued to retain it when it was no longer felt by the
Assembly, and ardently wished for the recapture of the royal family. Such
Vas the state of things at Paris.*
X The carriage which set out in the night between the 21st and 22d, had
• "The National Assembly never committed so great an error as in bringing back the
King from Varennes. A fugitive and powerless, he was hastening to the frontier, and in a
few hours would have been out of the French territory. What should they have done in
those circumstances ? Clearly have facilitated his escape, and declared the throne vacant by
his desertion. They would thus have avoided the infamy of a regicide government, and
attained their great object of republican institutions. Instead of which, by bringing him
hack, they encumbered themselves with a sovereign whom they had no just reason for
destroying, and lost the inestimable advantage of getting quit of ihe royal family without an
act of cruelty." — Napoleon's Memoirs. E.
180 HISTORY OF THE
performed great part of the journey, and arrived without impediment at
Chalons about five o'clock the next afternoon. There the King, who had
been imprudent enough to put his head frequently out at the window, was
recognised. The person who made this discovery would at once have
divulged the secret, but he was prevented by the mayor, who was a stanch
royalist. On beaching Pont de Sommeville, the royal family did not find
the detachments which ought to have received it there ; those detachments
had been waiting for several hours ; but the excitement of the people,
alarmed at this movement of troops, had obliged them to retire.
The King, meanwhile, arrived at St. Menehould. There, still showing
himself at the window, ho was perceived by Drouet, the postmaster's son,
a violent revolutionist. This young man, not having time to sum the car-
riage to be Uetained at St Menehould, posted on*' to Varennes. A worthy
quartermaster, who had observed his haste, and suspected his m jifvcs, flew
after to stop him, but could not overtake him. Drouet used such speed that
he arrived at Varennes before the unfortunate family. He immediately gave
information to the municipality, and caused all the necessary measures for
apprehending the fugitives to be taken forthwith. Varennes is situated on
the bank of a narrow but deep river. A detachment of hussars was on the
watch there, but the officer not seeing the treasure arrive which he had been
directed to wait for, had left his men in their quarters. The carriage at
length drove up and crossed the bridge. No sooner was it beneath an arch-
way through which it was obliged to pass, than Drouet, assisted by another
X person, stopped the horses. " Your passport!" he exclaimed, and with a
musket he threatened the travellers if they persisted in proceeding. The
order was complied with, and the passport handed to him. Drouet took it,
and said that it must be examined by the solicitor of the commune. The
royal family was then conducted to the house of this solicitor, named Sausse.
The latter, after examining the passport, and pretending to find it quite right,
very politely begged the King to wait ; he accordingly waited a considerable
time. When Sausse had at length ascertained that a sufficient number of
the national guards had assembled, he threw off* all disguise, and informed
the prince that he was recognised and apprehended. An altercation ensued.
Louis declared that he was not what he was taken to be, and the dispute
, growing too warm, "Since you acknowledge him to be your King,"
" ' exclaimed the Queen, angrily, " speak to him with the respect that vou owe
him."
The King, seeing that further denial was useless, took no more trouble to
disguise himself. The little room was full of people. He spoke and
expressed himself with a warmth that was unusual with him. He protested
his good intentions, asserted that he was going to Montmedv. merely that
he might listen more freely to the wishes of his people, by withdrawing from
the tyranny of Paris; lastly, he insisted on eontiiiuin<r his journey, and
being conducted to the end of it. The unfortunate prince, with deep emo-
tion, embraced Sausse. and implored him to save his wife and his children.
The Queen joined him, and, taking the dauphin in her arm*, besought
Sausse to release them. Sausse was affected, but withstood their entreaties,
and advised them to return to Paris, to prevent a civil war. The King, on
the contrary, having a dread of returning, persisted in proceeding to
Montmedv.
At this momenl Messrs. dfl Damas and dc Goquelas arrived, with the
detachments which had been stationed at different points. The royal family
considered itself as saved ; but the hussars were not to be relied on. The
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 181
officers assembled them, informed them that the Kin^r and his family were
apprehended* and that they must release them. The men replied that they
\v re for t ic nation. At the same instant the national guards, called together
from all the environs, arrived and filled Varennes. The whole night was
passed in this state. At six in the morning, young Romeuf arrived with the
decree of the Assembly. He found the carriage with six horses harnessed
to it, and turned towards Paris. He went up stairs and delivered the decree
with pain. A general outery hurst from the whole family against M. de
Lafayette, who caused them to be apprehended. The Queen even expressed
her astonishment that he had not been put to death by the people. Romeuf
replied that his ircneral and himself had only done their duty in pursuing
them, but that they had hoped not to overtake them. The Queen took up
the decree, threw it on the bed of her children, then snatched it up again,
Saying that it would pollute them. " Madame," said Romeuf, who was
attached to her, " would you rather have any one but me to witness these
mis V The Queen then came to herself, and resumed all her dignity.
At the same moment the arrival of different corps, stationed in the environs
by Bouille, was announced. The municipality then gave orders for starting.
The royal family was of course obliged to enter the carriage, and to take i
the road to Paris, that fatal and deeply dreaded course !
Bouille, roused in the middle of the night, had mounted a regiment of
horse, and set out with shouts of "Long live the King!" This brave
general, urged by anxiety, marched with all speed, and proceeded nine
leagues in four hours. He arrived at Varennes, where he found several
corps already collected. But the King had been gone an hour and a half;
Varennes was barricaded, and judicious arrangements had been made for
its defence ; the bridge was broken down, and the river was not fordable.
Thus, after a first combat to carry the barricades, it would have been neces-
sary to seek the means of crossing the river, and, after such a loss of time,
to overtake the carriage, which had got the start by an hour and a half.
These obstacles rendered any attempt at rescue impossible; and it required
nothing short of such an impossibility to deter a man so loyal and so enter-
prising as Bouille. He retired, therefore, overwhelmed with grief and
mortification.
When news of the Kind's apprehension arrived in Paris, he was believed }
to be beyond reach. The people manifested extraordinary joy. The ^
Assembly deputed three commissioners, selected from the three sections of
the left side, to accompany the monarch, and to conduct him back to Paris.
These commissioners were Uarnave, Latour-Maubour<i, and Petion. They
repaired to Chalons, and, from the moment that they joined the court, all
orders emanated from them alone. Madame de Tourzel removed into a
second carriage with Latoor*Maaboarg : Harnave and Petion entered that
of the royal family. L-uour-Mauboursr, a person of distinction, was a
friend of Lafayette, and, like him, was as strongly attached to the Kinrr as
institution. In yielding to his two colleagues the honour of being
with' the royal family, it was his intention to interest, them in behalf of
fallei }s. Barnave v.! at the back, between the King- and Queen ;
i front, between Madame Elisabeth and Madame Royale : the
■ •: dauphin on the lap, first of one and then of another. Such hail hi •
the rapid course of events ! A young advocate of some twenty years,
remarkable only for his abilities, and another, distinguished by his talents,
but, above all, by the stemm ss of his principles, were seated beside a
prince lately the most absolute in Europe, and commanded all his move-
Q
182 HISTORY OF THE
meats. The journey was slow, because the carriage followed the pace of
the national guards. It took eight days to return from Varennes to Paris.
The heat was excessive ; and ;i scorching dust, raised by the multitude,
half suffocated the travellers. At first a deep silence prevailed. The Queen
could not conceal her vexation. The King at Length enured into conversa-
tion with Barnave. It turned upon all sorts of subjects, and lastly upon the
flight to Montmedy. Both were surprised to find the others what they
were. The Queen was astonished at the superior understanding and the
delicate politeness of young Barnave.' !Slie soon threw up her veil and
took part in the conversation. Barnave was touched by the good-nature of
the King and the graceful dignity of the Queen. Petion dis iore
rudeness; he showed and received less resjp.QcL By the time they reached
Paris, Barnave was strongly attached to the unfortunate family, and the
Queen, charmed with the merits and the good sense of the young tribune,
had granted him all her esteem. Hence it was that, in all the intercourse
which she afterwards had with the constitutional deputies, it was in him
that she placed the greatest confidence. Parties would forgive, if they
could see and hear one another.!
* "Ant. Pierre Jos. Marie Barnave was a barrister, and deputy to the States-general. The
son of a very rich attorney of Grenoble, he warmly espoused the revolutionary party, and
was named by the tiers-etat deputy of that town to the States-general. He there showed
himself from the beginning one of the most implacable enemies of the court. He warmly
supported the Tennis-court oath, and declared loudly in favour of the assertion of the rights
of man. In 1790 he voted the abolition of religious orders. At the meeting of the 22d
of May he was one of those who were decidedly of opinion that the King should be de-
prived of the right of making war and peace, and opposed Mirabeau on many great ques-
tions of policy. At the sitting of the 19th of June he demanded that the Assembly should,
before it rose, decree the suppression of all feudal titles and rights. In August be fought a
duel with M. de Cazales, and wounded him with a pistol-shot Barnave had before fought
with the Viscount de Noailles; he had fired first, and missed his adversary, who disch
his pistol in the air; the difference was then adjusted by their friends. At the time of Louis
XVI.'s flight, Barnave showed great presence of mind in the midst of the stupefaction of
the greatest part of the Assembly. On the news arriving of the King's arrest, Barnave was
appointed, together with Petion and Iiatour-Maubourg, to bring the royal family back to
Paris. He returned in the same carriage with them ; showed them great respect, and, by so
doing, lost much of his popularity. In giving an account of his mission, he spoke about
the inviolability of the King's person, for which he was hooted by the Assembly. At the
end of the session Barnave was appointed mayor of Grenoble, where he married the only
daughter of a lawyer, who brought him a fortune of 700,000 livres. Alter the events of
the 10th of August, 1792, certain documents having established the connivance of Barnave
with the court, he was brought before the revolutionary tribunal of Paris, and condemned
to death on the 29th of November, 1793. Barnave was a small, but well-looking man, and
professed protestantism. Few orators of his day possessed so much grace of diction and
sagacity of analysis. Mirabeau himself was astonished that a young man should sneak so
Ion?, so rapidly, and so eloquently, and said of Barnave, 'It is a young tree, which, how-
ever, will mount high, if it be let to grow." — BiographU Modnnu. K.
| The following particulars of the return from Varennes were communicated to Madame
Campan by the Queen herself:
" On the very day of my arrival, the Queen took me into her cabinet, to tell me that she
had great need of my assistance for a correspondence which she had established with Messrs.
Barnave, Duport, ami Alexandre I.ameth. She informed me that M. deJ••• w.i-
agent with these relics bf the constitutional party, who had good intentions, but unfor-
tunately too late; and she added that Barnave was a man worthy to inspire esteem. I was
surprised to hear the name of Barnave uttered with such kindness, When I bnd quitted
Paris, a great number of persons never mentioned it but with horror. I wv.Av this remark
to her; she was not astonished at it, but told mo that he was very much changed : that this
young man, full oi intelligence and noble sentiments, was of the class who are distinguished
education, and merely mislead by the ambition arising from real merit. 'A feeling of
pride, which I cannot blame too much in a young man of the ticra•etat,, said the Queen
i
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 183
In Paris, the reception to be given to the royal family had hern decided
upon. A public notice was distributed and posted everywhere: J/7w- u ^
ever applauds the King shall be flogged} ivhoever instills him shall be \\ ™
hanged. The order was punctually obeyed. Neither applauses nor insults ''
with reference to Barnave, ' has caused him to applaud all that tends to smooth the way to
honours and glory for the class in which he was horn. If power should ever fall again into
our hands, the pardon of Barnave is written beforehand in our hearts.' The Queen added
that the same sentiments were not felt for the nobles who had thrown themselves into the
revolutionary party, they who obtained all favours, and frequently to the detriment of per-
sons of an inferior order, among whom were to be found the most splendid talents ; lastly,
that the nobles, bom to be the rampart of the monarchy, were too culpable in having be-
trayed its cause to deserve pardon. The Queen astonished me more and more by the warmth
with which she justified the favourable opinion that she had formed of Barnave. She theii
told me that his conduct during the journey had been excellent, whilst the republican rude-
ness of Petion had been insulting ; that he ate and drank in the King's carriage with little
regard to delicacy, throwing fowls' bones out at the window, at the risk of hitting the King
in the face, lifting up his glass, when Madame Elizabeth was helping him to wine, without
saying a word to signify that he had had enough ; that this offensive tone was wilfully
assumed, since he was a man of education; and that Barnave had been shocked at it.
Being pressed by the Queen to take something ; ' Madame,' replied Barnave, ■ the deputies
of the National Assembly, under circumstances so solemn, ought to trouble your majesty
solely with their mission and by no means with their wants.' In short, bis respectful
behaviour, his delicate attentions, and all that he said, had won not only her good-will, but
also that of Madame Elizabeth.
" The King had begun to speak to Petion on the situation of France and on the motives
of his conduct, which were grounded on the necessity of giving to the executive power a
force requisite for its action for the welfare of the constitutional act itself, since France
could not be a republic . . . ' Not yet, to be sure,' replied Petion, ' because the French are
not yet ripe enough for that.' This audacious and cruel reply imposed silence on the King,
who maintained it till his arrival at Paris. Petion had the little dauphin on his knees ; he
amused himself with rolling the fair hair of the interesting boy upon his fingers ; and, in
the warmth of talking, he pulled his locks with such force as to make him cry . . . . ' Give
me my child,' said the Queen, ' he is accustomed to kindness, to respect, which unfit him
for such familiarities.'
■ The Chevalier de Dampierre had been killed near the King's carriage, as it left Varcnnes.
A poor village cure, a few leagues from the place where this crime was committed, had die
imprudence to approach for the purpose of speaking to the King: the savages who sur-
rounded the carriage rushed upon him. 'Tigers,' cried Barnave, ' have you ceased to be
French? From a nation of brave men, are you changed into a nation of murderers?'
Nothing but these words saved the cure, who was already struck to the ground, from certain
death. Barnave, ns he uttered them, had almost thrown himself out at the door, and
Madame Elizabeth, touched by this noble warmth, held him back by his coat. In speaking
of this circumstance, the Queen said that in the most critical moments she was always
struck by odd contrasts ; and that, on this occasion, the pious Elizabeth, holding Barnave
by the skirt of his coat, had appeared to her a most surprising thing. That deputy had
experienced a different kind of astonishment. The remarks of Madame Elizabeth on the
state of France, her mild and persuasive eloquence, the noble simplicity with which she
conversed with Barnave, without abating an iota of her dignity, all appeared to him celestial
in that divine princess, and his heart, disposed undoubtedly to noble sentiments, if he had
not pursued the way of error, was subdued by the most touching admiration. The conduct
of the two deputies showed the Queen the total separation between the republican party and
the constitutional party. At the inns where she alighted, she had some private conversations
with Barnave. The latter talked much of the blunders of the royalists in the Rov>.Iution,
and said that he had found the interests of the court so feebly, so injudiciously, defended,
that he h»d several times been tempted to make it an olfer of a bold champion, acquuinted
with the spirit of the ui^e and that of the nation. The Queer^asked what were the means
that he should have advised resorting to. ' Popularity, madam.' — 'And how could I have
any?' replied her majesty. 'It had been taken from me.' — 'Ah, madam! it was much
easier for you to conquer it than for mo to obtain it.' This assertion would furni,!i matter
for comment : my task is merely to record this curious comcrsution." — Muifires de Ma-
dame de Campan, tome ii., p. 150, et seq. E.
184 HISTORY OF THE «
were heard. The carriage made a circuit, that it might not be obliged to
traverse Paris. It entered by the Champs Klysces. which led directly to
the palace. An immense crowd received it in silence, and with hats om
Lafayette, followed hy a numerous guard, had taken all possible precau-
tions. The three life-guard>mcn who had agisted die King's flight were
on the box, exposed to the gaze and the wrath of the people : they never-
theless experienced no violence* The moment the carriage arrived at the
palace, it was surrounded. The royal family hastily alighted, and passed
between a double file of national guards, drawn up for its protection. The
Queen, who was the last to alight* was almost borne along in the arms of
Messrs. de Noailles and d'Aiguillon, enemies of the court, but generous
friends of misfortune. On observing them approach, she had at first some
doubts respecting their intentions; but she resigned herself to them, and
arrived safe and unharmed at the palace.
Such was that journey, the fatal issue of which cannot be fairly attributed
to any of those by whom it was planned. An accident thwarted it. An
accident might have crowned it with success. If. for instance, Drouet had
been overtaken and stopped by his pursuer, the carriage would have escaped.
Perhaps too, the King was deficient in energy when he was recognised.
Be that as it may, this journey cannot be matter of reproach to any one,
either to those who advised, or to those who executed it. It was the result
of that fatality which pursues weakness amidst revolutionary en
The journey to Varennes had the effect of destroying all respect for the
King, of habituating men's minds to do without him, and of exciting a wish
for a republic. On the very morning of his arrival, the Assembly had pro-
vided for everything by a decree. Louis XVI. was suspended from his
functions; a guard was placed over his person, and that of the Queen and
the dauphin. That guard was made responsible for their sate custody.
Three deputies, d'Andre, Tronchet, and Duport, were commissioned to
take the declarations of the King and Queen. The Qtmosl delicacy was
observed in the expressions ; for never was this Assembly deficient in deco-
rum ; but the result was evident, and the King was lor the time being
dethroned. ^\
The responsibility imposed on the national guard rendered it strict and
frequently annoying in its duty about the royal persons. Sentinels were
constantly stationed at their door, and never lost sight of them. The King,
wishing one day to ascertain if he was really a prisoner, went up to a door;
•"Lafayette went forward to meet the procession. During his absence an imm- ■
crowd had been allowed to approach the Tuileries ; am) endeavoured, as the royal family
were alighting, to maltreat the two gardes-du-eorps who had served as couriers during the
escape, and were then seated on the box of the King's carriage. The Queen, anxious for
their safety, no sooner saw the commander-in-chief, than she exclaimed, S .rdes-
du-corps ;' on which Lafayette placed them himself in security in one of the halls of the
palace. The royal family alighted without having experienced any insult*. The King
was apparently calm ; Lafayette then, with ■ feeling of mingled reaped and emotion, pre-
sented himself at the King's apartment, and said In him, ' Has your majesty any orders to
give me?' — ' It appears to me,' replied the King, with a smile, ' that I am more under your
orders than you are under mino.' Lafayette then respectfully announced to him the d
of the Assembly, at which the King testified no displeasure. The Queen, however, !« :
some irritability, and wished to force Lafayette to receive the keys of the desks, which had
remained in the carriage. He replied, that no person thought, or would think, of opening
those desks. The Queen then placed the keys on Ins bat, Lafayette requested her to par-
don the trouble he gave her of taking back those keys, and declared that he would not
touch them. — ' Wei!,' said the Queen, impatiently, ' I abas' find persons less scrupulous than
you are.' " — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 185
the sentinel opposed his passage. "Do you know me?" said Louis XVI.
" Yes, sire," replied the sentinel. All the liberty the King had left to him
was t<> walk in the Tulleries in the morning, before the garden was opened
to the public.
Haniave and the Lameths then did what they had so severely reproached
Miralvau for doing — they lent their aid to the throne and reconciled them-
mItm with the court. It is true that they received no money: but it was
not so much the price of the alliance, as the alliance itself, that they had
flung in the teeth of Mirabeau ; and, after having formerly been so severe,
they now followed the custom of all popular chiefs, which is, to ally them-
selves successively with power, as soon as they arrive at it. However,
lothtnir could be more praiseworthy in the state of affairs at that moment,
lan the service rendered to the King by Bamave and the Lameths ; and
never did they display more address, energy, and talent. Bamave dictated
the answer of the Kin? to the commissioners appointed by the Assembly.
In this answer, Louis XVI. assigned as the motive for his flight a desire to
make himself better acquainted with the state of public opinion ; he de-
clared that he had learned much on that head during his journey, and
proved hv a variety of facts that it had not been his intention to leave France.
As for the protestations contained in his memorial transmitted to the Assem-
bly, lie justly alleged that they bore not upon the fundamental principles of
the constitution, but upon the means of execution that were left him.
Now, lie added, that the general will was clearly manifested to him, he did
not hesitate to submit to it, and to make all the sacrifices requisite for the
public welfare.*
• Here is the answer itself, the composition of Bamave, and a model of reasoning, ad-
dress, and dignity :
" I see, gentlemen," said Louis XVI. to the commissioners, " I see by the object of the
mission which is given to you, that here is no question of an examination ; I will therefore
answer the inquiries of the Assembly. I shall never be afraid of making public the motives
of my conduct. It was the insults and menaces offered to my family and myself on the 18th
of April, that were the cause of my departure from Paris. Several publications have endea-
voured to provoke acts of violence against my person and against my family. I deemed that
there would not be safety, or even decency, for me to remain longer in this city. Never wai
it my intention to leave the kingdom ; I had had no concert on this subject, either with
foreign powers or with my relatives, or with any of the French emigrants. I can state in
proof of my intentions, that apartments were provided at Montmedy for my reception. I
had selected this place, because, being fortified, my family would be safer there ; because,
being near the frontiers, I should have been better able to oppose every kind of invasion of
France, had a disposition been shown to attempt any. One of the principal motives for
quitting Paris was to set at rest the argument of my non-freedom, which was likely to furnish
: -a t'«>r disturbances. If I had harboured an intention of leaving the kingdom, I should
not have published my memorial on the very day of my departure; I should have waited
till I was beyond the frontiers ; but I always entertained the wish to return to Paris. It is
in this sense that the last sentence in my memorial must be taken, where it is said, ' French-
men, and, above all, Parisians, what pleasure shall I feel in finding myself again in your
midst !' I had in my carriage but three thousand louis in gold, and fifty-six thou-
sand livres in assignats. I did not warn Monsieur of my departure till a very short time
before. Monsieur has gone into another country only because he had agreed with me that
we should not both take the same route ; he was to come back into France to mc. The
w requisite to facilitate my journey ; it purported to be for a foreign country
marly because the office for foreign affairs gives none for the interior of the kingdom. The
road to Frankfort was not even taken. I have made no protest but in the memorial which I
left l>ofore my departure. That protest does not bear, as the tenor of it attests, upon the
groundwork of the principles of the constitution, but on the form of sanctions ; that is to
say, on the little literty that I appeared to enjoy, and on the circumstance that, as the de-
crees had not been laid before me en maste, I could not judge of the constitution as a whole,
vol. I. — 24 q 2
186 HISTORY OF THE
Bouille, in order to draw upon himself the indignation of the Assembly,
addressed to it a letter, which might be called m;ul, but for the generous
motive which dictated it. He avowed himself the sole author of the King's
journey, though, on the contrary, he had opposed it. He declared, in the
name of the sovereigns, that Paris should be responsible for the safety of the
royal family, and that the slightcstSnjury offered to them should be signally
avenged. He added, what he knew to be otherwise, that the military means
of France were nearly null ; that he was well acquainted with the points
where an invading force might enter, and that he would himself lead the
hostile armies into the heart of the country. The Assembly winked at this
generous bravado, and threw the whole blame on Bouille, who had nothing
to fear, for he was already abroad.
The court of Spain, apprehending that the slightest movement might pro-
duce irritation and expose the royal family to still greater dangers, prevented
an attempt that was about to be made on the southern frontier, in which the
Knights of Malta were to assist with two frigates. It then declared to the
French government that its good disposition towards it remained unchanged.
The north behaved with much less moderation. On that side, the powers,
instigated by the emigrants, began to threaten. Envoys were despatched
by the King to Brussels and Coblentz, to come to an understanding with
the emigrants in those places, to acquaint them with the favourable disposi-
tion of the Assembly, and the hopes entertained of an advantageous arrange-
ment. But, no sooner had they attired than they were treated with
indignity, and immediately returned to Paris. The emigrant! raised troops
in the name of the King, and thus obliged him to give them a formal contra-
diction. They pretended that Monsieur, who had by this time joined them,
was regent of the kingdom ; that the King, being a prisoner, had no will of
his own, and that which he expressed was only the will of his oppressors.
The peace concluded by Catherine with the Turks in the month of August
heightened their senseless joy, and they fancied that they had all the powers
of Europe at their disposal. Considering the disarming of the fortresses,
and the disorganization of the army, which all the officer! were (earing,
they could not suppose the result of the invasion to be doubtful or the fitting
time for it far distant. They had nevertheless been out of France nearly
two years, and, though daily flattering themselves with the prospect, they
had not yet returned victorious. The powers seemed to promise much, hut
Pitt hung back; Leopold, exhausted by the war, and displeased with the
emigrants, wished for peace; the Kin^ of Prussia promised a great deal,
hot had no interest in keeping his word ; Gustarus was anxious to command
an expedition against Prance, but he was at a great distan atherine,
who was to second him, had scarcely ir«>t rid of the Turks, and still had
Poland to reduce. Besides, in order to effect this coalition, it woidd be
. to reconcile so many conflicting interests, that it was
possible to entertain any hope of success.
The chief reproach contained in the memorial relates to the difficulties in the moan* of
administrate"] and execution. I have ascertained daring my journey tli.it public opinion
was decided In favour of the constitution ; I did not conceive that I could judge fully of this
public opinion in Paris; bat, from the observations which I have personally made during
my journey, I am convinced how necessary it is for the support of the constitution to give
strength to tlv p isbod for the maintenance of public order. As eoon as I had
ascertained the general will, I hesitated not, as I never ha\' to m ike a sacrifi
everything that is personal to me. The happiness of the people baa alw iya been the object
of my wishes. I will gladly forget all tho crosses that I have experienced, if I can but insure
the peace and felicity of the nation."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 187
The declaration of l'ilnitz ought more especially to have enlightened the
emigrants respecting the zeal of the sovereigns. This declaration, issued
jointly by the King of Prussia ami the Emperor Leopold, purported that the
situation of the King of France was a suhjcct of general interest to all the
sovereigns, and that they would undoubtedly unite to furnish Louis XVI.
with the means of establishing a government Suitable to the interests of the
throne and of the people ; that, in this case, the King of Prussia and the
eror would join the other princes, to attain the same end. Meanwhile
their troops should he put into a condition for active service. It was after-
is known that this declaration contained secret articles. They pur-
ported thai Austria would not oppose any obstacle, to the claims of Prussia
to part of Poland. It required this concession to induce Prussia to neglect
her more ancient interests by connecting herself with Austria against France.
"What could he expected from a zeal that it was necessary to excite by such
means > And if it was so reserved in its expressions, what was it likely to
be in its acts I Fiance, it is true, was in a disarmed state; hut a whole
nation aroused is soon armed ; and, as the Celebrated Carnoi observed at a
later period, what is impossible to twenty-live millions of men? It is true
that the officers wen; retirimr, but, being generally young and owing their
appointment to favour, they were inexperienced and disliked by the army.
Besides, the impetus given to all the resources of war was on the point of
speedily producing officers and generals. Still, it must be confessed that,
even without the presumption of Coblentz, one might fairly "have doubted
the resistance which France opposed somewhat later to her invaders.
.Meanwhile, the Assembly sent commissioners to the frontiers and ordered
great preparations. All the national guards offered to march. Several
generals tendered their services, and among others Dumouriez,* who sub-
sequently saved France in the defiles of Argonne.
The Assembly, while attending to the external safety of the state, hastened
to complete its constitutional labours, to restore to the King his functions,
and if possible some of his p re ro natives.
All the subdivisions of the left side, excepting the men who had just
. the new name of republicans, had rallied around one and the same
system of moderation. Barnave and Malouet went hand in hand and
laboured in concert. Petion, Robespierre, Huzot, and some others had
adopted the republic ; hut their numher was small. The riirhtside persisted
in its imprudent conduct, and protested, instead of joining the moderate
majority. Tins majority, however, governed the Assembly. Its enemies,
who would have accused it, if it had dethroned the King, nevertheless
• " Dumouricz, born at Cambrav, and descended from n Provencal family engaged in the
law, wi- forty-seven years of age at the commencement of the Revolution. ITp to that time
lie li.ii! lived amidst intrigues, which he was but too fond of engaging in. The tirst part of
his political life was spent in discovering those by whose help he might rise; and the second,
in discovering those who were able to support his elevation. A courtier before 1789; a con-
stitutional under the tirst Assembly; a Girondin under the second ; and a Jacobin under the
republic, he was eminently the creature of the time. But he had all the resources of great
men ; an enterprising disposition, indefatigable activity, and prompt, accurate, and extended
views; extraordinary impetuosity in action, end unbounded confidence in success. He
ink, ingenious, clever, bold, equally fitted for the council and the field; lull
of expedients, and knowing how to submit to the misfortune of a dim. ult position until he
could change it. It must l>e admitted, however, that these tine qualities were injured by
Dumouriez was ra^h, thoughtless, and extremely capricious, in c.'ii-eijuenc*
of his continual thirst for action. But his great fault was, want of all political principle." —
Mi<met. e. mm
188 • HISTORY OF THE
reproached it for having brought him back to Paris and replaced him on a
tottering throne. But what could it do? To supersede the King by a
republic would have been too hazardous. To change the dynasty would
have been useless ; for if they meant to give themselves a Kim:, they might
as well keep the one they had. Besides, the Duke of Orleans did not
deserve to be preferred to Louis XVI. In either case, to dispossess the
reigning King would have been to infringe acknowledged rights, and to send
to the emigrants a chief of inestimable value to them, since he would have
brought them titles which they did not possess. On the contrary, to <.rive
back to Louis XVI. his authority, to restore to him as many of his preroga-
tives as they could, would be fulfilling their constitutional task, and taking
away all pretext for civil war. In a word, it would be doing their dutv ;
for the duty of the Assembly, according to all the engagement* by which
it had bound itself, was to establish a free, but a monarchical, govern-
ment. *
The Assembly did not hesitate, but it had great obstacles to surmount. The
new term republic had piqued minds already spmewhat tired of those of
monarchy and constitution. The absence and the suspension of the King
had, as we have seen, taught them to do without him. The journals and
the clubs instantly threw off the respect which had hitherto been paid to his
person. His departure, which, according to the terms of the decree rela-
tive to the residence of public functionaries, rendered deposition imminent,
caused it to be asserted that he was deposed. Nevertheless, according to
the same decree, before he could incur the penalty of dethronement, ho must
have left the kingdom and resisted the summons of the legislative bod v.
But these conditions were of little consequence to overheated minds, and
they declared the King guilty and dethroned. The Jacobins and the Cor-
deliers were violently agitated, and could not conceive how it was that,
after people had got rid of the King, they could burden themselves with him
again, and that of their own accord. If the Duke of Orleans had ever enter-
tained hopes, it was now that they might have been awakened. But he
must have seen how little influence his name possessed, and above all how
ill a new sovereign, however popular he might be, would harmonize with the
state of people's minds. Some pamphleteers devoted to his interests, endea-
voured, perhaps without his knowledge, to place the crown on his head, as
Antony did by Caesar: they proposed to give him the regency, but he found
himself obliged to decline the offer in a declaration, which was thought as
lightly of, as himself. "No King!" was the general cry at the Jacobins,
at the Cordeliers, in the streets, and in the public papers.
Numberless addresses were published. One of these was posted on all
the walls of Paris, and even on those of the Assembly. It was signed with
the name of Achille Duchatelet, a young colonel. He addressed himself to
the French: he reminded them of the tranquillity which had prevailed
daring the journey of the king, and thence concluded that his absence was
more, beneficial than his presence: he added that his lliirht was an abdica-
tion; that the nation anil Louis XVI. were released from all engagement!
towards one another; finally, that history was full of the crimes of Kings,
and that the people ought to renounce all intention of giving themael
another.
Tllis address, attributed to young Duchatelet, was written by Thomas
Paine, an Englishman, and a principal actor in the American Revolution.*
'Thomas Paine was bom in 1737, at Thetford, in Norfolk, whore his father, a Quaker,
waa a staymaker. He received hia education at a grammar-school in his native place. In
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 189
iMvas denounced to the Assembly, which, after a warm debate, damned it
r^\t to pass to the order of the day, and to reply by iadifferenee to advice
and to abtt&e, as it had hitherto invariably done.
At length, liif commissioners charged to make their report on the affair
of Varenoea presented it on the 16th of July. In the journey, they
there w a- nothing culpable; and even if there were, the King WU invio-
lable. Dethronement could not result from it, since the King had not staid
away h.ng enough, and had not resisted the summons of the legislative
body.
Robespierre, Buzot, and Petion, repeated all the well known arguments
against the inviolability. Duport, Bamave, and Salles, answered them, and
it was at length resolved that the King could not be brought to trial on
account of his flight. Two articles were merely added to the decree of
inviolability. No sooner was this resolution passed than Robespierre rose,
and protested strongly against it, in the name of humanity.
On the evening preceding this decision, a great tumult had taken place at
the Jacobins. A petition to the Assembly was there drawn up, praying it
to declare that the King was deposed as a perfidious traitor to his oaths, and
that it would seek to supply his place by all the constitutional means. It
was resolved that this petition should be carried on the following day to the
Champ de Mars, where every one might sign it on the altar of the country.
Next day, it was accordingly carried to the place agreed upon, and the
crowd of the seditious was reinforced by that of the curious, who wished to
be spectators of the event. At this moment the decree was passed, so that
it was now too late to petition. Lafayette arrived, broke down the barri-
cades already erected, was threatened and even fired at, but, though almost
close to the muzzle of the weapon, he escaped without injury. The muni-
cipal officers having joined him, at length prevailed on the populace to retire.
National guards were posted to watch their retreat, and for a moment it
was hoped they would disperse. But the tumult was soon renewed. Two
invalids, who happened to be, nobody knows for what purpose, under the
altar of the country, were murdered, and then the uproar became unbounded.
The Assembly sent for die municipality, and charged it to preserve public
order. Bailly repaired to the Champ de Mars, ordered the red flag to be
unfurled, and, by virtue of martial law, summoned the seditious to retire.
early life he followed his father's business, and afterwards became a grocer and exciseman at
Lewes, but was dismissed for keeping a tobacconist's shop, which was incompatible with his
duties. In 1774 he went to America, and became editor of the Pennsylvania Magazine.
Hostilities having commenced between England and the United States, he composed his
celebrated pamphlet, ' Common Sense,' which was written with great vigour, and for which
the legislature of Pennsylvania voted him five hundred pounds. He was soon afterwards
appointed clerk to the committee for foreign affairs; when he published a series of political
appeals, which he entitled the 'Crisis*' In 1787 he embarked for France, and, after visiting
Paris, went to England. On the appearance of « Burke's Reflections on the French Revolu-
tion,' ho wrote his well known 'Rights of Man,' for which he was prosecuted; but, while
the trial was pending, he was chosen member of the National Convention for the depart-
ment of Calais, and, making his escape, he set out for France. On the trial of Louis XVI.
he voted against the sentence of death, which offended the Jacobins, who in 1793 ordered
him to I* committed to the Luxembourg. Just previous to his confinement he had finished his
* Age of Reason ;' which, when published, lost him the greater part of his American con-
nexions. On the fall of Robespierre he was released, and remained in France till 1802, when
he embarked again for America. His subsequent life was by no means happy; for, though
possessed of a decent competence, yet his attacks on religion, and his habitual intemperance,
had greatly narrowed the circle of his friends. He died in 1809, in his seventy-third year."
Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
eople either
hem, it #ts
ething fixed,
190 HISTORY OF THE
This summons, whatever has been said of it, was just. People
agreed or did not agree to the new laws. If they agreed to them,
requisite that they should be executed, that there should be somet
that insurrection should not be perpetual, and that the will of the Assembly
should not be modified by the decisions of the mob. It was Bailly's duty,
therefore, to carry the law into execution. He advanced, with that unshrink-
ing courage which he had always displayed, was fired at several times with-
out being hit, and at length read tho customary summons. Lafayette at first
ordered a few shots to be fired in the air: the crowd quitted the altar of the
country, but soon rallied. Thus driven to extremity, lie gave the word,
Fire! The first discharge killed some of the rioters. Their number has
been exaggerated. Some have reduced it to thirty, others have raised it to
four hundred, and others to several thousand. The last statement was
believed at the moment, and the consternation became general. This severe
example quieted the agitators for a short time. As usual all the parties
were accused of having excited the commotion, and it is probable that seve-
ral of them had a hand in it, for to several tumult was desirable. The King,
the majority of the Assembly, the national guard, the municipal and depart-
mental authorities, were then unanimous for the establishment of constitu-
tional order; but they had to combat the democracy at home, and the
aristocracy abroad. The Assembly and the national guard composed that
middle class, wealthy, intelligent, and prudent, which wished well to order
and the laws ; and they could not at the moment but naturally ally them-
selves with the King, who, for his part, seemed to resign himself to a limited
power. But, if it suited them to stop at the point at which they had arrived,
it did not suit either the aristocracy, which desired a convulsion, or the
people, who sought to gain and to raise themselves still more. Bamave
was, as Mirabeau had been before him, the mouthpiece of this wise and
moderate middle class ; and Lafayette was its military chief. Danton and
Camille Desmoulins* were the spokesmen, and Santerre the general, of the
rabble, that wished to reign in its turn. A few ardent or fanatic spirits
represented this rabble either in the Assembly or in the new administrations,
and hastened its rule by their declamations.
* "B. Camille Desmoulins, a lawyer, born at Guise, in Picardy, in 1762, was the son of
the lieutenant-general of the bailiwick of Guise. His appearance was vulgar, his complexion
swarthy, and his looks unprepossessing. He made his first appearance at the bar to plead
against his own father, whom he wanted to make him a greater allowance than he could
afford. At the very commencement of the Revolution he formed an intimate acquaintance
with Robespierre. In July, 1789, he harangued a large mob in the Palais Royal with a
brace of pistols in his hand, and assumed the appellation of attorney-general of the lamp-poet.
In 1792 he was appointed secretary to Danton, and organized with him the September mas-
sacres. He asserted frequently that society consisted of two classes of men — gentlemen and
sansculottes ; and that, in order to save the republic, it was necessary to take the purses of
the one, and put arms into the hands of the other. His connexion with Danton was his
ruin; and his sentence of death, the word 'clemency,' which he recommended in his journal
of the 'Old Cordelier.' He was arrested in 1794, and, during his imprisonment he gave
himself up alternately to rage and despair. His favourite studies were the works of Young
and Hervey. When led to execution, at the age of thirty-three, he made the most violent
efforts to avoid getting into the cart His shirt was in tatters, and his shoulders Imre; his
eyes glared, and he foamed at the mouth, crying out while he ascended tho scaffold, * This,
then, is the reward reserved for the first apostle of liberty ! The monsters who assassinate
me will not survive me long.' His wife, whom he adored, and by whom he was as warmly
beloved, beautiful, courageous, and sensible, begged to share his fate, and ten days afterwards,
Robespierre sent her to the scaffold, where she exhibited much more firmness than her hus-
band." Biographic Modernt. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. l&l
Lafayette and Bailly wore vehemently reproached for the proceedings in
the Champ de Mars; hut hoth of them, considering it their duty to observe
the law, and to risk, popularity and life in its execution, i'clt neither regret,
nor fear, lor what they had done.* The factions were overawed by the
energy which they displayed. The most conspicuous began already to think
of recoiling from the blows which they conceived to be aimed at them.
Kobes|)Hnv, whom we have hitherto seen supporting the most extravagant
propositions, trembled in his obscure habitation: and, notwithstanding his
inviolability as a deputy, applied to all his friends for an asylum. Thus the
example had the desired effect, and for a moment all the turbulent spirits
were quieted by fear.
About this time the Assembly came to a determination which has since
been censured, but the result of which did not prove so mischievous as it
has been supposed. It decreed that none of its members should be re-elected.
Robespierre was the proposer of this resolution, and it was attributed to the
envy which he felt against his colleagues, among whom he had not shone.
It was at least natural that he should bear them a grudge, having always
been opposed by them ; and in his sentiments there might have been at once
conviction, envy, and hatred. The Assembly, which was accused of a de- , /
sign to perpetuate its powers, and which, moreover, displeased the rabble by J+J**f
its moderation, was anxious to reply to all censures by a disintereste'dness
that was perhaps exaggerated ; and it decreed that its members should be/ .
excluded from the next legislature. The new Assembly was thus deprived!
of men whose enthusiasm was somewhat abated, and whose legislative
science was matured by an experience of three years. However, when we
see by and by the cause of the subsequent revolutions, we shall be able to
judge what was the importance of that measure which has been sofrequently
condemned.
This was the moment for completing the constitutional labours of the
Assembly, and for bringing its stormy career to a calm conclusion. The
members of the left side intended, by means of an agreement among them-
selves, to amend certain parts of the constitution. It had been resolved that
it should be read throughout, in order to judge of the whole together, and to
have an opportunity of making its different parts harmonize. This was
called the revision, which was afterwards, in the days of the republican fer-
vour, considered as most calamitous. Bamave and the Lameths had agreed
with Malouet to modify certain articles, which trenched upon the royal pre-
rogative and what was termed the stability of the throne. It was even said
that the plan was to re-establish the two chambers. It was arranged that,
the moment the reading was finished, Malouet should make his attack ; that
Barnave should then reply with vehemence, in order the better to disguise
his intentions ; but that, in defending most of the articles, he should give up
some as evidently dangerous, and condemned by known experience.
Such were the conditions agreed upon when the ridiculous and dangerous
protests of the right side, which had resolved to vote no more, transpired.
Accommodation then became impossible. The left side would hear no
more, and, when the concerted attempt was made, the cries which burst from
• " Bailly did not seek the Revolution, but it sought him, by making him play a political
part against his will ; but from the moment that he conceived he might be useful to his
country, he would not refuse to serve it. He devoted to it moments most valuable for science ;
and when we deplored the suspension of his labours, he said to us, ' I am a Frenchman, and
if I can co-operate in the enactment of a good law, that is preferable to a hundred astrono-
mical calculations.' " — Memoirs of a Peer of France. E.
192 , HISTORY OF THE
all quarters, prevented Malouet and his partisans from proceeding.* The
constitution was therefore completed with some haste, and submitted to the
King for his acceptance. From that moment his freedom was restored to
him; or, if that expression be objected to, the strict watch kept over the
• Bouiile had an intimate friend in Count de Gouvernet ; and, though they differed widely
in their opinions, each entertained a high esteem for the other. Bouiile, who does not spare
the constitutionalists, expresses himself in the most honourable manner towards M^de Gou-
vernet, and seems to place the utmost confidence in him. To give in his Memoirs an idea
of what was passing in the Assembly at this period, he quotes the following letter, addressed
to him by Count de Gouvernet on the 26th of August, 1791 :
■ I have held out hopes to you which I no longer entertain. That fatal constitution, which
was to be revised and amended, will not be touched. It will remain what it is— ^a code of
anarchy, a source of calamities ; and, owing to our unlucky star, at the moment when the
democrats themselves begin to be sensible of some of their errors, it is the aristocrats, who, by
refusing their support, oppose their reparation. In order to enlighten you and to justify
myself for having perhaps imparted to you a false hope, I must go back a little in my account
of things, and tell you all that has passed, since I have to-day a safe opportunity of writing
to you.
" On the day of the King's departure, and the following day, the two sides of the Assembly
were closely watching each other's movements. The popular party was in great consterna-
tion ; the royalist party extremely uneasy. The least indiscretion would have been liable to
awaken the fury of the people. All the members of the right side were silent, and those of
the othfcr left their leaders to propose measures, which they called measures of softly, and
which were not opposed by any one. On the second day after the King's departure, the
Jacobins became menacing, and the constitutionalists moderate. They were then and they
still are much more numerous than the Jacobins. They talked of accommodation, of a depu-
tation to the King. Two of them proposed to M. Malouet conferences which were to be
opened the following day ; but news arrived of the King's apprehension, and then no further
mention was made of them. Their opinions, however, having been manifested, theyTound
themselves, from that very circumstance, separated more than ever from the furious. The
return of Barnave, the respect which he had paid to the King and Queen, while the ferocious
Petion insulted their misfortunes, and the gratitude which their majesties testified to Barnave,
have in some measure changed the heart of that young man, which till then knew no pity.
He is, as you know, the ablest and one of the most influential of his party. He had, there-
fore, rallied around him four-fifths of the left side, not only to save the King from the fury of
the Jacobins, but to restore to him part of his authority, and to furnish him also with the
means of defending himself in future, by keeping in the constitutional line. In regard to the
latter part of Barnave's plan, nobody was in the secret but Lameth and Duport ; for the
constitutional crowd still gave them so much uneasiness that they could not reckon upon a
majority of the Assembly, without including the right side ; and they conceive that they
might rely upon it, when, in revising their constitution, they should give greater latitude to
the royal authority.
" Such was the state of things when I wrote to you. But convinced as I was of the
awkwardness of the aristocrats and their continual blunders, I was not aware how far they
could go.
" When the news of the King's apprehension at Varenncs arrived, the right side, in the
secret committees, determined to vote no more, and to take no further part in the deliberations
or the discussions of the Assembly. Malouet disapproved this course. He represented to
them that, whilst the session lasted and they attended it, they were bound to make an active
opposition to measures injurious to public order and to the fundamental principles of the
monarchy. All his remonstrances were useless ; they persisted in their resolution, and
secretly drew up a protest against all that was doing. Malouet declared that he would con-
tinue to protest in the tribune, and to make ostensibly all possible efforts to prevent the evil.
He told me that he had not been able to bring over to his opinion more than thirty-five o*
forty members of the right side, and that he much feared that this false step of the most zeal-
ous royalists would be productive of mischievous consequences.
"The general dispositions of the Assembly were then so favourable to the King, that,
while be was coming back to Paris, Thouret, having ascended the tribune to determine the
manner in which the King should be guarded (I was at the sitting), the utmost silence pre-
vailed in the hall and in the galleries. Almost all the deputies, even of the left side, looked
confounded, during the reading of that fatal decree, but no one spoke. The president was
FRENCH REVOLUTION. H|
palace eeased, and be had liberty to retire whithersoever be pleased, to ex-
amine the constitutional act and to accept it freely. What was LOOM \ \ I.
to (Id in th To reject the constitution would have been to abdicate
in favour of a republic. The safest way, even according to his own system,
i accept it, and to expect from time those restitutions of power which
lie considered as due to him. Accordingly, after a certain number of days,
he declared that he accepted the constitution. An extraordinary joy hurst
forth arthis intelligence, as if in fact some obstacle had been anticipated on
the part of the King, and his assent had been an unhoped-for concession.
He repaired to the Assembly, where he was received as in the most brilliant
Lafayette, who never forgot to repair the inevitable evils of political
troubles, proposed a genera] amnesty for all acts connected with the Revolu-
tion, which was proclaimed amidst shouts of joy, and the prisons were
instantly thrown open. At length* on the 30th of September, Thouret, the
last president, declared that the Constituent Assembly had terminated its *
sittings.
going to put it to the vote, when Malouet abruptly rose, and with indignant look, exclaimed,
• What are you about, gentlemen 1 After apprehending the King, it is proposed that you
should constitute him prisoner by a decree. Whither will this step lead you ? Have you
considered that? Would you order the King to be imprisoned V — 'No! No!' cried several
members of the left side, rising tumultuously ; ' we mean not that the King should be a pri-
soner ;' and the decree was on the point of being rejected almost unanimously, when Thouret
hastily added ; — 'The last speaker has not justly comprehended the terms and the object of
the decree. We have no intention, any more than he, to imprison the King ; it is for his
safety and that of the royal family that we propose these measures.' And it was not till after
this explanation that the decree passed, though the imprisonment became an absolute reality,
and is continued to this day without shame.
"At the end of July, the constitutionalists, who suspected the protest of the right side,
without having any certainty of it, proceeded leisurely with their plan of revision. They
dreaded the Jacobins and the aristocrats more than ever. Malouet went to their committee
of revision. He at first addressed them as men who had nothing to learn respecting the
dangers and the faults of their constitution ; but he found them less disposed in favour of
great reforms. They were afraid of losing their popularity. Target and Duport opposed his
arguments, and defended their work. Ne t day he met Chapelier and Barnave, who at first
disdainfully refused to answer his provocations, and at length agreed to the plan of attack, all
the risks of which he was ready to incur. He proposed to discuss, in the sitting of the 8th,
all the principal points of the constitutional act and to point out all its vices. ' You, gentle-
men,' said he, * answer me. Overwhelm me unanimously with your indignation. Defend
your work with advantage on the least dangerous articles, even on the plurality of the points,
against which my censure will be levelled ; and as for those which I shall characterize as
anti-monarchical, as preventing the action of the government, say that neither the Assembly
nor the committee needed my remarks on that head ; that you intend to propose their reform ;
and forthwith propose it. Be assured that it is our only resource for upholding the monarchy,
and for returning in time to give all the supjxnt that is necessary for it.' This was accord-
ingly agreed upon : but, the protest of the right side having become known, and its persever-
ance in not voting having deprived the constitutionalists of all hope of succeeding in their
plan of revision, which the Jacobins opposed with all their might, they gave it up. Malouet,
who had no regular communications with them, nevertheless made his attack. He solemnly
rejected the constitutional act as anti-monarchical, and as impracticable of execution in
several points. The development of his motives had begun to produce a considerable im-
pression, when Chapelier, who had no further hope from the execution of the agreement,
broke it, crying blasphemy, interrupting the speaker, and requiring that he should be ordered
to leave the tribune : which was accordingly done. Next day he acknowledged that he was
in the wrong ; but he said that he and his partisans had lost all hope, from the moment when
they had no further aid to expect from the right side.
" I was obliged to relate to you this long history lest you should lose all confidence in my
prognostics. They are gloomy, now : the evil is extreme ; and to repair it, I perceive, either
within or without, but one remedy, which is the union of force with reason." — Memoirtt de
Bouilie, p. 288, et acq.
vol. i. — 25 R
194 HISTORY OF THE
THE NATIONAL LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY.
The Constituent Assembly had now terminated its long and laborious
career; and, notwithstanding its noble courage, its perfect equity, and its
immense toils, it was hated as revolutionary at Coblentz, and as aristocratic
at Paris. In order to form a proper judgment of this memorable Assembly,
which combined talents so great and so diversified, the resolutions of which
were so bold and so persevering, and in which were seen, perbaps for the
first time, all the enlightened men of a nation assembled with the will and
the power to realize the wishes of philosophy, we must consider the state
in which it had found France, and that in which it left her.
In 1789 the French nation knew and felt all the evils it suffered under,
but it did not conceive the possibility of curing them. All at once, on the
unforeseen demand of the parliaments, the States-general were convoked,
the Constituent Assembly was formed and came into the presence of the
throne, proud of its ancient power, and disposed at most to put up with a
few complaints. Thoroughly impressed with its rights, it then declared
itself to be the nation, and dared to declare this to the astonished govern-
ment. Threatened by the aristocracy, by the court, and by an army, not
yet foreseeing the popular commotions, it declared itself inviolable, and
forbade power to touch it. Convinced of its rights, it addressed itself to
enemies who were not convinced of theirs, and, by the mere expression
of its determination, gained the ascendancy over a power of several centu-
ries, and an army of thirty thousand men. Such was die Revolution. Such
was its first and noblest act. It was just — it was heroic ; for never did
nation act with greater propriety, or amid greater dangers.
Power being vanquished, it became necessary to reconstitute it in a just
and suitable manner. But, at the sight of that social ladder, on the summit
of which there is a superabundance of everything — power, honours, wealth ;
whilst at the bottom everything is wanting, even to the bread that is indis-
pensable for life — the Constituent Assembly experienced a violent reaction
in its ideas, and was for reducing all to one level. It decided, therefore,
that the mass of the citizens, placed on a complete equality, should express
their will, and that the King should be changed only with its execution.
Its error here consists, not in having reduced royalty to a mere magis-
tracy, for the King had still sufficient power to uphold the laws, and more
than magistrates possess in republics, but in having imagined that a King,
with the recollection of what he had been, could resign himself to he what
he was ; and that a nation, scarcely awakened, which had recovered part
of the popular power, would not determine to conquer it entirely.
History proves, in fact, that it is necessary to divide magistracies to
infinity, or that, if a tingle chief be appointed, he must be so well endowed
as to have no temptation to usurp.
"When nations, engrossed by their private interests, find it necessary to
transfer the cares of government to a chief, they do right to give them-
selves one ; but, in this case, that chief must, like the kings of England,
FREiNCH REVOLUTION. 195
possess in reality the greatest part of the sovereignty, and the power of
convoking and dissolving the national assemblies, without being compelled
to obey their mandates, sanctioning them only when he thinks lit, and being
prevented only from doing what is mischievous. The dignity of man ca:i
still be preserved under such a government, when the law is strictly ob-
served* when every citizen feels his own value, and knows that powers so
extensive left to the prince have only been granted as a concession to human
weakness.
But it is not at the moment when a nation suddenly bethinks itself of its
rights that it can renounce all its prerogatives, submit to take a secondary
neat, and yield the supreme power to a chief, lest he should feel an inclina-
tion to usurp it. The Constituent Assembly was equally incapable with
the nation itself of consenting to such an abdication. It reduced the King,
therefore, to a mere hereditary magistrate, hoping that the nation would
have him that, and that he would himself be content with this magistracy,
still resplendent with honours, wealth, and power.
But, whether the Assembly hoped this or not, could it in such a state of
uncertainty, evade the question ? Could it abolish royalty, or could it con-
fer on it all the power that England grants to her monarchs ?
It could not, on the one hand, depose Louis XVI.; for, if it is always
necessary to introduce a spirit of justice into a government, it is not so to
change its form, when that spirit exists in it, and suddenly to convert a mo-
narchy into a republic. Moreover, possession carries with it authority, and
if the Assembly had despoiled the reigning dynasty, what would not its
enemies have said, who accused it of violating property because it attacked
feudal rights ?
On the other hand, it could not confer on the King the absolute veto, the
appointment of the judges, and other similar prerogatives, because public
opinion was adverse to such concessions ; and, as this opinion constituted
its only strength, the Assembly was obliged to defer to it.
With regard to the establishment of a single chamber, its error was, per-
haps, more real, but just as inevitable. If it was dangerous to leave nothing
but the remembrance of power to a king who had possessed it entire, while
legislating for a people desirous of wresting from him the last remnant of
it ; much more false was it in principle not to recognise social inequalities
and gradations, when they are admitted by republics themselves, and when
in all of them there is a senate either hereditary or elective. But we must
not require of men and minds more than they are capable of at the time.
How can the necessity of ranks be recognised at the moment of a revolt
against their injustice ? How is it possible to constitute an aristocracy at
the moment when war is proclaimed against aristocracy ? To constitute
royalty would have been an easier task, because, placed apart from the peo-
ple, it would have been less oppressive, and because it moreover performs
functions which seem more necessary.
But, I repeat it, if these errors had not existed in the Assembly, they ex-
isted in the nation ; and the course of events will prove that, if the Assem-
bly had left the King and the aristocracy all the powers which it did not
leave them, the Revolution would, nevertheless, have taken place, even to
its greatest excesses.
To be convinced of this, we must make a distinction between the revolu-
tions which have taken place among nations long in a state of subjection,
and those which have taken place among free people, that is to say, people
in possession of a certain political activity. At Rome, at Athens, and else-
196 HISTORY OF THE
where, we see the people and their chiefs disputing for the greater or less
share of authority. Among modern nations entirely stripped of it, the
course is different. Completely subjected, their slumber is long. The
more enlightened classes are the first to awake. These rouse themselves
and recover a portion of power. The awakening is progressive. Ambition
is progressive too, and keeps spreading to the lowest classes, till the whole
mass is in motion. Presently, satisfied with what they have obtained, the
enlighted classes wish to stop ; but they can no longer do so, and are inces-
santly pushed forward by those behind them. Those who stop, were they
in the very last rank but one, if they pretend to oppose the last, are to it an
aristocracy, and are stigmatized with the name. The mere tradesman is
called aristocrat by the artisan, and hated as such.
The Constituent Assembly represented that class which first awakes and
cries out against power while yet all-powerful. Sagacious enough to per-
ceive what was due to those who had everything and to those who had no-
thing, it wished to leave the former part of what they possessed, because
they had always possessed it, and to procure for the latter, above all things,
knowledge, and the rights which it confers. But regret sways the one. am-
bition the other. Regret wishes to recover all, ambition to conquer all, and
a war of extermination commences. The constituents then, are those first
good men, who, shaking ofT slavery, attempt to establish a jus; nyatmm, try it
without apprehension, nay, accomplish this immense task, but fail in endea-
vouring to persuade the one to yield something, the other not to grasp at
everything.
The Constituent Assembly, in its equitable allotments, had shown for-
bearance towards the former possessors of power. Louis XVI., with the
title of King of the French, an income of thirty millions, the command of
the armies, and the right of suspending the national decrees, still possessed
extensive prerogatives. The recollection of absolute power alone can
excuse him for not having been content with so brilliant a remnant of abso-
lute power.
The clergy, stripped of the immense possessions which had formerly
been given to it, on condition of relieving the poor whom it did not relieve,
and of performing that divine worship which it left to be performed by poor
curates, was no longer a political order. But its ecclesiastical dignities
were preserved, its dogmas respected, its scandalous wealth changed into a
sufficient, nay, we may say, an abundant revenue, for it still possessed con-
siderable episcopal luxury. The nobility was no longer an order: it no
longer possessed the exclusive right of killing game and the like; it was no
longer exempt from taxes ; but could it make these things a subject oi
sonable regret? Its immense possessions were left to it. Instead of the
favour of the court, it had a certafnty of the distinctions conferred on merit.
It had the privilege of being elected by the people, and of representing it
in the state, if it could but show the slightest good-will and resignation.
The robe and the sword were insured to its talents : why then was it not
all at once inspired with a generous emulation ? What an avowal of inca-
pacity did it not make in regretting the favours of former times !
The old pensioners had been spared ; the ecclesiastics had received in-
demnities; every one had been treated with indulgence : was then the lot
which the Constituent Assembly had assigned to all so intolerable?
The constitution being completed, the King had no hope left of n
ing, by means of the Legislation, the prerogatives which he regretted. He
had but one course to pursue, to be resigned and to uphold the constitution,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 197
unless he reckoned upon the foreign powers. But he hoped very little from
their zeal, ami distrusted the emigrants. He decided, therefore, in favour
of the former line of conduct, anil what proves his sincerity is, that he
meant frankly to point out to the Assembly the defects which he found in the
constitution. But he was dissuaded from doing so, and he resolved to trust
to time for those restitutions of power which he deemed his due. The
Queen was not less resigned. " Courage !" said she to Bertrand, the minis-
ter, who waited upon her, " all is not yet lost. The King is determined
to adhere to the constitution : that course is certainly the best." And
there is every reason to believe that, if she had had other thoughts to utter,
she would not have hesitated to express them before Bertrand de Molle-
ville.*
The old Assembly had broken up. Its members had returned to the
* This minister has given such an account of the dispositions of the King and Queen, at
the commenmhent of the first legislature, as leaves but little doubt of their sincerity. He
relates the first interview with these august personages as follows :
" After replying to some general observations which I had made on the difficulty of cir-
cumstances and on the numberless faults which I was liable to commit in a department with
which I was unacquainted, the King said to me, • Well, have you still any objection?' — 'No,
sire ; the wish to please and to obey your majesty is the only sentiment that I feel ; but, to
know if I can flatter myself with the prospect of serving you usefully, it would be necessary
that you should let me know what is your plan relative to the constitution, and what the lino
of conduct which you wish your ministers to pursue.' — ' Very true,' replied the King, ' I
consider that constitution as by no means a masterpiece ; in my opinion it has very great
defects, and if I had been at liberty to address some observations to the Assembly, very
beneficial reforms might have resulted from them ; but now it is too late, and I have accepted
it such as it is. I have sworn to cause it to be executed, and I ought and will be strictly faith-
ful to my oath ; and the more so, as I believe the most rigorous execution of the constitution
to be the surest means of making the nation acquainted with it, and rendering it sensible of
the changes that it would be well to introduce in it. I have not, neither can I have, any other
plan than this ; I will assuredly not deviate from it, and it is my wish that the ministers
should conform to it.' — ' This plan, sire, appears to me infinitely prudent: I feel myself capa-
ble of following it, and I engage to do so. I have not sufficiently studied the new constitu-
tion either as a whole, or in its details, to have a decided opinion upon it, and I will abstain
from adopting one, be it what it may, before its execution has enabled the nation to appre-
ciate it by its effects. But, may I be permitted to ask your majesty if the Queen's opinion
on this mint agrees with the King's!' — ' Yes, precisely ; she will tell you so herself.'
" I went down stairs to the Queen, who, after declaring with extreme kindness that she
felt under as much obligation to me as the King, for having accepted the ministry under
such critical circumstances, added these words : ' The King has acquainted you with his
intentions relative to the constitution ; do you think that the only plan he has to follow is
to adhere to his oath]' — 'Most certainly, madam.' — ' Well, be assured that nothing shall
induce us to change. Come, M. Bertrand, courage ! I hope that with patience, firmness,
and perseverance, all is not yet lost.' " — Bertrand de Mol/evil/e, tome vi., p. 22.
The testimony of M. Bertrand is corroborated by that of Madame Campan, which, though
sometimes suspicious, has on this occasion very much the air of truth.
" The constitution had been, as I have said, presented to the King on the 3d of September ;
I recur to this presentation because it furnished a very important subject of deliberation. All
the ministers, except M. de Motilmorin, insisted on the necessity of accepting the constitu-
tional act in its entire state. Such, too, was the opinion of the Prince de Kaunitz. Malouet
that the King would frankly point out the vices and dangers which he discovered in
the constitution. But Duport and IJarnave, alarmed at the spirit which prevailed in the
association of the Jacobins, ami even in the Assembly, where Robespierre had already de-
nounced them as traitors to the country, and apprehensive of great calamities, agree 1 in
opinion with the majority of the ministers and M. de Kaunitz. Those who sincereh
to uphold the constitution, advised that it should not be accepted purely and simply : of this
Bjsjsnbsjr were, as I have mentioned, Messrs. Montmorin and Malouct. The King appeared
to like their advice; and this is one of the strongest proofs of the sincerity of the unfortu
nate monarch." — Mcmoires de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 161.
El
198 HISTORY OF THE
bosom of their families, or were scattered throughout Paris. Some of the
most conspicuous, such as Lameth, Duport, Barnave, communicated with
the court, and gave it their advice. Hut tin- King, resolved as he was to
observe the constitution, could not make up his mind to follow the advice
that he received ; for not only was it recommended to him not to violate
that constitution, but by all his acts to induce the heliei' that he was sin-
cerely attached to it. These members of the late Assembly, joined by
Lafayette since the revision, were the chiefs of that lirst revolutionary
generation, which had laid down the first rules of liberty, and desired that
they should be adhered to. They were supported by the national jruard,
whom long service under Lafayette had strongly attached to him and to his
principles. The constituents then fell into an error — that of disdaining the
new Assembly, and frequently irritating it by their contempt. A sort of
aristocratic vanity had already seized these first legislators ; and it seemed
as though all legislative science had disappeared alonir with them.
'The new Assembly was composed of different classes of men. It in-
cluded enlightened partisans of the first Revolution : Kamond, Girardin,
Vaublanc, Dumas, and others, who called themselves constitutionalists, and
occupied the right side, where not one of the late privileged class was to
be found. Thus, by the natural and progressive march of the Revolution,
the left side of the first Assembly was destined to become the right of the
second. Next to the constitutionalists came many distinguished men, whose
heads were heated, and whose expectations were exaggerated by" the Re-
volution. Witnesses of the labours of the Constituent Assembly, and im-
patient as lookers-on, they were of opinion that enough had not yet been
done. They durst not avow themselves republicans, because, on all si
people mutually exhorted one another to be faithful to the constitution ; but
the experiment of a republic which had been made during the journey of
Louis XVI.; and the suspicious intentions of the court, were incessantly
leading their minds back to that idea; and they could not but attach them-
selves to it more and more from their continual hostilities with die govern-
ment.
Among this new generation of talents, the most remarkable were the
deputies of La Gironde, from whom the whole party, though composed of
men from all the departments, derived the name of Girondins. Condoreet."
* '• Marie Jean Nicholas Caritat, Marquis tie Condoreet, was born in 1743. His m
of the oldest families in Dauphine. He was educated in the college <>t Navarre, at Paris,
and from early youth devoted himself to the study of the exact sciences. The Duke of
Rochefoucault was his patron ; and introduced him into the world at the age of nineteen.
"With astonishing facility Condoreet treated the most difficult problems in mathematics, and
gained such celebrity as a man of science, that, in 1777, he waa ••> the Aca-
demy of Sciences. He contributed several articles to the ' Encyclopaedia,' and was intimate
with most of the writers of that great work. 1'inler a cold exterior, Condoreet cono
the most violent pas-ions. I)"Aleinbert compared him to a volcano covered with snow. On
the intelligence of the King*! Sight, he defined the royal dignity as an anti-social insti-
tution. In 1792 he was appointed President of the Assembly, and composed the prod
tion addressed to the Preach nnd to Europe, which announce I the abolition, of royalty. On
the trial of Louis he voted for the severest sentence not capital: at the same lima he voted
for the abolition of capital peniahments, except in crimes a^iinst the state. In 1793 he was
accused of being an accomplice with Brians, and, to save his life, concealed himself in the
house of .Madame Verney, where he remained eight months, during which period, though
in constant fear of discovery, he wrote one of his beat philosophical treatise*. Having at
length learned that death was denounced against all who harboured a proscribed individual,
he left his generous hostess, and lied in disguise from Paris. He wandered about for some
time, until, driven by hunger, he entered a small inn at Ciamar, where he was arrested as a
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 199
a writer celebrated for the comprehensiveness of bis ideas, and for an ex-
treme austerity of mind and character, was its writer ; and Vergniaud,* a
pure and persuasive extempore speaker, was its orator. Thai party, in-
ereased continually by all who despaired of the court, did not want such a
republic as fell to it in 171)3. It dreamt of one with all its fascinations,
with its severe virtues and manners. Enthusiasm and vehemence were of
course its principal characteristics.
Such a party coidd not but have its extremes. There were Bazire, Merlin
de Thionville, and others; who, though its inferiors in talent, were its
superiors in boldness. They became the party of the Mountain, when,
after the overthrow of the throne, they separated from the Girondins. This
second Assembly had also, like the first, a middle mass, which, widiout
being bound to any party, voted first with the one and then witb the other.
Under the Constituent Assembly, when real liberty still prevailed, this mass
had remained independent; but, as it was not so from energy but from in-
difference, in the subsequent Assemblies, and during the reign of violence,
it became cowardly and contemptible, and received the trivial and igno-
minious name of belly {ventre).
The clubs gained at this period a very different kind of importance, i
Agitators under the Constituent, they became rulers under the Legislative, j
Assembly. The National Assembly could not contain all the ambitious ; •
they betook themselves therefore to the clubs, where they found a theatre
for their declamation and passions. Thither resorted all who longed to
speak, to take an active part, to agitate themselves, that is to say, almost
the whole nation. The people ran to this new sight : they filled the tribunes
of all the Assemblies, and there found, from tins time forward, a lucrative
employment, for they began to be paid for their applause. Bertrand, the l
minister, confesses that he paid them himself.
The oldest of the clubs, that of the Jacobins, had acquired extraordinary
importance. A church was scarcely sufficient to hold the crowd of its
members and auditors. An immense amphitheatre rose in the form of a
circus and occupied the whole great nave of the church of the Jacobins. A
desk was placed in the centre, at winch sat the president and the secretaries.
Here the votes were collected, and here reports of the deliberations were
entered in a register. An active correspondence kept up the zeal of the
societies which were scattered over the entire surface of France, and were
called affiliated societies. This club, from its seniority and persevering
violence, had constantly maintained an ascendancy over all those that had
suspicious person, and thrown into prison. On the following morning, March 28, 1794, he
was found dead on the floor of his room, having apparently swallowed poison, which he
always carried about him, and which nothing but his love for his wife and daughter pre-
vented him using, before." — Encyclopedia Americana. E.
* " Vergniaud was the most eloquent speaker of the Gironde, but he had not the vigour
requisite for the leader of a party in troubled times. Passion, in ueneral, had little influence
over his mind. He was humane, gentle, and benevolent; difficult to rouse to exertion, and
still more to be convinced of the wickedness, either of his adversaries or a large part of his
supporters. But when great occasions arose, he poured forth his generous thoughts in
streams of eloquence which never have been equalled in the French Assembly. It was not
like that of Mirabeau, broken and emphatic, but uniformly elegant, sonorous, and flowing,
swelling at times into the highest strains of impassioned oratory. G.iinlct w:is more ani-
mated than Vergniaud; but Genaonna, with inferior tal, :kint;, was m m rthelesa
looked up to as a leader of his party, from his firmness and resolution of character, liarba-
roux, a native of the south of France, brought to the strife of (action the ardent tempera-
ment of his sunny climate. He was resolute, sagacious, and daring, and early divined the
uloody design* of the Jacobins." — Alison. E.
200 HISTORY OF THE
desired to show themselves more moderate or even more vehement. After
the journey to Vareunes, the Lamethe, with all iis mjst distinguished mem-
bers, left it and joined the Feuillans. In this latter were blended all the
attempts at moderate clubs, attempts which bad never succeeded, because
they ran counter to the feeling which caused people to frequent the clubs —
the desire of agitation. It was at the I'Yuillans that the constitutional
jr partisans of the first Revolution, now met. Hence the name of Feuillant
became a ground of proscription, when that of moderate was unpopular.
Another club, that of the Cordeliers, endeavoured to rival in violence
that of the Jacobins. Camille Desmoulin . and Danton
its president. The latter, who had not been successful at the
gained the adoration of the multitude, which he powerfully excited, bv his
athletic figure, his sonorous voice, and his popular passions. The Cordeliers
however were not able, even with the aid of exaggeration, to their
rivals, to whom habit brought a concourse of auditors. Rut almost all of
them belonged to the Jacobin club, and when occasion required, they re-
paired thither in the train of Danton, to swell the majority in his favour.
Robespierre, whom we have seen, in the time of the Constituent A
bly, distinguishing himself by the severity of his princi; xcfaded
from the Legislative Assembly by the decree of non-re-election, to the ;
ing of which he had himself contributed. He had intrenched himself at
the Jacobins, where he ruled without partner, by the dogmatism of his
opinions and by a reputation for integrity which had gained him thi
of incorruptible. Panic struck, as we have seen, at the moment of the
revision, he had since taken courage, and continued the work of his popu-
larity. Robespierre had found two rivals whom he began to ha'" — Briss
and Louvet.f Brissot, mixed up with all the men of the first Ass
* "The principal leader of the Girorule was Brissot, who had been a meml>er of the mu-
nicipality of Paris during the preceding session, and now belonged to the Assembly, The
opinions of Brissot, who wished for a complete reform ; his great activity of mind, which
exerted itself by turns in the journal called the 'Patriot.' in the rostrum of the Assembly,
and at the club of the Jacobins; and his accurate and extensive acquaintance with the
situations of foreign powers, combined to give him great influence at a moment when
France was distracted with the strife of parties." — Mignet.
" Brissot de Warville was born in 1754, at a village near Chartrea. His father kept a
cook's shop, which occasioned the saying that the son had all the heat of his father's
stoves. After passing four years in an attorney's office, he turned author, and, at twenty
years of age, had already published several works, one of which occasioned his imp
ment in the Bastille in 17S4. He married a person attached to the household of Madame
d'Orleans, and afterwards went to England. He lived there on pay as a spy from the lieu-
tenant of police at Paris. At the same time he employed himself in literature, and en-
deavoured to form an academy in I. on Ion ; but, this speculation proving unsuccessful, he
returned to France, and distinguished himself greatly darfog the Revolution. At the time
of the trial of Louis XVI. he strove to brihg the subject of his condemnation Wfore the
people, and afterwards voted for hifl death, though he was anxious to obtain a re;
Being denounced, together with the rest of the (Jirondins. bv the Jacobins, he was uuill.>-
tined in 1793. Brissot was thirty-nine years of age, of middle stature, slightly formed, and
pale. He was so passionate an admirer of the Americans, t hat he adopted the appearance
of a Quaker, and was pleased to be mistaken for one." — Biagraphie Moderne. E.
-J- "Jean liaptiste Louvet de Com ray was an advocate, and distinguished actor in the
Revolution. He attached himself to the (Jirondins, and was included in an order of ..
issued in 1794 against that party, lie. however, managed t<> escape, and lay concealed in
Paris until after the fall of Robes| ierre. He subsequently published an account of his
adventures during the time of his proscription — a work written in a romantic style, and
which has been translated into many languages. Louvet dud ll I\iri< in 17U7. He is
chiefly known in literature as the author of that licentious novel, The Chevalier Faullat."
— Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 801
friend of Mirabeau and Lafayette, known to be a republican, and one of the
most distinguished members of the legislature, was fickle in character, but
remarkable for certain qualities of mind. 1. on vet, with an anient spirit, an
lent understanding, and great boldness, was one of those, who, having
outstripped the Constituent Assembly, dreamt of a republic. Hence they
naturally approximated to the Girondins. His contests with Robespierre
soon attached him still more to them. This party of the Gironde, formed
egrees, without design, by men possessing too much merit to ally
themselves to the populace, and distinction enough to be envied by it and
its Leaders, and who were united rather by their situation than by any con-
cert, was destined to be brilliant but weak, and to fall before the more
resolute factions which sprang up around it.
Such then was the state of France. The lately privileged persons had
retired beyond the Rhine. The partisans of the constitution comprehended
the right of the Assembly, the national guard, and the club of the Feuillans.
The Girondins had the majority in the Assembly, but not in the clubs,
where low violence had greater sway. Lastly, the hot-headed democrats
of this new epoch, seated on the highest benches of the Assembly, and
thence denominated the Mountain, were all-powerful in the clubs and
among the populace.
Lafayette had resigned all military rank and had been accompanied to his
country-seat by the bomage and regret of his companions in arms. The
command bad not been conferred on a new general, but six chiefs of legions
commanded by turns the whole national guard. Bailly, the faithful ally of
Lafayette during those three arduous years, likewise resigned the mayoralty.
The voices of the electors were divided between Lafayette and Petion ;
but the court, which would not at any rate have Lafayette, who was never-
theless favourably disposed towards it, preferred Petion, though a repub-
lican. It hoped more from his coldness, which it mistook for stupidity, but
which was quite the reverse, and it incurred considerable expense in order
to secure him a majority. He was accordingly appointed mayor. Petion,
with an enlightened understanding, a cold but settled conviction, and con-
siderable address, constantly served the republicans against the court, and
found himself allied to the Gironde by conformity of views, and by the
which his new dignity excited among the Jacobins.
If, however, notwithstanding these dispositions of the parties, the King
could have been relied upon, it is possible that the distrust of the Girondins
might have worn oil*, and that, the pretext for disturbances no longer exist-
ing, the agitators would thenceforward have found no pretext for urging the
populace to commotion.
The intentions of the Kin<r were formed ; but he was so weak that they
were never irrevocable. It was requisite that he should prove them before
could train belief; and till he could afford proof, he was liable to more
than one outrage. His disposition, though good, was not without a certain
tendency to ill-humour. His resolutions were in consequence easily shaken
by the first faults of the Assembly. This Assembly having been consti-
tuted, took the oath with pomp on the book of the constitution. Its first i
decree relative to the ceremonial, abolished the titles of sire and majesty, \
given to the King. It ordered moreover that, whenever he ap-
• d in the Assembly, he should sit in an arm-chair exactly similar to
that of the president.
Such were the first results of the republican spirit, and the pride of Louis
XVI. was cruelly wounded by them. To spare himself what he regarded
vol. i. — 26
202 HISTORY OF THE
as an humiliation, he resolved not to attend the Assembly, but to send his
ministers to open the legislative session. The Assembly, repenting tins
first hostility, revoked its decree on the following day, and thus gave a rare
example of recantation. The King then went and was warmly received.
Unluckily, it had been decreed that, if the King continued sitting, the mem-
bers should likewise keep their seats. They did so, and Louis XVI. con-
sidered this as a fresh insult. The applause with which he was gi
could not heal the wound. He returned home pale and with agitated looks.
No sooner was he alone with the Queen than he threw himself into a chair,
gobbing. "Ah! madam," he exclaimed, "you witnessed this humiliation!
What ! come to France to see . . . ." — The Quota strove to comfort him ;
but his heart was too deeply lacerated, and his good intentions must have
been shaken by this treatment.*
If, however, he henceforth thought only of having recourse to foreigners,
the dispositions of the powers were not such as to give him much hope.
The declaration of Pilnitz had remained inoperative, either from want of
zeal on the part of the sovereigns, or perhaps on account of the danger
which Louis XVI. would have incurred, having been ever since his return
from Varennes the prisoner of the Constituent Assembly. The acceptance
of the constitution was an additional motive for the sovereign to await the
results of experience before they proceeded to action. This was the opinion
of Leopold and of Kaunitz the minister. Accordingly, when Louis \\ I.
had notified to all the courts that he had accepted the constitution, and that
it was his intention to observe it faithfully, Austria returned a most pacific
answer. Prussia and England did the same, and protested their amicable
intentions. It is to be observed that the neighbouring powers acted with
more reserve than the remote powers, such as Sweden and Russia, because
they were more immediately compromised by a war. Gustavas, who
dreamtof some brilliant expedition against France, replied to the notification
that he did not consider the King as free. Russia deferred the explanation
of her sentiments. Holland, the Italian principalities, and Switzerland in
particular, gave satisfactory answers. The electors of Treves and Mentz,
in whose territories the emigrants resided, used evasive expressions. Spain
also, importuned by the emigrants of Coblentz, abstained from Bpeaking out;
ig that she wished for time to insure the liberty of the King. She
nevertheless declared that she had no intention of disturbing the tranquillity
of the kingdom.
Such answers, not one of which was hostile, the assured neutrality of
England, the hesitation of Frederick William, the pacific and well known
disposition of Leopold, all seemed to promise peace. It is impossible to
tell what passed in the vacillating mind of Louis \YI.: but his evident in-
. and the very Cars with which the war subsequently tilled him, must
induce a belief that he too was desirous of the maintenance of peace. Amidst
this general concert, the emigrants alone continued to be obstinately bent on
war, and to prepare for it.
They still kept thronging to Coblentz; where, with great activity, they
armed themselves, prepared magazines, contracted for accoutrements, and
formed skeletons of regiments, which however were not tilled up, for none
of them would become soldier-;. Moreover, they instituted ranks which
were sold; and, if they attempted nothing really dangerous, they neverthe-
less made great preparations, which they themselves deemed formidable,
$ Seo Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 129.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 203
ami by which they expected to strike tenor into tlte imagination of the
French people. '
The grand point was to ascertain wjicther Louis XVI. wen favourable to
them or not; and it was difficult to suppose that he could be otherwise than
well-disposed towards kinsmen and servants who were takine. up arms to
re to him his former powers. It would have required nothing less than
the utmost sincerity and continual demonstrations to produce a contrary con-
viction. The letters of the K inir to the emigrants contained invitations, nay,
ers, to return ; hut he kept up, it was said,t :i secret correspondence,
winch contradicted his public correspondence, and destroyed its etl'ect.
That secret communications took place with Coblentz cannot indeed be
denied, hut I cannot believe that Louis AVI. made use of them to contradict
the injunctions which he had publicly addressed to the emigrants. His
most evident interest was that they should return. Their presence at Co-
blentz could not lie serviceable so Ion": as they entertained the design of
fighting: and Louis XVI. dreaded civil war above all things.
Nut desiring then that the emigrants should employ their swords on the
Rhine, it was better that he should have them about him, that he might em-
ploy them as occasion required, and combine their efforts with those of the
constitutionalists for the protection of his person and his throne. Moreover,
their presence at Coblentz provoked severe laws, which he would not sanc-
tion— a refusal which compromised him with the Assembly; and we shall
see that it was the use which he now made of the veto that completely strip-
ped him of popularity, and caused him to be considered as an accomplice of '
the emigrants. It would be strange if he had not perceived the cogency of
these reasons, which was felt by all his ministers, who were unanimously
of opinion that the emigrants ought to return and to keep near the person of
the King, in order to defend him, to put an end to alarms, and to deprive
agitators of every pretext. This was the opinion of Bertrand de Molleville
" The continued nnd increasing emigration of the landholders contributed in the greatest
degree to unhinge the public mind, and proved, perhaps, in the end, the greatest cause of the
[tient miseries of the Revolution. Their number was by this time, with their families,
nearly one hundred thousand of the most wealthy and influential body in France. Coblentz
became the centre of this anti-revolutionary party. In thus deserting their country at the
critical period of its history, the French nobility betrayed equal baseness and impru-
dence."— Alison. E.
-j- It is Madame Campan, who takes it upon her to inform us that the King kept up a
secret correspondence with Coblentz.
" While the courtiers were conveying the confidential letters of the King to the princes, his
brothers, and to the foreign princes, the Assembly requested the King to write to the princes
and to exhort them to return to France. The King directed the Abl>e de Montesquieu to
draw up for him the letter which he purposed sending. This letter, admirably written, in a
touching and simple style, suitable to the character of Louis XVI., and full of very strong
arguments, on the advantage of rallying around the principles of the constitution, was put
into my hands by the King for the purpose of making a copy of it.
" At this period, M. Mor .... one of the intend. mts of Monsieur's household, obtained
from the Assembly a [mssport to go to the prince, on account of some work that was abso-
lutely necessary to lie done to his house. The Queen selected him to carry this letter; she
determined to deliver it to him herself, and acquainted him with her motive for doing so.
The choice of this courier surprised me: the Queen assured me that there could not be a
filter, that .-he even reckoned upon his indiscretion, and that it was merely essential that the
public should know of the King's letter to his brothers. The primes were no doubt f>re-
warn corrtMHmdence. Monsieur, nevertheless, showed so surprise, and
the messenger returned more afflicted than pleased by such a in irk of confidence, which had
weft-nigh cost him his life during the years of terror." — Memuires de Madame Campan,
tome ii., ix 17-.
204 -HISTORY OF THE
himself, whose principles were anything but constitutional. " It was neces-
sary," says he, "to use all possible means to increase the popularity of the
King. The most efficacious and the most useful of all, at this moment, i
to recall the emigrants. Their return, generally desired, would have revived
in France the royalist party, which the emigration had completely disor-
ganized. This party, strengthened by the unpopularity of the Assembly,
and recruited by numerous deserters from the constitutional parly, and by
all the discontented, would soon have become powerful enough to render
decisive in favour of the King the explosion, more or less speedy, which
there was every reason to expect."*
Louis XVI., conformably with this advice of his ministers, addressed ex-
hortations to the principal officers of the army and navy, to recall them to
their duty, and to keep them at their posts. His exhortations, however,
were useless, and the desertion continued without intermission. The minis-
ter at war reported that nineteen hundred officers had deserted. The As-
sembly could not moderate its wrath, and resolved to take vigorous measures.
The Constituent Assembly had gone no further than to decree that public
functionaries who were out of the kingdom should be superseded, and that
the property of emigrants should be burdened with a triple contribution, to
indemnify the state for the services of which they deprived it by their
absence. The new Assembly proposed more severe penalties.
Several plans were presented. Brissot distinguished three classes of
emigrants: the leaders of the desertion, the public functionaries who aban-
doned their duties, and lastly, those who out of fear had fled from their
country. They ought, he said, to deal severely with the former, to despise
and pity the others.
It is certain that the liberty of man does not allow him to be chained down
to the soil, but when a certainty is obtained, from a multitude of circum-
stances, that the citizens who forsake it are going to assemble abroad for the
purpose of declaring war against it, then, indeed, it is justifiable to take pre-
cautions against such dangerous projects.
The debate was long and warm. The constitutionalists condemned all
th6 measures proposed, and asserted that they ought to despise useless
attempts, as their predecessors had invariably done. The opposite party
however, carried their point; and a first*decree was passed, enjoining Mon-
sieur, the King's brother, to return within two months, in default of which
he should lose his eventual right to the regency. A second and more severe
decree was levelled against the emigrants in general : it declared that the
French assembled beyond the frontiers of the kingdom were suspected of
conspiring against France; that, if on the 1st of January next they still con-
tinued assembled, they should be declared guilty of conspiracy, prosecuted
as such, and punished with death ; and that the revenues of those who
refused to comply should be levied during their lives for the benefit of
the nation, without prejudice to the rights of wives, children and lawful
creditors.
The act of emigration not being in itself reprehensible, it is difficult to
characterise the ease in which it becomes so. All that the law couM do
was to apprize people that they would become culpable in such and such
cases ; and all who wished not to be so, had only to obey. Those who,
when apprized of the term beyond which absence from the kingdom became
a crime, should not return, would consent by this very circumstance to pass
• Tome vi., p. 42.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ~ r>
for criminal!. It wu incumbent on those who, without any hostile or
political motive, wire out of the kingdom, to bMten their return: in feet it
is a \ crv trillin"- sacrifice to the safety of a state to abridge a journey of
pleasure or profit.
Louis XVI.. in order to satisfy the Assembly and public opinion, assented
to the il cree requiring Monsieur to return upon pain of losing his right to
jency; but be affixed bis veto to the law against the emigrants. The
ministers were directed to go in a body to the Assembly, for tin; purpose of
communicating the pleasure of the King. They first read several decrees
to which the sanction was given. When they came to that relative to the
emigrants, profound silence pervaded the Assembly; and when the keeper
of the seals pronounced the official formula, Tlir King trill r.raiiiiiie it,
great discontent was expressed on all sides. He would have entered into a
developement of the forms of the veto, but a great number of voices were
raised, and told the minister that the constitution granted to the King the
right of opposing, but not that of assigning motives for opposition. The
minister was therefore obliged to withdraw, leaving behind him a deep irrita-
tion. This first resistance of the King to the Assembly was a definitive
rupture ; and though he had sanctioned the decree which deprived his brother
of the regency, yet people could not help discovering in his rejection of the
second decree an affection for the insurgents at Coblentz. They considered
that he was their kinsman, their friend, and in some degree their co-partner;
and thence concluded that it was impossible for him not to make common
cause with them against the nation.
The very next day, Louis XVI. published a proclamation to the emigrants,
and two separate letters to his two brothers. The reasons which he stated
to both were excellent, and appeared to be sincerely urged. He exhorted
them to put an end by their return to the distrust which evil disposed
persons took delight in spreading. He besought them not to compel him to
employ severe measures against them; and, as to his want of liberty, which
was made a pretext for not obeying him, he adduced as an evidence of the
contrary the veto which he had just affixed in their favour.* Be this as it
• Letter from the King to Louis Stanislas Xavier, French Prince, the King's Brother.
Pari*, November 11, 1791.
I wrote to you, my brother, on the 16th of October last, and you ought not to have had
any doubt of my real sentiments. I am surprised that my letter has not produced the effect
which I had a right to expect from it. In order to recall you to your duty, I have used all
the arguments that ought to touch you most. Your absence is a pretext for all the evil dis-
posed, a sort of excuse for all the deluded French, who imagine that they are serving me by
keeping all France in an alarm and an agitation which are the torment of my life. The
Revolution is finished; the constitution is completed; France wills it, I will maintain it;
upon its consolidation now depends the welfare of the monarchy. The constitution has con-
ferred rights upon you ; it has attached to them one condition which you ought to lose no
time in fulfilling. Believe me, brother, and repel the doubts which pains are taken to excite
in you respecting my liberty. I am going to prove to you by a most solemn act, and in a
circumstance which interests you, that I can act freely. Prove to me that you are my brother
and a Frenchman, by complying with my entreaties. Your proper place is by my side ;
your interest, your sentiments alike urge you to come and resume it; I invite you, and, if I
may, I order you, to do so. (Signed) Locis.
Answer of Monsieur to the King.
Coblentz, December 3, 1791
8ire, my brother and lord,
The Count de Vergennes has delivered to me in the name of your majesty, a letter, the
address of which, notwithstanding my baptismal names which it contains, is so unlike
s
206 HISTORY OF THE
might, those reasons produced neither at Coblentz nor at Paris the effect
which they were, or appeared to be, intended to produce. The emigrants
did not return; and in the Assembly the tone of the proclamation was
deemed too mild ; nay, the power of the executive to issue one was called in
question. That body was in fact too much irritated to be content with a
proclamation, and above all to rotifer the King to substitute a useless measure
for the vigorous resolutions which had just been adopted.
A similar trial was at the same moment imposed upon the King, and pro-
duced an equally unfortunate result. The first religious disturbances had
broken out in the West; the Constituent Assembly had sent thither two
commissioners, one of whom was Gensonne, afterwards so celebrated in
the party of the Gironde. Their report had been made to the Legislative
Assembly, and, though very moderate, this report had tilled it with indigna-
tion. It will be recollected that the Constituent Assembly, in depriving the
that I had some thoughts of returning it unopened. However, upon his positive assertion
that it was for me, I opened it, and the name of brother which I found in it having left me
no further doubt, I read it with the respect which I owe to the handwriting and the signature
of your majesty. The order which it contains to return and resume my place by your
majesty's person is not the free expression of your will ; and my honour, my duty, nay, even
my affection, alike forbid me to obey. If your majesty wishes to be acquainted with all these
motives more in detail, I beg you to refer to my letter of the 10th of September last. I also
entreat you to receive with kindness the homage of the sentiments equally tender and respectful,
with which I am, &c, &c, &c
Letter from the King to Charles Philippe, French Prince, the King's Brother.
Paris, November 11, 1791.
You must certainly be aware of the decree which the National Assembly has passed relative
to the French who have left their country. I have not thought it right to give my consent
to it, fondly believing that mild means will more effectually accomplish the end which is
proposed, and which the interest of the state demands. The various communications which
I have made to you cannot leave you in any doubt respecting my intentions or my wi
The public tranquillity and my personal peace are interested in your return. You could not
persist in a conduct which disturbs France and which grieves me, without disregarding your
most essential duties. Spare me the regret of recurring to severe measures against you ;
consult your true interest ; suffer yourself to be guided by the attachment which you owe to
your country, and yield, in short, to the wish of the French, and to that of your King. This
step, on your part, will be a proof of your sentiments for me, and will insure to you the con-
tinuance of those which I always entertained for you. (Signed) Lor i a,
Answer of the Count <f Artois to the Kin*.
Coblentz, December 3, 1791.
Sire, my brother and lord,
Count De Vergennes delivered to me yesterday a letter, which, he assured me, had been
addressed to me by your majesty. The superscription which gives me a title that I cannot
admit, led me to suppose that this letter was not destined for me ; however, having
the seal of your majesty, I opened it, and paid respect to the handwriting and the signature
of my King; but the total omission of the name of brother, and, above all. the decisions'
referred to in this letter, have furnished me with a fresh proof of the moral and physical cap-
tivity in which our enemies dare to hold your majesty. After this declaration, your majesty
will think it natural that, faithful to my duty, and the laws of honour, I should not obey
orders evidently wrung from you by violence.
Besides, the letter which I had the honour to write to your majesty, conjointly with Mon-
sieur, on the 10th of September last, contains the sentiments, the principles, and the resolu-
tions, from which I shall never swerve; I refer to it, therefore, absolutely ; it shall be
the basis of my conduct, and I here renew my oath to that effect. I entreei your majesty
to receive the homage of the sentiments equally tender and respectful, with which I
am, &c, &c., dec.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 207
nonjuring priests of their functions, had nevertheless left them a pension,
and liberty to perform religious service apart. They had ever since en-
deavoured to excite the people against their colleagues who had taken the
oath, and inveighed against them as impious wretches, whose minis! I
null and dangerous. They drew the peasants alter them to great distances
lor the purpose of Saying mass to them. The latter were irritated to sec
their churches occupied by a worship which they were taught to consider
as bad, and to be obliged to go so far in quest of that which they looked
upon as good. Civil war was imminent.* Fresh information communi-
* The Report of Messrs. Gallois and Gensonne is indisputably the best historical authority
concerning the commencement of the disturbances in La Vendee. The origin of those dis-
turbances is the most interesting part of it, because it makes us acquainted with their causes.
I have thought it necessary, therefore, to subjoin this Report. It seems to me to throw light
on one of the most curious portions of that melancholy history.
Report of Mcstrs. Gallois and Gensonne, Civil Commissioners sent into the Departments
of La Vendee and Deux-Secres, by virtue of Decrees of the Constituent Assembly,
made to the Legislative Assembly, October 9, 1791.
Gentlemen, the National Assembly decreed, on the 1 6th of July last, on the report of its
committee of research, that civil commissioners should be sent to the department of La
Vendee, to collect all the information they could obtain respecting the causes of the recent
disturbances in that country, and to concur with the administrative bodies in the restoration
of the public tranquillity.
On the 23d of July we were charged with this mission, and we set out two days after-
wards for Fontenay-le-Comte, the chief town of that department.
After conferring for some days with the administrators of the directory upon the state of
things and the disposition of people's minds ; after concerting with the three administrative
bodies some preliminary measures for the maintenance of public order; we determined to
visit the different districts composing this department, in order to examine how much was
true or false, real or exaggerated, in the complaints which had already reached us — to ascer-
tain, in short, with all possible accuracy, the state of this department.
Wc have travelled over almost every part of it, sometimes for the purpose of obtaining
information that wc needed, at others, to maintain peace, to obviate public disturbances, or
to prevent the* violence with which some of the citizens believed themselves to be threatened.
We have examined in several district directories all the municipalities of which each of
them is composed; we have listened with the greatest attention to all the citizens who had
either facts to communicate or suggestions to propose to us ; we have carefully collected and
compared together all the particulars that have come to our knowledge ; but, as these details
are more numerous than diversified, as the facts, complaints, and observations have been
everywhere alike, we shall present to you in one general point of view, and in an abridged
but accurate manner, the result of this multitude of particular facts.
We deem it unnecessary to submit to you the information which we obtained concerning
anterior disturbances; they have not appeared to us to have any very direct influence on the
present state of this department ; besides, the law of amnesty having put a stop to the dif-
ferent prosecutions to which those disturbances gave occasion, we could present to you only
vague conjectures and uncertain results concerning those matters.
The epoch of the taking of the ecclesiastical oath was the first epoch of the disturbances
in the department of La Vendee : till then the people there had enjoyed the greatest tran-
quillity. Remote from the common centre of all action and all resistance, disposed by their
natural character to the love of peace, to the sentiment of order, to respect for the law, they
reaped the benefits of the Revolution without experiencing its storms.
In the country, the difficulty of the communications, the simplicity of a purely agricul-
tural life, the lessons of childhood and of the religious emblems destined incessantly to
engage our attention, had opened the soul to a multitude of superstitious impressions, which,
in the present state of things, no kind of instruction can cither destroy or moderate.
Their religion, that is to say, religion such as they conceive it, is become to them the
strongest, and indeed we may say, the only moral habit of their lives; the most essential
object which it holds forth to them is the worship of images ; and the minister of this wor-
ship, he whom the country -people consider as the dispenser of the Divine favour, who can,
by the fervour of his prayers, mitigate the inclemency of the seasons, and has at his
208 HISTORY OF THE
cated to the Assembly proved that the danger had become still greater. It
then determined to adopt measures against these new enemies of the con-
peculiar disposal the happiness of a future life, soon secures to himself the softest as well as
the strongest affections of their souls.
The constancy of the people of this department in the kind of their religious acts, and
the unlimited confidence possessed by the priests to whom they are accustomed, are one
of the principal elements of the disturbances which have agitated and are still likely to
agitate them.
It is easy to conceive with what assiduity either misguided or factious priests have con-
trived to avail themselves of these dispositions of the people towards them. Nothing has
been neglected to kindle their 7.eal, to alarm their consciences, to strengthen weak characters,
to encourage decided characters : in some have been awakened uneasiness and remorse, in
others hopes of happiness and salvation : and upon almost all the influence of seduction and
fear has been tried with success.
Many of these ecclesiastics are upright and sincere ; they appear to be deeply impressed
both with the ideas which they disseminate and with the sentiments which they inspire :
others are accused of cloaking with zeal for religion interests dearer to their hearts ; these
latter have a political activity, which increases or relaxes according to circumstances.
A powerful coalition has been formed between the late Bishop of Lucon, and part of the
former clergy of his diocese: they have concerted a plan of opposition to the execution of
the decrees which were to be carried into effect in all the parishes ; pastoral charges and in-
flammatory papers sent from Paris have been addressed to all the cures, to fortify them in
their resolution, or to engage them in a confederation which is presumed to be general. A
circular letter written by M. Beauregard, grand-vicar of M. de Merci, late Bishop of Lucon,
deposited in the office of the tribunal of Fontenay, and which that ecclesiastic avowed at
the time of his examination, will fix your opinion, gentlemen, in an accurate manneT, both
respecting the secret of that coalition, and the skilfully combined proceedings of those who
have formed it.
It is as follows :
Letter, dated Lucon, May 31, 1791, under envelope, addressed to the Cure of La Reorthe.
A decree of the National Assembly, sir, dated 7th May, grants to the ecclesiastics whom
it has pretended to remove for refusing to take the oath, the use of the parish churches for
saying mass there only. The same decree authorizes the Roman Catholics as well as all
the nonconformists, to meet for the exercise of religious worship in any place which they
shall have chosen for that pur|>ose, on condition that in their public instructions nothing
shall be said against the civil constitution of the clergy.
The liberty granted to the legitimate pastors by the first article of this decree ought to be
considered as a snare 60 much the more dangerous, because true believers would not find in
the churches of which the intruders have gained possession any other instructions but those
of their false pastors ; because they could not receive the sacraments there but from their
hands; and thus they would have with these schismatic pastors a communication which the
laws of the church interdict. To obviate so great an evil, gentlemen, the cares will feel
the necessity of securing as soon as possible a place where they can, by virtue of the second
article of this decree, exercise their functions and assemble their faithful parishioners, as
soon as their pretended successors have taken possession of their churches. Without this
precaution, the Catholics, fearful of being deprived of the mass and the divine otlices, and
called by the voice of false pastors, might soon be induced to communicate with them, and
be exposed to the risk of an almost inevitable seduction.
In the parishes where there are few wealthy proprietors, it will no doubt be difficult to
find a suitable building and to procure sacred vessels and ornaments: then a mere bam, a
moveable altar, a surplice of muslin or any other common stuff, and vessels of tin. will
suffice, in this case of necessity, for the celebration of the sacred mysteries and of divine
service.
This simplicity, this poverty, by reminding us of the first ages of the Church and of the
cradle of our holy religion, may be a powerful means of exciting the zeal of the ministers
and the fervour of the faithful. The first Christians had no other temples but their houses;
there the pastors and their Mock met to celebrate the sacred mysteries, to hear the word of
God, and to sing the praises of the Lord. In the persecutions with which the Church was
afflicted, obliged to forsake their churches, they retired into caverns and even into tombs ;
and for the. true believers these times of trial were periods of the greatest fervour. There
are very few parishes where messieurs the cure's could not procure a building and ornaments
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 209
stitution, .similar to those which it had taken against the armed enemies
beyond the Rhine, and to put the disposition of the King to a new I
such as I have just mentioned, and till they can provide themselves with needful things, such
of their neighbours as shall not be displaced will be able to assist them with what they can
spare from their churches. We shall have it in our power immediately to supply with
Moved stones 'luxe who want them, and at this moment we can cause the cups, or the
vessels employed as substitutes for them, to be consecrated.
M. the Bishop of Lucon, in the particular instructions .which he has transmitted to us, by
way of supplement to those of M. the Bishop of Langres, and which will be circulated in
like manner in the different dioceses, proposes to messieurs the cures;
1. To keep a double register, in which shall be entered the acts of baptism, marriage, and
burial of the Catholics of the parish: one of these registers shall remain in their hands;
the other shall be by them deposited every year in the hands of a confidential person.
2. Besides this register, messieurs the cures will keep another, likewise double, in which
shall be entered the acts of dispensation concerning marriages, which they shall have granted
by virtue of the powers which shall be given them by Article 18th of the Instructions.
These acts shall be signed by two trusty and faithful witnesses, and, to give them greater
authenticity, the registers destined to contain them shall be approved, numbered, and signed
by M. the Bishop, or in his absence by one of his vicars-general. A duplicate of this register
shall be delivered, as above mentioned, to a confidential person.
3. Messieurs the cures will wait, if possible, before they retire from their church and their
ministry, till {heir pretended successor has notified to them the act of his appointment and
institution, and till they protest against all that may be done in consequence.
4. They shall draw up privately a report (proces verbal) of the intrusion of the pre-
tended cure and of the invasion made by him upon the parish church and the living ; in this
report, the model of which I annex, they will formally protest against all the acts of jurisdic-
tion which he may choose to exercise as cure of the parish : and to give to this act all pos-
sible authenticity, it shall be signed by the cure, his vicar, if he has one, and a neighbouring
priest, and even by two or three pious and discreet layman, taking nevertheless the utmost
precaution not to betray the secret.
5. Such of messieurs the cures whose parishes shall be declared suppressed without the
intervention of the legitimate bishop, shall adopt the same means ; they shall consider them-
selves as being still the only legitimate pastors of their parishes, and, if it be absolutely im-
possible for them to remain there, they shall endeavour to procure a lodging sufficiently near
to be able to supply the spiritual wants of their parishioners, and they shall take great care
to forewarn and to instruct them in their duties on that head.
6. If the civil power should oppose the faithful Catholics having one general cemetery,
or if the relatives of deceased persons manifest too strong a repugnance to their being inter-
red in a separate place, though specially consecrated, as it is said in Article 19 of the Instruc-
tions, after the legitimate pastor or one of his representatives shall have said at the house
the prayers prescribed by the ritual, and shall have drawn up the certificate of death, which
shall be signed by the relatives, the body of the deceased may be carried to the door of the
church, and the relations shall be at liberty to accompany it; but they shall be warned to
retire at the moment when the intruding cure and vicars come to have the body lifted up,
that they may not participate in the ceremonies and prayers of these schismatic priests.
7. In the acts, when the displaced cures are denied their title of cure, they shall sign those
acts with their christian and family name, without losing any quality.
I beg you, sir, and such of your colleagues to whom you may think it right to communi-
cate my letter, to have the goodness to inform us of the moment of your removal, if it does
take place, of the installation of your pretended successor, and of its most remarkable circum-
stances, of the dispositions of your parishioners on this head, of the means which you
think it right to adopt for the service of your parish, and of your residence, if you are abso-
lutely obliged to leave it. You cannot doubt that all these particulars will deeply interest us ;
your griefs are ours, and our mo6t ardent wish is to be able, by sharing them, to mitigate
their bitterness.
I have the honour to be, with a respectful and inviolable attachment, your most humble
and most obedient servant.
These manoeuvres were powerfully seconded by missionaries established in the village of
SL Laurent, district of Montaigu ; nay, it is to the activity of their zeal, to their underhand
dealings, to their indefatigable and secret exhortations that, we are of opinion, the disposition
vol. i. — 27 s 2
210 HISTORY OF THE
The Constituent Assembly had required all priests to take the civic oath.
Those who refused to comply, though they lost the character of ministers
of a very great part of the population in almost the whole of the department of La Vend, w
and in the district of Chatillon, department of the Dcux-Sevres, is principally to be attri-
buted. It is of essential importance to fix the attention of the National Assembly on the
conduct of these missionaries and the spirit of their institution.
This establishment was founded, about sixty years ago, for a society of secular priests,
living by alms, and destined as missionaries to the duty of preaching. These missionaries,
who have won the confidence of the people by artfully distributing rosaries, medals, and
indulgences, and by setting up Calvaries of all forms upon the roads of all this part of
France ; these missionaries have since become numerous enough to form new establishments
in other parts of the kingdom. They are to be found in the late provinces of l\>iu>u. Anjou,
Bretagne, and Aunis, labouring with the same activity for the success, and in some measure
for the eternal duration, of this sort of religious practices, which have become, through tin ir
assiduous endeavours, the sole religion of the people. The village of Sl Laurent is tin ir
head-quarters ; they have recently built there a spacious and handsome monastic house, and
acquired, it is said, other territorial property.
This congregation is connected by the nature and spirit of its institution with an esta-
blishment of gray nuns, founded in the same place, and known by the name of Jilles d ta
sagesse (nuns of wisdom). Devoted in this department and in several others to attendance
on the poor, particularly in the hospitals, they are a very active medium of general corres-
pondence for these missionaries throughout the kingdom. The house of St Laurent has
become their place of refuge, when the intolerant fervour of their zeal or other circum-
stances have obliged the managers of the hospitals which they attend to dis[»ctise with their
services.
To determine your opinion respecting the conduct of these ardent missionaries and the
religious morality which they profess, it will be sufficient, gentlemen, to lay In-fore you a
brief summary of the maxims contained in various manuscripts found upon thein by tho
national guard of Angers and Cholet.
These manuscripts, drawn up in the form of instructions for the country-people, lay it
down as a rule that they must not apply to the constitutional priests, stigmatized as intruders,
for the administration of the sacraments; that all those who partake therein, even by their
mere presence, commit a deadly sin, for which nothing but ignorance or defect of understand-
ing can be an excuse ; that those who shall have the audacity to get tarried by intruders
will not be really married, and that they will draw down the divine malediction u|>on them-
selves and their children ; that things will be so arranged that the validity of the marri
performed by the late cures will not be disputed ; but that, meanwhile, they must make up
their minds to the worst ; that if the children do not pass for legitimate, they will neverthe-
less be so ; that, on the contrary, the children of those who shall have been married by the
intruders will be really bastards, because God will not have ratified the union, and bee
it is better that a marriage should be invalid in the sight of men than in the sight of (
that they ought not to apply to the new cures in cases of burial ; and that, if the former
curi cannot officiate without risking his life and liberty, the relatives or friends of the de-
ceased ought privately to perform the duty of interment.
On this subject it is observed that the late curi will take care to keep an accurate
for the registration of these different acts ; that, in fact, it is impossible for the civil tribunal
to pay any attention to this point, but that it is a misfortune to which people must submit ;
that the civil registration is a great advantage, which must nevertheless be dispensed with,
because it is better to be deprived of it than to turn apostate by applying to an intruder.
Lastly, all true believers are exhorted to have no communication with an intruder, «nd to
take no part in his intrusion ; it is declared that the municipal officers who shall install him
will be apostates {ike himself, and that the very sextons, singers, and bell-ringers, ought that
very moment to resign their places.
Such, gentlemen, is the absurd and pernicious doctrine which is contained in those manu-
scripts, and of which the public voice accuses the missionaries of St- Laurent of having been
the most zealous propagators.
They were denounced at the time to the committee of research of the National Assembly,
and the silence observed in regard to them, has served only to increase the activity of their
efforts and to extend their baneful influence.
We have deemed it indispensably necessary to lay before you an abridged analysis of the
principles contained in these writings, as displayed in an arrete of the department of Maine
FRENCH REVOLUTION1. 271
of public worship paid by the state, retained their pensions as mere i
8iastics and the liberty of exercising their ministry in private. Nothing
and Loire, of the 5th Juno, 1791, because it is sufficient to compare them with the circular
letter of the grand-vicar of the late Bishop of Lucon to be convinced that they belong to a
general system of opjnisition to the decrees on the civil organization of the clergy ; and the pre-
sent state of the majority of the parishes of this department exhibits only the development
of this system and the principles of this doctrine, set almost everywhere in action.
The too tardy removal of the cures has greatly contributed to the success of this coalition :
this delay has been occasioned, in the first place, by the refusal of M. Servant, who after
having been appointed to the bishopric of the department, and accepted that office, declared,
on the 10th of April, that he withdrew his acceptance. M. Rodricrue, the present bishop of
the department, whose moderation and firmness arc almost his sole support in a chair sur-
rounded by storms and embarrassments — M. Rodrigue could not be nominated till die
first days in the month of May. At that time the acts of resistance had been calculated anil
determined upon agreeably to a uniform plan ; the opposition was commenced and in full
activity, the grand-vicars and the cures had agreed and bound themselves closely together
by the same bond; the jealousies, the rivalships, the quarrels, of the old ecclesiastical
hierarchy had had time to subside, and all interests had been blended into one general
interest.
The removal could only be in part effected : the very great majority of the old public
ecclesiastical functionaries still remains in the parishes invested with its former functions ;
the last appointments have been almost wholly unsuccessful ; and the persons lately elected,
deterred by the prospect of the numberless contradictions and disagreements prepared for
them by their nomination, reply to it by refusals alone.
This division of sworn and nonjuring priests has formed an absolute division between the
people of their parishes : families too are divided : wives have been seen, and are daily
seen, parting from their husbands, children leaving their parents: the state of citizens is in
most cases certified only upon loose pieces of paper, and the individual who receives them,
not being clothed with any public character, cannot give any legal authenticity to this kind
of proof.
The municipalities have disorganized themselves, and the greater number of them that
they might not concur in the removal of nonjuring cure's.
A great portioti of the citizens has renounced the service in the national guard, and that
which remains could not be employed without danger in any operations having for their
principle or object acts concerning religion, because the people would then view the national
guards not as the unimpassioned instruments of the law, but as the agents of a party hostile
to its own.
In several parts of the department, an administrator, a judge, a member of the electoral
body, are objects of aversion to the people, because they concur in the execution of the law
relative to the ecclesiastical functionaries.
This disposition of mind is the more deplorable, as the means of public instruction are
daily becoming more difficult. The general laws of the state are confounded by the [>eoplc
with the particular regulations for the civil organization of the clergy, and this renders the
reading and the publication of them useless.
The malcontents, the men who dislike the new system, and those who in the new system
dislike the laws relative to the clergy, studiously keep up this aversion of the people,
strengthen by all the means in their power the influence of the nonjuring priests, and weaken
the influence of the others; the pauper obtains no relief, the artisan cannot hope to obtain
any employment for his talents and industry, unless he promises not to attend mass said by
a priest who has taken the oath ; and it is by this concurrence of confidence in the former
priests, on the one hand, and of threats and seductive arts on the other, that at this moment
the churches where priests who have taken the oath officiate are deserted, and that people
throng to those where, for want of candidates, the removals have not yet been carried into
effect.
Nothing is more common than to see in parishes of five or six hundred persons ten or
twelve only attending mass said by the. sworn priest ; the proportion is the same in all the
places of the department On Sundays and holidays may be seen whole villages and ham-
lets whose inhabitants leave their homes to go to the distance of a league, and sometimes ten
leagues, to hear mass said by a nonjuring priest. These habitual desertions have appeared
to us the most powerful cause of the ferment, sometimes secret, at others open, which exist
in almost all the parishes served by priests who have taken the oath : it is easy to conceive
212 HISTORY OF THE
could be milder or more moderate than such a restriction. The Legislative
Assembly required the oath to be taken anew, and deprived those who
that a multitude of persons who consider themselves obliged by their conscience to go to a
distance to obtain the spiritual succours which they need, must see with aversion, when they
return home exhausted with fatigue, the five or six individuals who find at hand the priest
of their choice ; they view with envy and treat with harshness, nay frequently even with
violence, the men who seem to them to possess an exclusive privilege in matters of religion.
The comparison which they make between the facility which they formerly had to find by
their side priests who enjoyed their confidence, and the trouble, fatigue, and loss of time
occasioned by these repeated journeys, greatly diminishes their attachment to the constitution,
to which they attribute all the discomforts of their new situation.
It is to this general cause, more active perhaps at this moment than the secret provocation
of the nonjuring priests, that in our opinion ought to be attributed more especially the state
of internal discord in which we have found the greater number of the parishes of the depart-
ment served by priests who have taken the oath.
Several of them have presented to us, as well as to the administrative bodies, petitions
prayingi that they may be authorized to hire particular edifices for the use of their religious
worship: but as these petitions, which we knew to be instigated with the greatest activity by
persons who did not sign them, appeared to us to belong to a more general and more secret
system, wc have not deemed it right to take any measure tending to a religious separation,
which we conceived at the time, considering the state of this department, to involve all the
characters of a civil breach between the citizens. We have thought and publicly said that it
was for you, gentlemen, to determine in a precise manner how, and by what concurrence of
moral influences, laws, and means of execution, the exercise of the liberty of religious opinions
ought on this point, and in the present circumstances, to ally itself to the maintenance of the
public tranquillity.
It is certainly matter of surprise that the nonjuring priests who reside in their old parishes
do not avail themselves of the liberty allowed by the law to say mass in the church where
the new cure officiates, and are not eager to make use of that faculty, in order to spare their
old parishioners, and those who have remained attached to them the loss of time, and the
inconveniences of these numerous and compulsory journeys. To explain this conduct, appa-
rently so extraordinary, it is of importance to recollect that one of the things which had been
most strongly recommended to the nonjuring priests, by the able men who have directed this
grand religious enterprise, is to abstain from all communication with the priests whom they
call intruders and usurpers, lest the people, who are struck only by sensible signs, should at
length become accustomed to see no difference between the priests who should perform in the
same church the exercises of the same worship.
Unfortunately, this religious division has produced a political breach between the citizens,
and this breach is further widened by the appellation given to each of the two parties : the
small number of persons who go to the church of the priests who have taken the oath call
themselves and are called pa/riots ,• those who attend the church of the nonjuring priest are
called and call themselves aristocrats. Thus, with the poor country-people, love or hatred
of their country consists now-a-days not in obeying the laws, and in respecting the legitimate
authorities, but in going or not going to mass said by a sworn priest. On this point igno-
rance and prejudice have struck such deep root, that we have had great difficulty to make
them comprehend that the political constitution of the state was not the civil constitution of
the clergy; that the law did not tyrannize over consciences; that every one was at perfect
liberty to go to the mass that he liked best and to the priest in whom he had most confidence ;
that they were all equal in the sight of the law, and that on this point it imposed on them no
other obligation than to live in peace, and to bear mutually with the difference of each others'
religious opinions. We have done all in our power to banish this alwurd denomination from
the minds and from the language of the country-people, and we have endeavoured to do so
the more assiduously, because it was easy for us to calculate at that period all the conse-
quences of such a demarcation, in a department where these pretended aristocrats formed
more than two-thirds of the population.
Such, gentlemen, is the result of the facts that have come to our knowledge in the depart-
ment of La Vendee, and such are the reflections to which these facts have given rise.
We have taken on this subject all the measures that were in our power, both to maintain
the general tranquillity, and to prevent or suppress the violations of public order : organs of
the law, we have everywhere spoken its language. At the same time that we established
means of order and security, we took pains to explain or to elucidate, before the administra
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 213
refused of any salary whatever. As they ahused tlioir liberty by exciting
civil war, it ordered that, according to their conduct, they should be removed
tive bodies, the tribunals, or individuals, the difficulties incident either to the right under-
standing of the decrees or to their mode of execution; we exhorted the administrative bodies
and the tribunals to redouble their vigilance and zeal in the execution of the laws which pro-
tect the safety of persons and property, to use, in short, with firmness, the authority which
tin- law has conferred on them ; we distributed part of the public force which was at our
disposal in places where the danger was described to us as being more serious or more immi-
nent : we repaired to every place on the first tidings of disturbance ; we ascertained the state
of things with more calmness and reflection ; and after having either by the language of peace
and consolation, or by the firm and just expression of the law, pacified this momentary tumult
of individual passions, we were of opinion that the mere presence of the public force would
be sufficient It is to yoo, gentlemen, and to you alone, that it belongs to take truly effica-
cious measures resecting a matter which, from the relation into which it has been brought
with the constitution of the state, exercises at this moment a much greater influence upon
that constitution than the first and most simple notions of reason, apart from the experience
of facts, could lead one to imagine.
In all our operations relative to the distribution of the public force, we have been seconded
in the most active manner by a general officer well known for his patriotism and his intelli-
gence. No sooner was M. Dumouriez apprized of our arrival in the department than he
came to associate himself with us in our labours, and to concur with us in the maintenance
of the public peace : we were on the point of being totally deprived of troops of the line at a
moment when we had reason to believe that they were more necessary for us than ever ; it
was to the zeal and to the activity of M. Dumouriez that we were indebted for immediate
succour, which, owing to the delay of the organization of the gendarmerie, was in some
measure the sole guarantee of the tranquillity of the country.
We had just finished our mission in this department of La Vendee, gentlemen, when the
decree of the National Assembly of the 8th of August, which, on the application of the admi-
nistrators of the department of the Deux-Sevres, authorized us to proceed to the district of
Chatillon, reached us as well as the directory of this department.
We had been informed, on our arrival at Fontenay-le-Comte, that this district was in the
same state of religious agitation as the department of La Vendee. Some days before the
receipt of the decree for our commission, several citizens, electors and public functionaries of
that district, came to make a written complaint to the directory of the department of the
Deux-Sevres respecting disturbances which, as they alleged, existed in different parishes ;
t'irv declared that an insurrection was on the point of breaking out: the remedy which to
them appeared the most certain and the most prompt, and which they most earnestly pro-
posed, was to compel all the cures, who had not taken the oath and been superseded, and all
vicars who had not taken the oath, to quit the district within three days. The directory, after
having long hesitated to adopt a measure which appeared to it to l>e contrary to the principles
of strict justice, conceived at length that the public character of the complainants was suffi-
cient to prove both the reality of the evil and the urgent necessity of the remedy. A resolu-
tion (arrete) was in consequence passed on the 5th of September, and the directory ordered
all ecclesiastics to quit the district in three days, but at the same time invited them to repair
within the same term to Niort, the chief town of the department, assuring them that they
should there find protection and safety fur their person.-.
The resolution was already printed and about to be carried into execution, when the direc-
tory received a despatch containing the decree of commission which it had solicited : it im-
mediately passed a fresh resolution, by which it suspended the execution of the first, and left
to oar prudence the faculty of confirming, modifying, or suppressing.
Two administrators of the director} were by the same resolution appointed commissioners
to communicate to us what had passed, to repair to Chatillon, and there take in concert with
us all the measures that we should deem necessary.
On our arrival at Chatillon we caused the fifty-six municipalities of which that district is
competed to be called together ; they were successively summoned into the hall of the direc-
tory. We consulted each of them on the state of its parish: all these municipalities expressed
the same wish; those whose cures had been superseded solicited the restoration of those
priests; those whose nonjuring cure's were still in office desired to retain them. There is
another point on which all these country-people agreed : that is the liberty of religious opi-
nions, which, they said, had been granted to them, and which they were anxious to enjoy.
On the same and the following day, the neighbouring country aent numerous deputations of
214 HISTORY OF THE
from one place to another, and even sentenced to imprisonment if they
refused to obey. Lastly, it forbade them the free exercise of their private
worship, and directed the administrative bodies to transmit to it a list, with
notes, relative to the conduct of each of them.
its inhabitants to reiterate the same petition. H We solicit no other favor," said they unani-
mously, " than to have priests in whom we have confidence." Several of them attached so
high a value to this favour, that they even assured us that they would willingly pay double
their imposts to obtain it.
The very great majority of the public ecclesiastical functionaries of this district have not
taken the oath ; and, whilst their churches are scarcely sufficient to hold the concourse of
citizens, those of the priests who have taken the oath are almost deserted. In this respect,
the state of this district has appeared to us to be the same as that of the department of La
Vendee : there, as in other parts, we have found the denominations of patriot and aristocrat
completely established among the people, in the same signification, and perhaps in a more
general manner. The disposition of people's minds in favour of the nonjuring priests ap-
peared to us more decided than in the department of La Vendt-e ; the attachment felt for
them, the confidence reposed in them, have all the characters of the warmest and deepest
sentiment ; in some of these parishes, priests who have taken the oath, or citizens attached
to these priests, had been exposed to threats and insult : and although there, as elsewhere,
these acts of violence have appeared to be sometimes exaggerated, yet we ascertained — and
the mere report of the disposition of minds is sufficient to produce this conviction — that
most of the complaints were founded on undeniable rights.
At the same time that we recommended the utmost vigilance on this point to the judges
and to the administrators, we omitted nothing that could infuse into the people notions and
feelings more conformable with respect for the law and with the right of individual liberty.
We ought to inform you, gentlemen, that these very men, who had been described to us
as furious, as deaf to every sort of reason, left us with souls filled with peace and happiness,
when we had given them to understand that respect for liberty of conscience was inherent
in the principles of the new constitution ; they were deeply penitent and grieved f >r the
faults which some of them might have committed ; they promised us with emotion to follow
the advice which we gave them, to live in peace, notwithstanding the difference of their
religious opinions, and to respect the public functionary established by the law. They were
heard, as they went away, congratulating themselves on having seen us, repeating to one
another all that we had said to them, and mutually encouraging each other in their resolu-
tions of peace and good fellowship.
The same day messengers came to inform us that several of these country-people, on
their return home, had posted up bills declaring that each of them had engaged to denounce
and cause to be apprehended the first person who should injure another, and especially
priests who had taken the oath.
We ought to remark that, in this same district, which has long been agitated by the
difference of religious opinions, the arrears of taxes for 1789 and 1790, amounting to
700,000 livres, have been almost entirely paid up ; proof of which was furnished us by the
directory of the district.
After we had carefully obscAed the state of minds and of things, we were t>f opinion
that the resolution of the directory ought not to be carried into execution, and the com-
missioners of the department, as well as the administrators of tho directory of Ch&tillon,
were of the same opinion.
Setting aside all the motives of determination which we were enabled to draw both from
tilings and persons, we examined whether the measure adopted by the directory were in the
lace just in its nature, and in the next whether it were efficacious in execution.
We conceived that tho priests who have been superseded cannot be considered as in a
state of rebellion against the law, because they continuo to reside in the place of their
former functions, es|>ecially since among these priests there are some, who, it is matter of
public notoriety, lead charitable and peaceful lives, far from all public and private d
We conceive^ that, in the eye of the law, a man cannot be in a state of rebellion, unless
by putting himself in that state by precise, certain, and authenticated acts; we conceived,
lastly, that acts of provocation against the laws relative to the ohm and against all the
laws of the kingdom, ought, like all other misdemeanors, to be punished by legal forms.
inina afterwards the efficacy of this measure, we saw that, if faithful Catholics
have no confidence in the prieatl who have taken the oath, it is not the way to inspire them
with more to remove from them in this manner the priests of their choice. We raw that,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 215
This measure, as well as that which had just been taken against the
emigrant*) originated in the anxiety which seizes government! that are
threatened to surround themselves with excessive precautions. It is not the
ascertained fact which they punish, but the presumed attack against which
they proceed, and their measures become as arbitrary and cruel as they are
suspicious.
The bishops and the priests who had remained in Paris, and who had
kept up a correspondence with the King, immediately sent to him a memo-
rial against the decree. The King, who was already full of scruples, and
had always reproached himself for having sanctioned the decree of the
Constituent Assembly, needed no encouragement for this refusal. "As for
this," said he, speaking of the new plan, " they shall take my life before
they shall oblige me to sanction it." The ministers were nearly all of the
same opinion. Barnave and Lameth, whom the King occasionally con-
sulted, advised him to refuse his sanction: but to this counsel they added
other reeniimiendations, which the King could not make up his mind to
follow. These were, that, in opposing the decree, he should not leave any
doubt respecting his disposition, and that for this purpose he should re-
move from about his person all priests who refused to take the oath, and
compose his chapel of none but constitutional ecclesiastics.
But of all the counsels which they gave him, the King adopted only such
M harmonized with his weakness or his devotion. Duport-Dutertre, keeper
of the seals, and the organ of the constitutionalists with the ministry,
in the districts where the very great majority of the nonjuring priests continue to exercise
their functions, agreeably to the permission of the law, till they are superseded, it would
certainly not be, in such a system of repression, diminishing the evil to remove so small a
number of persons, when you would be obliged to leave in the same places a much greater
number whose opinions are the same.
Such, gentlemen, are some of die ideas which have guided our conduct in this circum-
stance, independently of all the reasons of locality, which alone would have been strong
enough to oblige us to follow this line : such, in fact, was the disposition of minds, that the
execution of this resolution would have infallibly been the signal for a civil war in those parts.
The directory of the department of the Deux-Sevres, apprized at first by its commis-
r-'nuiers, and afterwards by us, of all that we had done on this head, has been pleased to
present to us the expression of its thanks by a resolution of the 19th of last month.
We shall add, with respect to the measure for removing the nonjuring priests who
have been superseded, that it was constantly proposed to us almost unanimously by those
citizens of the department of La Vendee who are attached to the priests that have taken the
oath — citizens who themselves form, as you have seen, the smallest portion of the inha-
bitants : in transmitting to you this petition we merely acquit ourselves of a commission
with which we have been intrusted.
Neither can we suffer you to remain ignorant that some of the priests who have taken
the oath, that we have seen, have been of a contrary opinion. One of them, in a letter
which he addressed to us on the 12th of September, whilst assigning to us the same causes
of the disturbances, whilst expatiating on the many vexations to which he is daily exposed,
remarked that the only way of remedying all these evils (these are his own expressions)
"is to be tender towards the opinion of the people, whose prejudices must be cured by gen-
tleness and prudence ; for," he adds, " all war on account of religion, whose wounds still
bleed, must be prevented .... It is to be feared that the rigorous measures necessary,
under present circumstances, against the disturbers of the public peace, may appear rather
in the light of a persecution than of a punishment inllicted by the law What
prudence is it needful to employ ! Mildness, instruction, are the weapons of truth."
Bach, gentlemen, is the general result of the particulars which we have collected, and the
observations which we have made, in the course of the mission with which we have been
intrusted. The most pleasing reward of our labours would be to hav.* facilitated for you the
means of establishing, on solid foundations, the tranquillity of these department*, and having
responded by the activity of our zeal to the confidence with which we have been honoured.
216 HISTORY OF THE
procured its approbation of their advice : and when the council had decided,
to the great satis tart ion of Louis XVI.. that the veto should be aflixed, he
added, as his opinion, that it would be well to surround the person of the
King with priests who were not liable to suspicion. To this proposal Louis
XVI., usually so flexible, manifested invincible obstinacy, and said that the
freedom of religious worship, decreed for everybody, ought to be allowed
to him as well as to his subjects, and that he ought to have the liberty of
appointing about him such priests as he approved. The ministers did not
insist, and, without as yet communicating the circumstance to the Assembly,
the veto was decided upon.
The constitutional party, to which the King seemed to consign hi
at this moment, brought him a fresh reinforcement. This was tin- directory
of the department, which was composed of the most esteemed members of
the Constitutional Assembly. Among them were the Duke da hnourhr-
foucault, the Bishop of Autun, Baumets, Desmeuniers, Ansoaa, ate. It
presented a petition to the King, not as an administrative body, but
meeting of petitioners, and called for the affixing of the veto to the decree
against the priests.
" The National Assembly," they said, " certainly meant well ; we love
to avenge it here on its guilty detractors ; but so laudable a di pro-
pelled it towards measures of which neither the constitution, justice, nor
prudence can approve. It makes the payment of the pensions of all eccle-
siastics not in office depend on the taking of the civic oath, wherea-s the
constitution has expressly and literally classed those pensions with the
public debts. Now, can the refusal to take any oath whatever destroy the
title of an acknowledged credit ! The Constituent Assembly baa done what
it could do on behalf of the nonjuring priests ; they refused to take the pre-
scribed oath, and it has deprived thorn of their functions; in dispossessing
them, it has reduced them to a pension. The Legislative Assembly pro-
poses that the ecclesiastics who have not taken the oath, or who !
retracted it, may, during religious disturbances, be temporarily removed, and
imprisoned if they fail to obey the order which shall be intimated to tin m.
Is not this renewing the system of arbitrary orders, since it permits the
punishing with exile, and soon afterwards with imprisonment, one who has
not yet been convicted of having offended against any law ? The National
Assembly refuses all those who shall not lake the civic oath the free exer-
cise of their religious worship. Now, this liberty cannot be wrested from
any person. It is guaranteed forever in the declaration of righto.-"
These reasons were certainly excellent, but it u impossible to alh>\
arguments either the animosities or the fears of parlies. How pemradi
Assembly that it ought to permit refractory priests to excite disturbance and
civil war? The directory was abused, and its petition to the King was
combated by a multitude of others addressed to the legislative body. C;i-
mille Desmoulins presented a very bold petition at the head of a section;
in which might be already perceived an increasing violence of language,
and a renunciation of all the respect hitherto paid to the authorities and to
the King. Desmoulins told the Assembly that a signal example was re-
quired; that the directory ought to be tried; that it was the leaders who
ought to be prosecuted : mat it ought to strike at the head, and launch
thunderbolts at the conspirators ; mat the power of tbe royal veto had a
limit, and that a veto would not prevent tbe taking of a Bastille.
Louis XVI., though determined to refuse hi* sanction, hesitated to ac-
quaint the Assembly with his resolution. He wished first, by certain acts,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 217
to conciliate the public opinion. He selected his ministers from among the
constitutional party. Montmorin,* weary of his laborious earner under the
Constituent Assembly, and of his arduous negotiations with all the parties,
could not be induced to encounter the storms of a new legislature, and had
retired in spite of the entreaties of the King. The ministry for foreign
affairs, refused by several persons, was accepted by Delessart, who, in order
to assume it, relinquished that of the interior. Delessart, an upright and
enlightened man, was under the influence of the Constitutionalists, or Feuil-
lans ; but he was too weak to fix the will of the King, and to overawe
foreign powers and domestic factions. Cahier de Gerville, a decided patriot,
but rather rough than persuasive, was appointed to the interior, to gratify
public opinion. Narbonnc, a young; man, full of activity and ardour, a
zealous constitutionalist, and who understood the art of making himself
popular, was placed at the head of the war department by the party which
then composed the ministry. He might have had a beneficial influence
upon the council, and reconciled the Assembly with the King, if he bad not
had an adversary in Bertrand de Molleville, a counter-revolutionary minister,
who was preferred by die court to all the others.t Bertrand de Molleville,
detesting the constitution, artfully wrapped himself up in the letter for the
purpose of attacking its spirit, and sincerely desired that the King would
attempt to execute it, "merely," as he said, "to prove that it was not
practicable." The King could not make up his mind to dismiss him, and
with this mixed ministry he endeavoured to pursue his course. After he
had endeavoured to gratify public opinion by these appointments, he tried
other means for attaching it to him still more ; and he appeared to accede to i.
all the diplomatic and military measures proposed against the assemblages V '
formed upon the Rhine.
The last repressive laws had been prevented by the veto, and yet every-
day fresh denunciations apprized the Assembly of the preparations and the
threats of the emigrants. The reports (proces-verbeaux) of the munici-
palities and departments on the frontiers, and the accounts given by com-
mercial men coming from beyond the Rhine, attested that the Viscount de
Mirabeau, brother of the celebrated member of the Constituent Assembly,
was at the head of six hundred men in the bishopric of Strasburg; that, in
the territory of the elector of Mentz, and near Worms, there were numerous
corps of emigrants, under the command of the Prince of Conde ; that the
same was the case at Coblentz and throughout the whole electorate of
Treves ; that outrages and acts of violence had been committed upon
Frenchmen ; and lastly, that a proposal had been made to General Wimpfen
to deliver up New Brisach.
These accounts, in addition to many other circumstances that were matter
• " Of all the men who played an important part in the Revolution, M. de Montmorin is
perhaps the person who is least known, and has been judged with the greatest severity. He
neither constitutionalist nor democrat, but a real royalist. The extreme weakness of
his character prevented him from being useful to his majesty in circumstances that required
much •in rev. This moral weakness had its source in a sickly constitution, and can n^
more be imputed to him as a crime, than his being of a low stature, and slender frame of
body." — Bertrand de Mulleville. E.
•(•"Two of the ministers were zealous patriots ; two others were moderate, but honest ;
the fifth, liertiand de Molleville, minister of the navy, was a decided aristocrat; the sixth,
M. de Narboime, a constitutionalist, full of ardour and activity. The latter had cause to be
dissatisfied with M. Bertrand. Narbonne was displeasing to the court, from the frankness
of his disposition, the patriotism of his conduct, and his attachment to Lafayette." — La-
fayette's Memoirs. E.
vol. i.— 28 T
218 HISTORY OF THE
of public notoriety, drove the Assembly to the last degree of irritation. A
decree was immediately proposed, to require of the electors the disarming
of the emigrants. The decision was deferred for two days, that it Bight
not appear to be too much hurried. After this delay the discussion com-
menced.
[guard* was the first speaker. He insisted upon the necessity of in-
suring the tranquillity of the kingdom, not in a temporary, but in a durable
manner; of overawing by prompt and vigorous measures, which should
attest to all Europe the patriotic resolutions of France. " Fear not," said
he, " to bring upon yourselves a war with the great powers. Interest has
already decided their intentions. Your measures will not rhragr them, but
will oblige them to explain themselves. The conduct of the Frenchman
ought to correspond with his new destiny. A slave under Louis XVI., he
was nevertheless intrepid and great. Now that he is free, ought he to be
weak and timid ? They are mistaken, said Montesquieu, who imagine that
a people in a state of revolution are disposed to be conquered. They are
ready, on the contrary, to conquer others. [Applause.)
" Capitulations are proposed to you. It is proposed to increase the power
of the King — of a man whose will ran paralyze that of the whole nation,
of a man who receives thirty millions, while thousands of citizens are
perishing from want! [Fresh applause.) It is proposed to bring back the
nobility. Were all the nobles on earth to attack us, the French, holding
their gold in one hand and the sword in the other, would combat that
haughty race, and force it to endure the punishment of equality.
" Talk to the ministers, to the King, and to Europe, the language befitting
the representatives of France. Tell the ministers that, so far, you are not
satisfied with their conduct, and that by responsibility you mean death.
[Prolonged applause.) Tell Europe that you will respect the constitutions
of all other countries, but that, if a war of kings is raited against France,
you will raise a war of people against kings." The applause was here
renewed. " Say," he added, " that the battles which nations fight at the
command of despots are like the blows which two friends, excited by a per-
fidious instigator, strike at each other in the dark. The moment a light
appears they embrace, and take vengeance on him who deluded them. In
like manner, if, at the moment when the hostile armies shall be engaged
with ours, the light of philosophy bursts upon their sight, the nations will
embrace one another before the face of dethroned tyrants, of consoled earth,
and of delighted Heaven !"
The enthnsia-m excited by those words was such that the members
thronged around the speaker to embrace him. The decree which he sup-
ported was instantly adopted. M. de Vaublanc was directed to carry it to
• " M. Isnnrd, a wholesale perfumer at Draguignan, waa deputed from Var to the 1
laturc; and afterwards to the convention. Ilia father, who waa rich, had taken great paina
with his education. In 1793 he voted for the King's death, observing, that 'were the
lightnings of heaven in his hands, he would blast with them all those who should attack
the sovereignty of the people.' I<nard was outlawed as a Girondin, on the fall of that party,
hut succeeded in making his escape, and, after the overthrow of the Mountaineers, resumed
his scat in the Convention. Being then sent to the department of the Bouches du Khone,
he there declaimed vehemently asainst the Terrorists, who afterwards accused him of having
encouraged the bloody reprisals made on them in the South, and of having addressed the
people as follows: ' If you meet any Terrorists, strike them: if you have not arms, you
have sticks; if vou have not sticks, di* up your parents, and with their bones knock down
the monsters!' In 1796, Isnard became a member of the Council of Five Hundred. In
1801 he published a work on the Immortality of the Soul." — Biographit M'xltrne. E.
I FRENCH REVOLUTION. 219
the King, at tlu1 head of a deputation of twenty-four members. Ry this
decree the Assembly declared that it considered it indispensably necessary
to require tin- electors of Treves and Mentz, and the other princes of the
empire, to break up the assemblages formed on the frontiers. At the same
time it prayed the King to accelerate the negotiations commenced respecting
the indemnities due to the princes who had possessions in Alsace.
M. de Vanblanc accompanied this decree with a firm and respectful
address, which was highly applauded by the Assembly. "Sire," said he,
" i!" the French, driven from their country by the revocation of the edict of
Nantes, had assembled inarms on the frontiers, and had been protected by
German princes, we «sk you, sire, what would have been the conduct of
Louis XIV..' Would he have suffered these assemblages? Whathe would
have done for the sake of his authority, your majesty cannot hesitate to do
for the maintenance of the constitution."
Louis XVI.,, bavins: determined, as we have said, to counteract the effect
of the vt<> by acts which should gratify public opinion, resolved to go to
the Assembly and personally reply to its message in a speech likely to
give it satisfaction.
On the 14th of December, in the evening, the King accordingly went, after
having announced his intention in the morning by a mere note. He said
that the message of the Assembly deserved mature consideration, and that,
in a circumstance in which French honour was involved, he deemed it right
t.» come in person ; that, sharing the intentions of the Assembly, but dread-
ing the scourge of war, he had endeavoured to bring back the misled French ;
that friendly remonstrances having proved ineffectual, he had anticipated
the message of the representatives, and signified to the electors, that if,
before the I5th of January, the assemblage of troops should not have ceased,
they should be considered as enemies of France; that he had written to the
emperor to claim his interference as head of the empire; and that, in case
satisfaction were not obtained, he should propose war. He concluded with
saying that it would be vain to attempt to surround the exercise of his
authority with disgust; that he would faithfully guard the deposit of the
constitution; and that he deeply felt how glorious it was to be King of a
free people.
Applause succeeded the silence, and made the King amends for the
reception which he had experienced on entering. The Assembly having
1 in the morning that he should be answered by a message, could
not immediately express its satisfaction, but gave orders that his speech
should be sent to the eighty-three departments. Narbonne soon afterwards
entered, to commfmic&te the means which had been adopted to insure the
of the intimations addressed to the empire. One hundred thousand
men were to be assembled on the Rhine ; and this, he added, was not
idle. Three generals were appointed to command them, Luckner,
Rochambeau, and Lafayette.* The last name was received with applause.
• "Luckner had been the most distinguished partisan of the seven years' war. After the
I Juke of Chotaeol drew him into our service. He was much attached to
the new constitution, but without pretending to understand it; and when the Jacohins
v.is'n-d to <-v:i!i his lilxral opinions, he often embarrassed them by making the most absurd
blunder*. He had not the power of forming great combinations, but he had a <piick eye,
the hnliit of military tactics, and all the activity of youth. RorhamU-nu, who had made his
fortune by anna, had been engaged in the war of Flanders, and distinguished himself also in
-' wir. He never loal light of the points most important to the soldier's trade.
Those two mareheja had one fault in common — thev were too distrustful of their new and
220 HISTORY OF THE
Narbonne added that he should set out immediately to inspect the frontiers,
to ascertain the state of the fortresses, and to give the greatest activity to
defensive operations ; that no doubt the Assembly would grant the necessary
funds, and not cheapen liberty. Cries of " No, no," burst from all sides.
Lastly, he asked the Assembly if, though the legal number of marshals was
complete, it would not permit the King to confer that rank on the two gene-
rals, Luckner, and Rochambeau, who were charged to save liberty. Accla-
mations testified the consent of the Assembly and the satisfaction caused by
the activity of the young minister. It was by persevering in such conduct
that Louis XVI. might have succeeded in gaining popularity and reconciling
the republicans, who wished for a republic solely because they believed the
King to be incapable of loving and defending liberty.
Advantage was taken of the satisfaction produced by these measures to
notify the veto affixed to the decree against the priests. Care was taken to
publish in the journals of the same morning, the dismissal of the former
diplomatic agents accused of aristocracy, and the appointment of new ones.
Owing to these precautions, the message was received without a murmur.
The Assembly, indeed, expected it, and the sensation was not so unfavour-
able as might have been apprehended. We see how extremely cautious the
King was obliged to be in making use of his prerogative, and what danger
he incurred in employing it. Had the Constituent Assembly, which is
accused of having ruined by stripping him of his authority, conferred on
him the absolute veto, would he have been more powerful on that account ?
Had not the suspensive veto in this case all the effect of the absolute pete?
Was it legal power that the King lacked, or the power of opinion ? We
see, from the effect itself, that it was not the want of sufficient preroga-
tives which ruined Louis XVI., but the indiscreet use of those which were
left him.
The activity promised to the Assembly was not delayed. The pi
tions for the expenses of the war and for the nomination of the two mar-
shals, Luckner, and Rochambeau, followed without interruption. Lafayette,
forced from the retirement which he had sought, in order to recruit himself
after three years' fatigues, presented himself before the Assembly, where
he was cordially received. Battalions of the national guard escorted him
on leaving Paris, and every thing proved to him that the name of Lafayette
was not forgotten, but that he was still regarded as one of the founders of
liberty.
Meanwhile Leopold, naturally peaceful, was not desirous of war, for he
knew that it was not consistent with his interests ; but he wished for a con-
gress backed by an imposing force, in order to bring about an accommoda-
tion and some modifications in the constitution. The emigrants wished not
to modify but to destroy it.* More prudent and better informed, the empe-
inexperienced troops. Lafayette did not share this feeling. He augured better of the
enthusiasm for lilwrty, having been an American general officer at the age of nineteen.
With the exception of these three generals, there was not an officer in the French army who
had ever fought at the head of two thousand men." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
• "The emigrants were unanimous in their desire for an invasion, and in their exertions
at all foreign courts. M. de Calonne, the principal agent of the princes, had publicly said at
Brussels, ' If the powers detay making war, we shall know how to make the French declare
it.' The King and Queen hesitated between various parties. The Queen especially, who
would have consented to owe her deliverance to Austrian or even Prussian arms, was with-
held by her reluctance to lay herself under obligations to Monsieur, whom she MWf liked,
and the Count d'Artois, whom she no longer liked. 'The Count d'Artois will then become
a hero !' she exclaimed, in a tone of bitterness." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 221
t
tax knew that it was necessary to concede a great deal to the new opinions,
and that the utmost that could he expected was to restore to the King certain
prerogatives, and to modify the composition of the legislative body liy the
establishment of two chambers instead of one.*
* I have already hail occasion to refer several times to the sentiments of Leopold, of Louis
XVI., ami of the emigrants: I shall now quote some extracts, which will leave no doubt
respecting them. Bouille, who was abroad, and whose reputation and talents had caused
him to l>e courted by the sovereigns, had opportunities of learning better than any other per-
son the sentiments of the different courts, and his testimony is above suspicion. In different
parts of Ml .Memoirs he thus expresses himself:
" It may be inferred from this letter that the King of Sweden was quite uncertain respect-
ing the real plans of the emperor and his allies, which ought then to have been not to inter-
fere any more in the affairs of France. The empress (of Russia) was no doubt informed of
them, but she had not communicated them to him. I knew that at the moment she was
exerting all her influence with the emperor and the King of Prussia to induce them to declare
war against France. She had even written a very strong letter to the former of these sove-
reigns, hi which she represented to him that the King of Prussia, for a mere incivility sflerad
to his sister, had sent an army into Holland, whilst he (the emperor) patiently sullered the
insults and affronts heaped upon the Queen of France, the degradation of her rank and dig-
nity, ami the overthrow of the throne of a King, who was his brother-in-law and ally. The
empress acted with the like energy towards Spain, which had? adopted pacific principles.
Meanwhile the emperor, after the acceptance of the constitution by the King, had received
the new ambassador of France, whom he had previously forbidden to appear at his court.
He was even the first to admit the national flag into his ports. The courts of Madrid,
Petersburg, and Stockholm, were the only ones which at this period withdrew their ambas-
sadors from Paris. All these circumstances tend to prove that the views of Leopold were
directed towards peace, and that they were the result of the influence of Louis XVI. and of
the Queen." — Memoires de Bouille, p. 314.
In another place Bouille says :
" Meanwhile several months elapsed without my perceiving any progress in the plans which
the emperor had entertained for assembling armies on the frontiers, for forming a congress,
and for opening a negotiation with the French government. I presumed that the King had
hoped that his acceptance of the new constitution would restore to him his personal liberty,
and re-establish tranquillity in the nation, which an armed negotiation might have disturbed ;
and that he had consequently prevailed upon the emperor and the other sovereigns, his allies,
not to take any step liable to produce hostilities, which he had constantly studied to avoid. I
was confirmed in this opinion by the unwillingness of the court of Spain to furnish the fifteen
millions of livres, which she had engaged to give him towards the expenses of his expedition.
This prince had prevailed on me to write on his behalf to the Spanish minister, from whom
I received only vague replies. I then advised the King of Sweden to open n loan in Holland,
or in the free maritime cities of the north, under the guarantee of Spain, whose dispositions,
however, in regard to the affairs of France, appeared to me to be changed.
" I learned that the anarchy was daily increasing in France, and this was but too plainly
proved by the multitude of emigrants of all classes who sought refuge on the foreign frontiers.
They were armed and formed into regiments on the banks of the Rhine, and they composed
a little army which threatened the provinces of Alsace and Lorraine. These measures awakened
the fury of the people, and aided the destructive projects of the Jacobins and anarchists.
The emigrants had even planned an attempt upon Strasburg, where they imagined that they
had supporters who could be relied on, and partisans who would open the gates to them. The
King, who was informed of the scheme, employed commands and even entreaties to stop
them, and to prevent them from committing any act of hostility. To this end he sent to the
princes, his brothers, the Baron de Viomenil, and the Chevalier de Cogny, who signified to
them, in his name, his disapprobation of the arming of the French nobility, to which the
emperor opposed all possible obstacles, but which was nevertheless continued." — lbid^
p. 309.
Lastly, Bouille gives, from the lips of Leopold himself, his plan of a congress:
" At length, on the 12th of September, the Emperor Leopold sent me word to call on him,
and to bring with me the plan of the arrangements for which he had previously asked me.
He desired me to step into his cabinet, and told me that he could not speak to me earlier on
the subject concerning which he wished to see me, because he was waiting for answers from
Russia, -Spain, England, and the principal sovereigns of Italy ; that he had received them, and
t2
232 HISTORY OF THE
This last measure was the most dreaded, and it was with the plan of it
that the Feuillant or constitutional party was most frequendy reproached.
It is certain that, if this party had, in the early time of the Constituent As-
sembly, opposed the upper chamber, because it jusdy apprehended that the
nobility would there intrench themselves, it had not now the same fears. On
the contrary, it had just hopes of filling such a chamber almost of itself.
Many constituents, reduced to mere ciphers, would there have found occa-
sion to appear again on the political stage. If then this upper chamber did
not accord with their views, still less did it accord with their interests. It
is certain that the newspapers frequendy adverted to it, and that this report
was universally circulated. How rapid had been the progress of the Revo-
lution ! The right side at this time was composed of members of the former
left side ; and the plan so dreaded and condemned, was not a return to die
old system but the establishment of an upper chamber. What a difference
from 1789 ! How swiftly a foolish resistance had hurried on events !
Leopold perceived then no other possible amelioration for Louis WI.
Meanwhile, his object was to protract the negotiations, and, without break-
ing with France, to awe her by his firmness. But this aim he thwarted by
his answer. This answer consisted in a notification of the resolutions of the
diet of Ratisbon, which refused to accept any indemnity for the princes who
had possessions in Alsace. Nothing could be more absurd than such a de-
cision ; for the whole territory subject to one and the same rule ought also
to be subject to the same laws. If princes of the empire had estates in
France, it was right that they should be comprehended in the abolition of
feudal rights, and the Constituent Assembly had done a great deal in grain-
ing indemnities for them. Several of those princes having already treated
on this point, the diet annulled their agreements, and forbade them to accept
any composition. The empire thus pretended not to recognise the Revolu-
tion in as far as itself was concerned. With regard to the assemblages of
they were conformable with his intentions and his plans ; that he was assured of their assist-
ance in the execution, and of their agreement ; excepting, however, the cabinet of St. James's,
which had declared its determination to preserve the strictest neutrality. He had taken the
resolution to assemble a congress, to treat with the French government, not only concerning
the redress of the grievances of the Germanic body, whose rights in Alsace and in other parts
of the frontier provinces had been violated, but at the same time concerning the means of
restoring order in the kingdom of France, the anarchy of which disturlied the tranquillity of
all Europe. He added, that this negotiation should be supported by formidable armies, with
which France would be encompassed ; that he hoped this expedient would succeed nnd pre-
vent a sanguinary war, the very last resource that he would employ. I took the liberty of
asking the emperor if he was informed of the real intentions of the King. He was acquainted
with them ; he knew that this prince disliked the employment of violent means. He told
me that he was, moreover, informed that the charter of the new constitution was to be pre-
sented to him in a few days, and that it was his opinion that the King could not avoid
accepting it without restriction, from the risks to which he would subject his life and the lives
of his family, if he made the least difficulty, and if he hazarded the slightest observation; but
that his sanction, forced at the time, was of no importance, as it was possible to rescind all
that should have been done, and to give France a good government, which should nlhfy the
people, and leave to the royal authority a latitude of powers sufficient to maintain tranquillity
at home and to insure peace abroad. He asked mc for the plan of disposition of the armies,
assuring me that he would examine it at leisure. He added, that I might return to Mentz,
where Count de Brown, who was to command his troops, and who was then in the Nether-
lands, would send word to me, as well as to Prince Hohenlohe, who was going into Franco-
nia, in order that we might confer together, when the time should arrive.
" I judged that the emperor had not adopted this pacific and extremely reasonable plan,
since the conference of Pilnitz, till he had consulted Louis XVI., who had constantly wished
for an arrangement, and to have recourse to negotiation rather than the violent expedient of
arms."— Ibid., p. 299.
• FRENCH REVOLUTION. 223
emigrants, Leopold, without entering into explanation on the subject of their
dispersion, answered Louis XVI. that, as the Elector of Treves might, ac-
cording to the intimations of the French government, be exposed to speedy
hostilities, he had ordered (ieneral Hender to give him prompt assistance.
Nothing could have been more injudicious than this answer. It obliged
Louis XVL, in order that he might not compromise himself, to adopt vigor-
ous measures and to propose war. Delessart was immediately sent to the
Assembly to communicate this answer, and to express the astonishment
which the King felt at the conduct of Leopold. The minister alleged that
the emperor had probably been deceived, and that he had been falsely per-
suaded that the elector had performed all the duties of a friendly neighbour.
Delessart communicated also the reply returned to Leopold. It was inti-
mated to him that, notwithstanding his answer and the orders given to Mar-
shal Bender, if the electors had not, by the time prescribed, namely, the 15th
of January, complied with the requisition of France, arms would be employed
against them.
"If," said Louis XVL, in his letter to the Assembly, "this declaration
fails to produce the eilect which I have reason to hope from it, if it is the
destiny of France to be obliged to fight her own children, and her allies, I
will make known to Europe the justice of our cause: the French people
will uphold it by their courage, and the nation will see that I have no other
interest but its interest, and that I shall ever consider the maintenance of its
dignity and safety as the most essential of my duties."
These words, in which the King seemed in the common danger to unite
with the nation, were warmly applauded. The papers were delivered to
the diplomatic committee, with directions to make a speedy report upon
them to the Assembly.
The Queen was once more applauded at the Opera as in the days of her
splendour and her power, and, quite overjoyed, she told her husband on her
return that she had been received as formerly. But this was the last homage
paid to her by a people which had once idolized her royal graces. That
feeling of equality, which remains so long dormant in men, and which is so
capricious when it does awake, began already to manifest itself on all sides.
It was very near the conclusion of the year 1791 ; the Assembly abolished
the ancient ceremonial of new year's day, and decided that the homage paid
to the King on that solemn day should thenceforth cease. Just about the
same time, a deputation complained that the folding-doors of the council-
chamber had not been opened for it. The discussion was scandalous, and
the Assembly in writing to the King, suppressed the titles of sire and ma-
jesty. On another occasion, a deputy entered the King's apartment with
his hat on, and in a very unsuitable dress. This conduct was frequently
provoked by the rude reception given by the courtiers to the deputies ; and
in these reprisals the pride of both was determined not to be outdone.
Narbonne prosecuted his tour with extraordinary activity. Three armies
were formed on the threatened frontier. Rochambeau, a veteran general,
who had formerly displayed ability in war, but who was now ailing, ill-hu-
moured, and discontented, commanded the army stationed in Flanders, and
called the army of the North. Lafayette had the army of the centre, and
was encamped near Metz. Luckner, an old warrior, an ordinary general,
a brave soldier, and very popular in the army for his exclusively military
manners, commanded the corps which occupied Alsace. These were all the
generals that a long peace and a general desertion had left us.
Rochambeau, dissatisfied with the new system, and irritated with the
224 HISTORY OF THE •
want of discipline which prevailed in the army, was constantly complaining
and held out no hope to the ministers. Lafayette, young, active, and anx-
ious to distinguish himself forthwith in the defence of the country, re-esta-
blished discipline among his troops, and overcame all the difficulties raised
by the ill-will of the officers, who were the aristocrats of the army. He
called them together, and, addressing them in the language of honour, he
told them that they must quit the camp if they would not serve loyally ;
that, if any of them wished to retire, he would undertake to procure them
either pensions in France, or passports for foreign countries ; but that, if
they persisted in serving, he expected from them zeal and fidelity. In this
manner he contrived to introduce into his army better order than that which
prevailed in any of the others. As for Luckner, having no political opinion,
and being consequently indifferent to all systems, he promised the Assem-
bly a great deal, and actually succeeded in gaining the attachment of the
soldiers.
Narbonne travelled with the greatest expedition, and returned to give an
account of his rapid journey to the Assembly. He reported that the repair
of the fortresses was already considerably advanced ; that the army, from
Dunkirk to Besan^on, presented a mass of two hundred and forty battalions,
and one hundred and sixty squadrons, with artillery requisite for two hun-
dred thousand men, and supplies for six months. He bestowed the highest
encomiums on the patriotism of the volunteer national guards, and declared
that in a short time their equipment would be complete. The young minis-
ter no doubt gave way to the illusions of zeal, but his intentions were so
noble, and his operations so prompt, that the Assembly loaded him with
applause, held forth his report to the public gratitude, and sent it to all the
departments — the usual way of expressing esteem for those with whom it
was satisfied.
War then was the great question of the moment. For the Revolution it
was a question of existence itself. Its enemies being now abroad, it was
there that it became necessary to seek and to conquer them. Would the King,
as chief of the armies, act cordially against his relatives and his former cour-
tiers ? Such was the doubt which it was of importance to clear up to the
satisfaction of the nation. This question of war was discussed at the
Jacobins, which suffered none to pass without pronouncing a sovereign de-
cision upon it. What will appear singular is, that the outrageous Jacobins,
and Robespierre, their leader, were in favour of peace, and the moderate
Jacobins, or Girondins, for war.* Brissot and Louvet were at their head.
Brissot advocated war with his talents and influence. He thought with
Louvet and all the Girondins that it was desirable for the nation, because it
would put an end to a dangerous uncertainty, and unveil the real intentions
of the King. These men, judging of the result by their own enthusiasm,
could not believe that the nation would be conquered ; and they thought
that if, through the fault of the King, it experienced any transient check,
it would instantly be enlightened and depose an unfaithful chief. How-
happened it that Robespierre and the other Jacobins opposed a determina-
tion which must produce so speedy and so decisive a denouement / In
• " The Jacobins attached to Robespierre, were opposed to war, because they feared its
being directed by their political rivals, and also because several of them, from pecuniary inte-
rests, like Danton, or from causes of which they themselves were ignorant, were under the
guidance of that small party of the court who were engaged in secret negotiations. The
Girondins, at that period, wished for war at any price, in the hope that it would facilitate
their vague projects of ambition." — Lafayette a Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 225
answer to this question nothing but conjectures can be offered. Was the
timid Robespierre afraid of war .' Or did he oppose it only bei
his rival at the Jacobins, supported it, and because young Louvet bad de-
fended it with ability I Be this as it may. he fought with extreme obstinacy
for peace. The Cordeliers, who were Jacobins, attended (he djSCUMft
and supported Robespierre. They seemed more especially afraid lest war
should trive too many advantages to Lafayette, and s,oon procure for him
the military dictatorship. This was the continual fear of Camille Desmou-
lins, who never ceased to figure him to himself at the head of a victorious
army, as in the Champ de Mars, crushing Jacobins and Cordeliers. Louvet
and the Girondins attributed a different motive to the Cordeliers, and sup-
posed them to be hostile to Lafayette, because he was an enemy of the Duke
of Orleans, with whom they were said to be secretly united.
The Duke of Orleans, now again brought before the public by the suspi-
cions of his enemies rather than by the Revolution, was then nearly eclipsed.
At the commencement, his name might have had some weight, and he him-
self might have conceived some hope of those to whom he lent it ; but
everything had since greatly changed. Feeling himself how much he was
out of his place in the popular party, he had endeavoured to obtain the par-
don of the court during the latter days of the Constituent Assembly, and had
been repulsed. Under the Legislative, he had been retained in the list of
admirals, and he had made fresh solicitations to the King. On this occa-
sion he was admitted to his presence, had a long conversation with him, and ,
not unfavourably received. He was to return to the palace. He re-
paired thither. The Queen's dinner was served, and numerous courtiers
were in attendance. No sooner was he perceived than the most insulting
expressions were uttered. " Take care of the dishes !" was the general
cry, as though they had been afraid that he would throw poison into them.
They pushed him, trod on his toes, and obliged him to retire. As he went
down stairs, he received fresh insults, and departed in deep indignation,
conceiving that the King and Queen had prepared for him this humiliating
■'. They, however, were totally ignorant of it, and were extremely
shocked at the imprudence of the courtiers." That prince had a right to I
* The following is Bertrand de Molleville's account of this circumstance :
" I made a report on the same day to the council of the visit paid me hy the Duke of Or-
leans and of our conversation. The King determined to receive him, and on the next day
he had a conversation with him of more than half an hour, with which his majesty appeared
to us to be much pleased. ' I think, like you,' said the King, ■ that he is perfectly sincere, \ "*Jt
and that he will do all that lies in his power to repair the mischief which he has done, and
in which it is possible that he may not have taken so large a part as we have imagined.'
" On the following Sunday, he came to the King's levee, where he met with the most hu-
miliating reception from the courtiers, who were ignorant of what had passed, and from the
royalists, who were in the habit of repairing to the palace in great numbers on that day, to
pay their court to the royal family. They crowded around him, making believe to tread
upon his toes and to thrust him towards the door, so as to prevent him from entering. He
went down stairs to the Queen, whose table was already laid. The moment he appeared, a
cry was raised on all sides of Gentlemen, take care of the dishes ! as though they had been
sure that his pockets were full of poison.
•• The insulting murmurs which his presence everywhere excited forced him to retire with-
out seeing the royal family. He was pursued to the Queen's staircase, where some one spat
oti his head and several times upon his coat. Rage and vexation were depicted in his mat ;
and be left the palace convinced that the instigators of the outrages which he had received were
the King and Queen, who knew nothing of the matter, and who indeed were extremely
angry about it. He swore implacable hatred against them, and kept but too faithfully this
horrible oath. I was at that day, and witnessed all the circumstances that I h i
lure related." — lirrlrand de Molleville, tome vi., p. 290. E.
vol. i. — 29
226 HISTORY OF THE
more exasperated than ever, btit he certainly hecame neither a more active
nor a more able party-leader than before. His friends at the Jacobins and
in the Assembly, no doubt, thought fit to make a little more noise ; hence it
was supposed that his faction was again raising its head, and it was thought
that his pretensions and his hopes were renewed by the dangers of the
throne.
The Girondins imagined that the extreme Cordeliers and Jacobins advo-
cated peace with no other view than to deprivi ■. the rival of the
Duke of Orleans, of the reputation which war might give him. Be this as
it may, war, deprecated by the Jacobins, but supported by the Girondins,
could not fad to be adopted by the Assembly, in which the latter had the
ascendancy. The Assembly began by putting under accusation, from the
first of January, Monsieur, the King's brother, the Count d'Artois,* the
Prince of Conde\ Calonne, Mirabeau the younger ,t and Lequeille, as charged
with the commission of hostilities against France. As a decree of
tion was not submitted to the King for his sanction, no veto was in this c
to be apprehended. The sequestration of the property of the emigra
and the application of their revenues to the benefit of the state, enacted by
the unsanctioned decree, were prescribed anew by another decree, to which
the King made no opposition. The Assembly took possession of the r<
nues as indemnities for the war. Monsieur was deprived of the regency
by virtue of the resolution previously adopted.
The report of the last despatch of the emperor was at length presented
to the Assembly by Gensonne. He represented that France had
lavished her treasures and her troops for Austria without ever obtaining any
return; that the treaty of alliance concluded in 1756 had bees violated by
the declaration of Pilnitz, and the subsequent declarations, the object of
which was to raise up an armed coalition of sovereigns ; that this had like-
wise been done by the arming of the emigrants, permitted and even seconded
by the princes of the empire. Gensonne. moreover, insisted that, though
orders had recently been given for the dispersion of such asscmbl.u
apparent orders had not been executed; that the white cockade had not
ceased to be worn beyond the Rhine, the national cockade to be insulted,
and French travellers maltreated ; that, in consequence, it behoved the
sembly to demand of the emperor a final explanation relative to the tr
of 1756. The report was ordered to be printed, and the consideration of
it adjourned.
• Monsieur, afterwards Louis the Eighteenth, who died in the year 1824. Count
d'Artois, afterwards Charles the Tenth, who died in exile at Grate, in Styria, in die year
1836. E.
■j- " Vicompte de Boniface de Riquetti Mirabeau was brother of (he famous Mirabeau, and
served with distinction in America. His celebrated relative said of him one day, ' In any
other family the Vicompte would be a good-for-nothing fellow and a genius : in ours, ho is
a blockhead and a worthy man.' In 1789 the younger Mirabeau was deputed to the Stales-
general, and defended his order with an energy equal to that with which his brother attacked
it. On one occasion, when he had kept possession of the tribune above an hour, the latter,
after the sitting was concluded, went to his house, and gently reproached him with often
drinking to excess, which led him into unpleasant embarrassments. ' What do you com-
plain of!' answered the Viscount, laughing ; • this is the only one of all the family vices that
you have left me.' In 1790 the younger Mirabeau emigrated, levied a legion, and set
under the Prince of Condc. His singular conformation had pained him the nickname of
• Hogshead ;' and indeed he was almost as big as he mi tall, but hi* countenance was full
of intelligence. In the hefrinning of the Revolution he wrote a satire entitled the ' Matrix
Lantern,' and left behind him a collection of tali"-- the versification of which is sprightly and
graceful." — Biographie Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 227
On the same day, January 14, 1792, Guadet ascended the tribune. •• < >f
all the facts," said lie. u communicated to the Assembly, thai by which it
has been most struck is the plan of a congress to be assembled for the pur-
pose of obtaining the modification of the French constitution — a plan long
suspected, and at length denounced as possible by the committees and the
ministers. If it be true," added Guadet, " that this intrigue is conducted
by men who fancy that they discover in it the means of emerging from that
political non-entity into which they have just sunk; if it be true that some
of the agents of the executive power are seconding with all the influence
of their connexions this abominable plot; if it be true that they think to
bring us by delay and discouragement to accept this ignominious mediation —
ought the National Assembly to shut its eyes to such dangers ? Let us
swear.'" exclaimed the speaker. " to die all of us on this spot, rather . . . ."
He was not allowed to finish: the whole Assembly rose, crying, " Yes, yes,
we swear it ;" and with enthusiasm it declared every Frenchman who should
take part in a congress the object of which was to modify the constitution,
infamous and a traitor to his country. It was more especially against the
members of the late Constituent Assembly, and Delessart, the minister, that
this decree was directed. It was Delessart who was accused of protracting
the negotiations. On the 17th, the discussion on Gensonne's report was
resumed, and it was resolved that the King should not treat further, unless
in the name of the French nation, and that he should require of the empe-
ror a definite explanation before the 1st of March ensuing. The King
replied that it was more than a fortnight since he had demanded positive
explanations from Leopold.
During this interval, news arrived that the Elector of Treves, alarmed at
the urgency of the French cabinet, had issued fresh orders for the dispersion
of the assemblages of troops, for the sale of the magazines formed in his domi-
nions, and for prohibiting recruiting and military exercises ; and that these
orders were, in fact, carried into execution. In the then prevailing disposi-
tion, this intelligence was coldly received. The Assembly would not regard
these measures in any other light than as empty demonstrations without re-
sult: and persisted in demanding the definitive answer of Leopold.
Dissensions existed in the ministry between Bertrand de Molleville and
Narbonne. Bertrand was jealous of the popularity of the minister at war,
and found fault with his condescension to the Assembly. Narbonne com-
plained of the conduct of Bertrand de Molleville and of his unconstitutional
sentiments, and wished that the King would dismiss him from the ministry.
Cahier de Gerville held the balance between them, but without success. It
was alleged that the constitutional party were desirous of raising Narbonne
to the dignity of prime minister : it would even appear that the King was
imposed upon, that the popularity and the ambition of Narbonne were em-
ployed as bugbears to frighten him, and that he was represented to him as
a presumptuous young man who wanted to govern the cabinet. The news-
papers were informed of these dissensions. Brissot and the Gironde
warmly defended the minister who was threatened with disgrace, and as
warmly attacked his colleagues and the King. A letter, written by the three
generals of the north to Narbonne, in which they expressed their apprehen-
sions respecting his dismissal, which was said to be near at hand, was pub-
lished. The King, irritated at this, immediately dismissed him; but, to
counteract the effect of this dismissal, he declared his determination to remove
Bertrand de Molleville also. The effect of the first, however, was not
weakened by the latter step. It excited an extraordinary sensation, and the
228 HISTORY OF THE
Assembly resolved to declare, agreeably to the form previously adopted in
Necker's case, that Narbonne carried with him the confidence of the nation,
and that the entire ministry had lost it. From that condemnation, however,
it proposed to except Gahier de Gerville, who had always been hostile to
Bertrand de Molleville, and who had even just had a violent quarrel with
him. After much agitation, Brissot offered to prove that Delessart had be-
trayed the confidence of the nation. This minister had communicated to the
diplomatic committee his correspondence with Kaunitz. It was without
dignity, and even gave Kaunitz a very unfavourable notion of the state of
Franco, and seemed to have authorized the conduct and the language of
Leopold. It should be observed that Delessart and his colleague, Dupont-
Dutertre, were the two ministers who belonged more particularly to the Feuil-
lans, and who were most disliked, because they were accused of favouring
the plan of a congress. ^iot
In one of the most stormy sittings of the Assembly, the unfortunate De-
lessart was accused by Brissot of having compromised the dignity of the
nation, of having neglected to apprize the Assembly of the concert of the
powers and the declaration of Pilnitz ; of having professed unconstitutional
doctrines in his notes : of having given Kaunitz a false notion of the state
of France ; of having protracted the negotiation, and conducted it in a man-
ner contrary to the interests of the country. Vergniaud joined Brissot, and
added new grievances to those imputed to Delessart. He reproached him
for having, when minister of the interior, kept too long in his portfolio the
decree which incorporated the Comtat with France, and thus having caused
the massacres at Avignon.* " From this tribune from which I address you."
added Vergniaud, " may be seen the palace where perverse advisers mislead
and deceive the King whom the constitution has given us. I see the win-
dows of the palace where they are hatching counter-revolution, where they
are combining the means of plunging us back into slavery. In ancient times
terror has often stalked forth in the name of despotism from this' iamovs
palace; letus now return thither, in the name of the law; let it th
every heart ; let all those who dwell in it know that our constitution grants
inviolability to the King alone."
The decree of accusation was immediately put to the vote ami earned.
Delessart was sent to the high national court, established at Orleans, which
was empowered by the constitution to try crimes against the state. I
King felt the greatest pain at his departure. He had given him his confi-
dence, and been delighted with his moderate and pacific sentiments. Duport-
Dutertre, minister of the constitutional party, was also threatened with an
accusation, but he anticipated it, demanded permission to justify himself.
was absolved by the order of the day, and immediately afterwards n
Cahier de Gerville also gave in his resignation, and thus the King found
himself deprived of the only one of his ministers who had a reputation for
patriotism with the Assembly.
* ''On Sunday, the 30th of October, 1791, the gates were closed, the walls guarded ao as
to render escape impossible, and a band of assassins, commanded by the barbarous Jourdan,
nought out in their own houses the individuals destined for death. Sixty unhappy wretches
were speedily thrust into prison, where, during the obscurity of the night, the murderers
wreaked their vengeance with impunity. One young man put fourteen to death with his
own hand, and only desisted from excess of futigue! Twelve women [>erished, after having
undergone tortures which my pen cannot describe. When vengeance had done its wo
the remains of the victims were torn and mutilated, and heaped up in a ditch, or thrown into
the Khone."— iAcretelk. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 229
Separated from the ministers whom the Feuillans hail given him, and not
knowing to whom to cling amidst this storm, Louis XVI., who had disnn
Narbonne because be was too popular, thought of connecting himself with
the Gironde, which was republican. It is true that it was so only from dis-
trust of the King; and it was possible that, when lie had once committed
himself to this party, it might attach itself to him. Hut it would have been
requisite that he should give himself up sincerely; and that everlasting
stion of sincerity arose here as on all other occasions. No doubt Louis
\ VI. was sincere when he consigned himself to a party, but it was not with-
out ill-humour and regret. Thus, when this party imposed upon him a diffi-
cult but necessary condition, he rejected it. Distrust instantly sprang up,
animosity followed, and very soon a rupture was the consequence of those
unhappy alliances between hearts which were exclusively occupied by two
opposite interests. Thus it was that Louis XVI., after admitting the Feuil-
lant party to his presence, had, in a tit of ill-humour, dismissed Narbonne,
who was its most conspicuous chief, and now found himself reduced to the
necessity of giving himself up to the Gironde, in order to allay the storm.
The example of England, where the King frequently takes his ministers
from the opposition, was one of the motives of Louis XVI. The court then
conceived a hope — for people cannot help forming hopes, even in the most
gloomy conjectures, that Louis XVI., by taking incapable and ridiculous
demagogues, would ruin the reputation of the party from which he should
have selected them. This hope, however, was not realized; and the new
ministry was not such as the malice of the courtiers would have desired.
Above a month before this time, Delessart and Narbonne had selected a
man whose talents they held in higto estimation, and placed him near them
for the purpose of availing themselves of his abilities. This was Dumouriez,
who, having successfully commanded in Normandy and in La Vendee, had
everywhere displayed extraordinary firmness and intelligence*. He had first
offered himself to the court, and then to the Constituent Assembly, because
all parties were the same to him, provided he had opportunities to exercise
his activity and his superior talents. Dumouriez, kept down by the times
in which he lived, had spent part of his life in diplomatic intrigues. With
his braven,', and his military and political genius, lie was still, at the age of
fifty, and at the commencement of the Revolution, only a brilliant military
adventurer.* He had nevertheless retained the fire and the hardihood of
youth, and, as soon as there appeared a prospect of war or a revolution, he
formed plans and addressed them to all the parties, ready to act for any,
provided he could but act. He was thus accustomed not to take any account
of the nature of a cause; but though too little swayed by conviction, he was
generous, sensible, and capable of attachment, if not for principles, at least
for persons. Yet, with such a graceful, prompt, and comprehensive mind,
and courage alternately calm and impetuous, he was admirable for serving,
but incapable of directing. He had neither the dignity of a profound con-
• "The following expressions paint Dumouriez completely. 'Honour to the patriots
who took the Bastille !' he exclaims in his Memoirs ; yet a few pages after, we find that
being at Caen, in 1789, when an insurrection was feared in Paris, he composed a memorial
on the best means of maintaining order, and defending the Bastille !' A sister of the famous
emigrant Rivarol was Dumouriez's mistress. The son of a commissary of war, known by the
poem of 'Richardet,' Dumouriez had l>een wounded during the seven years' war, and was
much engaged in the secret correspondence, a sort of diplomatic system of espionnage, of
which Louis XVI. had given the superintendence to the Count de Broglie.'' — Lafayette'*
Memoirs. E.
u
230 HISTORY OF THE
viction nor the pride of a despotic will, and he could command none but
soldiers. If with his genius, he had possessed the passions of a Mirabeau,
or the resolution of a Cromwell, or merely the dogmatism of a Robespierre,
he might have directed the course of the Revolution, and France.
No sooner was Dumouriez connected with Narbonne, than he formed a
vast military plan. He was at once for offensive and defend
Wherever France extended to her natural limits, the Rhine, the Alps, tin-
Pyrenees, and the sea, he proposed that she should confine herself to the
defensive. But in the Netherlands, where our territory did not extend to
the Rhine, and in Savoy, where it did not extend to the Alps, he proposed
that we should attack immediately, and that, on reaching the natural limits,
we should resume the defensive. This would have been reconciling at
once our interests with our principles, as it would have been profiting by a
war which we had not provoked, to return on the score of boundaries to
the genuine laws of nature. Dumouriez proposed a fourth army, destined
to occupy the South, and applied for the command of it, which was pro-
mised him.
Dumouriez had gained the good-will of Gensonne, one of the civil com-
missioners sent into La Vendee by the Constituent Assembly, afterwards
a deputy to the Legislative Assembly, and one of the most influential mem-
bers of the Gironde. He had remarked, moreover, that the Jacobins were
the predominating power. He had attended their club and read several
memorials which had been highly applauded, but had nevertheless kept up
his former intimacy with Delaporte, intendant of the civil list, and a devoted
friend of Louis XVI. Connected thus with the different powers which
were on the point of uniting, Dumouriez could not fail to carry all before
him and to be carted to the ministry. Louis XVI. offered him the portfolio
of foreign affairs, which the decree of accusation against Delcssart had just
rendered vacant; but, still attached to the accused minister, the King offered
it only ad interim. Dumouriez, feeling that he was powerfully supported,
and disliking to appear to keep the place for a Feuillant minister, refused
the portfolio, and obtained it without an ad interim stipulation. He found
only.Cahier de Gerville and Degraves in the ministry. Cahierde Gerville,
though he had given in his resignation, had not yet relinquished du
Degraves had succeeded Narbonne. He was young, easy, and inexperienced.
Dumouriez contrived to gain him, and thus he held in his hands the foreign
relations and the military administration of the war. Nothing else would
have satisfied his enterprising spirit.
No sooner had he attained the ministry than Dumouriez put on the red
cap at the Jacobins— a new distinction borrowed from the Phrygians, and
which had become the emblem of liberty. He promised to govern for
them and by them. On being presented to Louis XVI., he pacified him
respecting his conduct at the Jacobins. He removed the prejudices which
that conduct had excited ; he had the art to touch him by testimonies of
attachment, and to dispel his gloomy melancholy by his wit. He persuaded
him that if he sought popularity it was only for the benefit of the throne
and for the purpose of strengthening it. But, notwithstanding all his
deference, he took care to make the prince sensible that the constitution was
inevitable, and endeavoured to console him by striving to prove that with it
a King might still be very powerful. His first despatches to the
full of sound reason and firmness, changed the nature of the negotiations,
and gave France quite a new attitude, but rendered war imminent.
natural that Dumouriez should desire war. since he had a genius for it. and
1
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 231
had meditated Uiirty-six years on that great art: but it must also be admitted
that the conduct of I i of Vienna, and the irritation of the A
bly, had rendered it inevitable.
Dumounez, from his conduct at the Jacobins and his known ronncxion
with the Gironde, could not, even without any hatred against the l'cuillans,
help embroiling himself with them. Besides, he had displaced them. lie
was, therefore, in continual opposition to all the chiefs of that party.
Braving the sarcasms and the contempt which they levelled against the
ssembly, he determined to pursue his career wiUi his
accustomed assurance.
It was necessary to complete the ministry. Petion, Gensonne, and
»t, were consulted respecting the persons to be selected. According to
the law, the ministers could not be taken eidier from the present or from the
ssembl) : the choice, therefore, was extremely limited. Dumouriez,
proposed for die marine, Lacoste,* who had formerly been employed in that
department, an industrious and experienced man, an obstinate patriot, who
nevertheless was attached to the King, was esteemed by him, and remained
about him longer than all the others. It was further proposed to give die
ministry of justice to young Louvet, who had recently distinguished himself
at the jacobins, and who had won the favour of the Gironde, since he had
so ably supported die opinion of Brissot in favour of war. The envious
pierret caused him to be immediately denounced. Louvet successfully
justified himself; but, as it was not deemed right to take one whose popu-
larity was contested, Duranthon,}: an advocate of Bordeaux, an enlightened,
upright, but weak man, was sent for. The ministry of the finances and
of the interior yet remained to be filled up. The Gironde again proposed
Clavieres,§ who was known by some highly-esteemed works on finance.
The minister appointed to the interior was Roland,|j formerly inspector of
* " Lacoste was a true jack-in-office of the old order of things, of which he had the in-
significant and awkward look, cold manner, and dogmatic tone. He was deficient both in the
extensive views and activity necessary for a minister." — Memoirs of Madame Roland. E.
f " I once conversed," says Madame de Stael, " with Robespierre at my father's house, in
1789. His features were mean, his complexion pale, his veins of a greenish hue." Speaking
of the same demagogue, Dumont observes, " I had twice occasion to converse with Robes-
pierre. He had a sinister expression of countenance, never looked you in the face, and had
a continual and unpleasant winking of the eyes." E.
$ " Duranthon was born at Massedon, in 173G. In December, 1793, he was dragged before
the revolutionary tribunal, and guillotined." — " He was an honest man," says Madame Roland
in her Memoirs, "but very indolent; his manner indicated vanity, and his timid disposition
and pompous prattle made him always appear to me no better than an old woman." E.
§ "Clavieres was bom at Geneva, in 1735, where," says M. Dumont, "he became one of
the popular leaders; shrewd and penetrating, he obtained the credit of being also cunning
and artful ; he was a man of superior intellect ; deaf from his youth, and deprived by this
infirmity of the pleasures of society, he had sought a compensation in study, and formed his
education, by associating politics and moral philosophy with trade. Being denounced by
Robespierre, to avoid the guillotine he stabbed himself in prison, June 9, 1793. His wife
poisoned herself on the following day." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
J "J. M. Roland de la Platiere, born at Villcfranche, near Lyons, of a family distinguished
in the law for its integrity, was the youngest of five brothers, left orphans and without
fortune. In order to avoid entering into the church, like his elder brother, he left home at
the age of nineteen ; went to Rouen, engaged in the direction of the manufactories, dis-
tinguished himself by his love of study, and his taste for commercial subjects, and obtained
the place of inspector-general, first at Amiens, and then at Lyons. He travelled through a
great part of Europe, and during the Revolution sided with the (Jirondins. He mai
efforts, but in vain, to stop the September massacres. In 1793 he signed the order for the
King's execution, and was soon afterwards involved in the fall of his party. He however
232 HISTORY OF THE
manufactories, who had distinguished himself by some excellent publiea
tions on industry and the mechanical arts. This man, with austere manners,
inflexible opinions, and a cold, forbidding look, yielded, without being aware
of it, to the superior ascendency of his wife. Madame Roland was young
and beautiful. Hred in the depths of retirement, and imbued with philo-
sophic and republican ideas, she had conceived notions superior to those
of her sex, and had formed a seven religion out of the then prevailing
principles. Living in the closest friendship with her husband, she lent him
her pen, communicated to him a portion of her own vivacity, infused her
own ardour not only into him but into all the Girondins, who, enthusiasts
for liberty and philosophy, admired her beamy and intelligence, and were
influenced by her opinions, which were in fact their own opinii
The new ministry comprehended abilities great enough for its prosperity :
but it behoved it not to displease Louis XVI., and to keep up its alliance
with the Gironde. It might then prove adequate to its task ; but if blunders
of individuals were to be added to the incompatibility of the parties which
had united, all would be lost — and this was what could not fail to happen
very speedily. Louis XVI., struck by the activity of his ministers, by their
good intentions, and by their talent for business, was for a moment delighted,
especially with their economical reforms ; for he had always been fond of
that kind of improvement which required no sacrifice either of power or
of principle. If he could always have felt the confidence which he did
then, and have separated himself from the hangers-on of the court, he
might easily have reconciled himself to the constitution. This he repeated
with sincerity to the ministers, and succeeded in convincing the two most
difficult, Roland and Clavieres. The persuasion was complete on both
sides. The Gironde, which was republican solely from distrust of the
King, ceased then to be so; and Vergniaud, Gensonne, and Guadet. entered
into correspondence with Louis XVI., which was subsequently one of the
contrived to escape to Rouen, hut, as soon as he heard of his wife's execution, he resolved
not to survive her ; and, having left his asylum in the evening, he went along the road to
Paris, sat down against a tree, anil stabbed himself with a sword that he had brought with
him in a cane. He killed himself so quietly that he did not change his attitude; and the
next day the people who passed by thought he was asleep. A paper was found about him
couched in these terms : * Whoever you may be that find me lying here, respect my remains ;
they are those of a man who devoted all his life to being useful, and who died as he lived,
virtuous and honest. Not fear but indignation has made me quit my retreat; when I learned
that my wife had been massacred, I would not remain any longer in a world stained with
crimes.' Roland was of an irascible temper, and deeply versed in the ancient and most of
the modern languages." — Biographic Modernc. E.
* " M. J. Philipon Madame Roland, was born at Paris in 1754. She was the daughter
of a distinguished engraver who had ruined his fortune by dissipation. At nine years old
she made an analysis of Plutarch. In 1780, she married Roland, then inspector of tho
manufactories. In 1792, having appeared at the bar of the National Convention, to give
information concerning a denunciation, she spoke with remarkable grace and dignity, and
was admitted to the honours of the sitting. In 1793, she was condemned to death together
with other of the (tirondins. She went to execution with irony and disdain on her lips ;
and on reaching the Place do la Revolution, she bowed to the statue of liberty, exclaiming,
' 0 Liberty, how many crimes are committed in thy name !' She was thirty-nine years of
age. Without being beautiful, she had a sweet and artless countenance, and elegant figure.
Her large black eyes were full of expression; her voice was musical; and her conversation
peculiarly attractive, Her mind was well stored with knowledge, but she was too much
addicted to satire." — Biographic Mudernc. E.
Condorcet, alluding to Madame Roland's influence over her husband, used to say, " When
I wish to see the minister of the interior, I can never get a glimpse of anything but ttw
petticoats of his wife." — History of the Convention. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION'. 233
charges in the accusation preferred against them. The inflexible wife of
Roland was alone doubtful, and kept back her friends, who were too ready,
as she said, to surrender themselves. The reason of her distrust is natural.
She never saw the King. The ministers, on the other hand, had daily inter-
views with him, and honest men, when they meet, soon feel satisfied with
one another. But this confidence could not last, because inevitable ques-
tions wire on the point of displaying the wide difference of their opinions.
The court strove to throw ridicule on the somewhat republican simplicity
i>t' the new ministry, and on the unpolished rudeness of Roland, who ap-
peared at the palace without buckles to his shoes.* Dumouriez returned
these sarcasms, and, mingling mirth with the most serious business, pleased
the King, charmed him by his wit, and perhaps, too, suited him better than
the others from the flexibility of his opinions. The Queen, perceiving that
he had more influence over the: mind of the monarch than any of his col-
leagues, was desirous of seeing him. He has recorded in his memoirs this
extraordinary interview, which shows the agitation of that princess, worthy
of another reign, other friends, and another fate.
On being ushered into the Queen's apartment, he found her, he says,
alone, her face much flushed, walking hastily to and fro, with an agitation
which seemed to betoken a warm explanation. He was going to post him-
self at die corner of the fire-place, painfully affected at the state of this
princess, and the terrible sensations from which she was suffering. She
advanced towards him with a majestic air and angry look, and said, ** Sir,
you are all-powerful at this moment, but it is through the favour of the peo-
ple, who soon break their idols in pieces. Your existence depends on your
conduct. It is said that you possess great abilities. You must be aware
that neither the King nor myself can endure all these innovations on the
constitution. This I tell you frankly : choose your side."
".Madam," he replied, "I am deeply pained by the secret which your
majesty has just imparted to me. I will not betray it; but I stand between
the King and the nation, and I belong to my country. Permit me to repre-
sent to you that the welfare of the King, your own, and that of your august
children, is linked with the constitution, as well as the re-establishment of
legitimate authority. I should do you disservice and the King too, if I were
to hold any other language. You are both surrounded by enemies who are
sacrificing you to their private interest. The constitution, when once it
shall be in vigour, so far from bringing misery upon the King, will constitute
his happiness and his glory. It is absolutely necessary that he should con-
cur in establishing it solidly and speedily." The unfortunate Queen, shocked
at this contradiction of her opinions, raising her voice, angrily exclaimed,
" That will not last. Take care of yourself!"
Dumouriez rejoined with modest firmness, "Madam, I am past fifty; my
life has been crossed by many perils, and, in accepting the ministry, I was
thoroughly sensible that responsibility is not the greatest of my dangers." —
" Nothing more was wanting," she cried widi deep chagrin, " but to calum-
niate me. You seem to think me capable of causing you to be murdered,"
and tears trickled from her eyes.
• "The first time that Roland presented himself at the palace, he was dressed with strings
in his shoes, and a round hat. The master of the ceremonies refused to admit hint in such
an unwonted costume, not knowing who he was : being afterwards informed, and in conse-
quence <>l«lu?»'d to do so, he turned to Dumouriez, and said with a sigh, ' Ah, sir, no buckles
in his shoes !' — • All u lost !' replied the minister for foreign affairs with sarcastic irony."—
Alison. E.
vol. I. — 30 v 2
234 HISTORY OF THE
"God preserve me," said Dumouriez, as much agitated as herself, "from
doing you so cruel an injury! The character of your majesty is great and
noble ; you have given heroic proofs of it, which I have admired, and which
have attached me to you." At this moment she became more calm and
drew nearer to him. He continued : "Believe me, madam, I have no inte-
rest in deceiving you. I abhor anarchy and crime as much as you do.
IThis is not a transient popular movement, as you seem to think. It is an
almost unanimous insurrection of a mighty nation against inveterate abuses.
Great factions fan this flame. In all of them there are villains and madmen.
In the Revolution I keep in view only the King and the entire nation ; all
that tends to part them leads to their mutual ruin ; I strive as much as pos-
sible to unite them ; it is for you to assist me. If I am an obstacle to your
designs, if you persist in them, tell me so ; I will instantly send my resig-
nation to the King, and hide myself in some corner, to mourn over the fate
of my country and over your's."
The concluding part of this conversation entirely restored the confidence
of the Queen. They reviewed together the different factions ; he pointed
out to her the blunders and crimes of all ; he proved to her that she was be-
trayed by those about her ; and repeated the language held by persons in
her most intimate confidence. The princess appeared in the end to be
entirely convinced, and dismissed him with a serene and affable look. She
was sincere ; but those around her and the horrible excesses of the papers
written by Marat* and the Jacobins soon drove her back to her baneful
resolutions.
* "J. P. Marat, born in 1744, of Calvinist parents, was not five feet high; his face was
hideous, and his head monstrous for his size. From nature he derived a daring mind, an
ungovernable imagination, a vindictive temper, and a ferocious heart He studied medicine
before he settled in Paris, where he was long in indigence. At last he obtained the situation
of veterinary surgeon to the Count d'Artois. At the period of the Revolution, his natural
enthusiasm rose to delirium, and he set up a journal entitled 'The People's Friend,' in which
he preached up revolt, murder and pillage. In 1790 Lafayette laid siege to his house, but
he found an asylum in that of an actress who was induced by her husband to admit him. In
the different searches made after him, the cellars of his partisans, and the vaults of the Cor-
deliers' church successively gave him shelter, and thence he continued to send forth his jour-
nal. In August Marat became a member of the municipality ; was one of the chief instigators
of the September massacres, and even proposed to Danton to set the prisons on fire. Several
deputies pressed the Assembly to issue a warrant for his arrest, but they could not obtain it,
for Danton and Robespierre were his supporters. On one occasion Marat said to the people,
' Massacre 270,000 partisans of the former order of things !' Soon afterwards he waa made
president of the Jacobin society. Marat was stabbed to the heart, while in the bath, by
Charlotte Corday. He had some talent ; wrote and spoke with facility, in a dilfuse, incohe-
rent, but bold and impassioned manner. After his death, honours almost divine were paid
him ; and in the Place du Carrousel a sort of pyramid was raised in celebration of him, within
which were placed his bust, his bathing-tub, his writing-desk, and lamp ; and a sentinel was
posted there, who one night died either of cold or horror. Eventually, however, France
indignantly broke his bust, tore his remains from the Pantheon, and dragged them through
the mud." — Biogruphie Moderne. E.
The following description of Marat is full of graphic energy : " Marat's political exhorta-
tions began and ended like the howl of a bloodhound for murder. If a wolf could have
written a journal, the gaunt and famished wretch could not have ravened more eagerly for
slaughter. It was blood which was Marat's constant demand ; not in drops from the breast
of an individual, not in puny streams from the slaughter of families ; but blood in the profusion
of an ocean. We are inclined to believe that there was a touch of insanity in this unnatural
ferocity ; and the wild and squalid features of the wretch appear to have intimated a degree
of alienation of mind. Danton murdered to glut his rage ; Robespierre, to avenge his injured
vanity, or to remove a rival whom he hated ; Mnrat, from the same instinctive love of Mood
which induces a wolf to continue his ravages of the flocks long after his hunger is appeased.''
— Sir Walter Scott. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 235
On another occasion she said to Dumouriez, in the presence of the King,
44 You see me very sad. I dare not approach the window which looks into
the garden. Yesterday evening, I went to the window towards the court
just to take a little air; a gunner of the guard addressed iiu: in terms of
vulgar abuse, adding, 4 How I should like to see your head on the p> -
my bayonet !' In this horrid garden you see on one side a man mounted on
a chair, reading aloud the most abominable calumnies against us ; on the
other, a military mau or an abbe, dragged through one of the basins, over-
whelmed with abase, and beaten ; whilst others are playing at ball or quietly
walking about. What an abode ! What a people !"*
Thus, by a kind of fatality, the supposed intentions of the palace excited
the distrust and the fury of the people, and the uproar of the people in-
creased the anxiety and the imprudence of the palace. Despair therefore
reigned within and without. But why, it may be asked, did not a candid
" None exercised a more fatal influence upon the period in which he lived than Marat.
He depraved the morals of the existing parties, already sufficiently lax ; and to him were
owing the two ideas which the committee of public safety realized at a later period — the ex-
termination of multitudes, and the dictatorship." — Mignet. E.
•• A woman of Toulouse, who was desirous of obtaining the liberty of a relation, resolved
on soliciting Marat. On going to his house, she was informed that he was absent, but he
heard the voice of a female, and came out himself. He wore boots, but no stockings, a pair
of old leather breeches, white silk waistcoat, and a dirty shirt, the bosom of which was open,
and showed his yellow chest Long dirty nails, skinny fingers, and a hideous face, suited
exactly this whimsical dress. He took the lady's hand, and, leading her into a very pleasant
room, furnished with blue and white damask, decorated with silk curtains, elegantly drawn
up in festoons, and adorned with china vases full of natural flowers, which were then scarce
and dear, Marat sat down beside her on a luxurious couch, heard the recital she had to make
him, became interested in her, kissed her hand, and promised to set her cousin free. In con-
sequence he was liberated from prison within twenty-four hours." — Madame Roland's Me-
moirs. E.
" Give me," said Marat, " two hundred Neapolitans, the knife in their right hand, in their
left a muff, to serve for a target, and with these I will traverse France and complete the
Revolution. He also made an exact calculation, showing in what manner 260,000 men
might be put to death in one day." — Barbaroux's Memoirs. E.
* Dumouriez'* Memoiri, book hi., chap. 6.
Madame Campan gives a different account of the conversation with Dumouriez :
"All the parties," says she, " were bestirring themselves either to ruin the King or to save
him. One day, I found the Queen in extreme agitation; she told me that she knew not
what to do ; that the leaders of the Jacobins had offered themselves to her through Du-
mouriez, or that Dumouriez, forsaking the party of the Jacobins, had come and offered him-
self to her; that she had given him an audience; that, being alone with her, he had thrown
himself at her feet, and told her that he had put on the red cap, and even pulled it down
oM-r his ears, but that he neither was, nor ever could be, a Jacobin; that the Revolution
had been suffered to roll on to that mob of disorganizes, who, aspiring only to pillage, were
capable of everything, and had it in their power to furnish the Assembly with a formidable
army, ready to sap the remains of a throne already too much shaken. While speaking with
extreme warmth, he had taken hold of the Queen's hand, and kissed it with transport, saying,
' Allow yourself to be saved.' The Queen told me that it was impossible to believe the
protestations of a traitor ; that all his conduct was so well known, that the wisest plan
indisputably was not to trust him ; and, besides, the princes earnestly recommended that no
confidence should be placed in any proposal from the interior." — Tome ii., p. 202.
The account of that conversation here differs, as the reader may perceive, in some re-
spects: yet the groundwork is the same. In passing through the lips of the Queen and
those of Madame Campan, it could not fail to acquire a colouring rather unfavourable to
Dumouriez. The narrative of Dumouriez describes, in a much more probable manner, the
agitations of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette; and, as it contains nothing injurious to that
princess, or that does not correspond with her character, I have preferred it. It is possible,
however, that the presumption of Dumouriez may have caused nim to record in preference
the particulars most flattering to himself.
236 HISTORY OF THE
explanation put an end to so many evils ? Why did not the palace com-
prehend the fears of the people ? Why did not the people comprehend the
afflictions of the palace ? But, why are men men ? At this last question
we must pause, submissively resign ourselves to human nature, anil pursue
Inir melancholy story.
Leopold II. was dead. The pacific dispositions of that prince were to be
regretted for the tranquillity of Europe, and the same moderation could not
be hoped for from his successor and nephew, the King of Bohemia and
Hungary. Gustavus, King of Sweden, had just been assassinated during
an entertainment.* The enemies of the Jacobins attributed this murder to
them ; but it was fully proved to be the crime of the nobility, humbled by
Gustavus in the last Swedish Revolution. Thus the nubility, who in France
cried out against the revolutionary fury of the people, gave in the north an
example of what it had formerly been itself, and of what it still was in
countries where civilization was least advanced. What an example for
Louis XVI., and what a lesson, if at the moment he could have compre-
hended it ! The death of Gustavus thwarted the enterprise which he had
meditated against France — an enterprise for which Catherine was to furnish
soldiers and Spain subsidies. It is doubtful, however, if the perfidious
Catherine would have performed her promise, and the death of Gustavus,
from which most important consequences were anticipated, was in reality a
very insignificant event.t
Delessart had been impeached on account of the feeble tone of his
despatches. It was not consonant either with the disposition or the interest
of Dumouriez to treat feebly with the powers. The last despatches appeared
to satisfy Louis XVI. on account of their aptness and their firmness. M.
de Noailles, ambassador at Vienna, and by no means a sincere servant, sent
his resignation to Dumouriez, saying that he had no hope of making the
head of the empire listen to the language that had just been dictated to him.
Dumouriez lost no time in communicating the circumstance to the Assem-
bly, which, indignant at this resignation, immediately passed a decree of
accusation against M. de Noadles. A new ambassador was instantly sent
with fresh despatches. Two days afterwards, Noailles recalled his resigna-
tion, and sent the categorical answer which he had required from the court
of Vienna.
Among all the faults committed by the powers, this note of M. de Co-
bentzel's is one of the most impolitic. M. de Cobentzel insisted, in the
name of his court, on the re-establishment of the French monarchy on the
basis fixed by the royal declaration of the 23d of June, 1789. This wa*
equivalent to requiring the re-establishment of the three orders, the restitu-
tion of the property of the clergy, and that of the Comtat-Venaissin to the
* " Gustavus III., King of Sweden, was born in 1746, and assassinated by Ankarstrom at a
masked ball at Stockholm on the night of March 15, 1792." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
f Bouille, whose Memoirs I have already quoted, and whose situation enabled him to form
a correct judgment of the real intentions of the powers, utterly disbelieved both the zeal and
the sincerity of Catherine. On this subject he expresses himself as follows :
" It is obvious that this prince (Gustavus) relied much on the dispositions of the Empress
of Russia, and on the active part which she was to take in the confederacy, and which was
confined to demonstrations. The King of Sweden was deceived ; and I doubt whether
Catherine would ever have entrusted him with the eighteen thousand Russians she had pro-
mised. I am persuaded, moreover, that the Emperor and the King of Prussia had not com-
municated to him either their views or their plans. They had both of them personally more
than a dislike for him, and they were desirous that he should not take any active part in the
affairs of France." — Bouille, p. 319. •
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 237
Pope. The Austrian minister moreover demanded the restoration of the
domains in Alsace, with all their feudal rights, to the princes of the empire
In order to propose such conditions, a man must have known nothing of
France unless through the medium of the passions of Coblentz. It was
demanding at once the destruction of a constitution sworn to by the King
anil the nation, and the repeal of a decisive determination in regard to
n. Lastly, it was imposing the necessity of bankruptcy by tin-
ion of the possessions of the eiergy already sold. Besides, what
ri<rht hail tin- emperor to claim such a submission? What right had he to
re in our affairs ? What complaint had he to make for the princes
of Alsace, since their domains were enclosed by the French territory^ and
must of course submit to the same laws as that?
The first movement of the King and Duniouriez was to hasten to the
Assembly and to communicate to it this note. The Assembly was indignant.
and justly so. The cry for war was universal. But Duniouriez did not
inform the Assembly that Austria, which he had threatened with a fresh
revolution at Liege, had sent an agent to treat with him on that subject;
that the language of this agent was totally different from that held at this
moment by the Austrian ministry ; and that this note was evidently the
effect of a sudden and suggested revolution. The Assembly annulled the
decree of accusation passed against Noailles, and demanded a speedy report.
The King could no longer recede. That fatal war was at length on the
point of being declared. In no case could it be favourable to his interests.
If victorious, the French would become more urgent and more inexorable
relative to the observance of the new law. If vanquished, they would find
fault with the government and accuse it of having feebly carried on the war.
Louis XVI. was perfectly aware of this double danger, and this resolution
was one of those which were most painful to him.* Dumouriez drew up
* Madame Campan acquaints us, in one and the same passage, with the construction of
the iron chest and the existence of a secret protest made by the King against the declaration
of war. This apprehension of the King for the war was extraordinary, and he strove in
all possible ways to throw it upon the popular party.
" The King had a prodigious quantity of papers, and unluckily conceived the idea of
ha\ing a closet made very secretly in an inner corridor of his apartments, by a locksmith
whom he had kept at work about him for more than ten years. But for the denunciation
of this man, that closet might have long remained unknown. The wall, just at the place
where it was made, was painted to look like large stones, and the opening was completely
masked in the brown grooves formed by the 'shaded part of these painted stones. But, before
this locksmith had denounced to the Assembly what has since been called the Iron Chest,
the Queen knew that he had talked of it to some of his friends, and that this man, in
whom the King, from habit, placed too great confidence, was a Jacobin. She apprized the
King of this, and prevailed upon him to fill a very large portfolio with such papers as he
-t anxious to preserve and to commit it to my care. She begged him in my presence
leave anything in that closet; and the King, to quiet her, replied that he had left
nothing there. I would have taken up the portfolio for the purpose of carrying it to my
apartments : it was too heavy for me to lift. The King told me that he would carry it him-
self: I went before to open the doors for him. When he had laid down this portfolio in my
inner cabinet, he merely said, ■ The Queen will tell you what that contains.' On returning
to the Queen, I asked, supposing from the intimation of the King, that it was necessary for
me t» know. * They are papers,' replied the Queen, ' which would be most fatal to the King,
it they were to go so far as to bring him to trial. But what he certainly means me to tell
ilmt in this portfolio there is the report of a council of stale, in which the King gave
his opinion against the war He made all the ministers sign it, and in case of a trial, he
id that this paper would be extremely serviceable to him.' I asked the Queen to
whose care she thought I ought to commit this portfolio ! ' Put it in the caro of any one
you please,' replied khe ; ' you alone are responsible for it. Do not leave the palace, even in
238 HISTORY OF THE
his report with his usual celerity, and carried it to the King, who kept it
three days. It became a question whether the King, obliged to take the
initiative with the Assembly, would urge it to declare war, or whether he
would content himself with consulting it on this subject, in announcing that,
agreeably to the injunctions given, France was in a state of war. The
ministers Roland and Clavieres were in favour of the former procedure.
The orators of the Gironde likewise supported it, and were for dictating
the speech from the throne. Louis XVI. felt repugnance to declare war, and
preferred declaring the country in a state of war. The difference was un-
important, yet to his mind the one was preferable to the other. Dumouriez,
whose mind was more easily made up, listened to none of the ministers ;
and, supported by Degraves, Lacoste, and Duranthon, caused the Kit
opinion to be adopted. This was his first quarrel with the Gironde. The
King composed his speech himself, and repaired in person to the Assembly,
followed by all his ministers. A considerable concourse of spectators added
to the effect of this sitting, which was about to decide the fate of France
and of Europe. The King's features appeared careworn and indicated deep
thought. Dumouriez read a detailed report of the negotiations of France
with the Empire; he showed that the treaty of 1756 was de facto broken,
and that, according to the last ultimatum, France was in a staff of war.
He added that the King, having no other legal medium for consulting the
Assembly but the formal proposal of war, submitted to consult it in that
manner. Louis XVI. then spoke with dignity but with a faltering voice.*
" Gentlemen," said he, " you have just heard the result of the negotiations
in which I have been engaged with the court of Vienna. The conclusions
of the report have been unanimously approved by my council : I have my-
self adopted them. They are conformable with the wish winch the National
Assembly had several times expressed, and with the sentiments communi-
cated to me by a great number of citizens in different parts of the- kingdom :
all would rather have war than see the dignity of the French people anv
longer insulted, and the national security threatened.
H Having previously, as it was my duty, employed all possible means to
maintain peace, I now come, agreeably to the terms of the constitution, to
propose to the National Assembly war against the King of Hungary and
Bohemia."
This proposal was most warmly received: shouts of " Vive It Roi!" re-
sounded on all sides. The Assembly answered that it would deliberate, and
that the King should be apprized by a message of the result of the delibera-
tion. A most stormy discussion immediately commenced, and continued
till the night was far advanced. The reasons already given pro and con
were here repeated ; the decree was at length passed, ami war resolved upon
by a great majority.
"Considering," said the Assembly, "that the court of Vienna, in con-
your months of rest: there are circumstances under which it may be of the utmost im-
portance to be able to find it at the very moment when it is wanted." — Madame Campari,
tome ii., p. 222.
* " I was present at the sitting in which Louis was forced to a measure which was neces-
sarily painful to him for many reasons. His features were not expressive of his thoughts,
but it was not from dissimulation that he concealed them ; a mixture of resignation and
dignity repressed in him every outward sign of his sentiments. On entering the Assembly,
he looked to the right and left, with that kind of vacant curiosity which is not unusual with
persons who are so shortsighted tint thrir eyes seem to lx> of no use to them. He proposed
war in the same tone of voice as he might have used in rc<ruiring the most indifferent decree
possible." — Madame de Staffs Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 239
tempt of treaties, has not ceased to grant open protection to French n
that it has provoked and formed a concert with several powers of Europe
against the independence and the safety of the French nation ;
"That Francis I., King of Hungary and Bohemia,* has by his notes of
the 18th of March and the 7th of April last, refused to renounce thi.-, eon-
" That, notwithstanding the proposal made to him by the note of the 1 1th
of March, 175)2, to reduce the troops upon the frontiers, on both sides, to
the peace establishment, he has continued and augmented his hostile prepa-
rations ;
" That he has formally attacked the sovereignty of the French nation, by
declaring his determination to support the pretensions of die German princes
holding possessions in France, to whom the French nation has not ceased
to offer indemnities ;
" That he has sought to divide the French citizens and to arm them, one
against the other, by offering to support the malcontents in concert with the
other powers ;
" Considering, lastly, that the refusal to answer the last despatches of the
King of the French leaves no hope of obtaining an amicable redress of these
various grievances by means of an amicable negotiation, and is equivalent to
a declaration of war, the Assembly declares that it is compelled, &c, &c."
It must be admitted that this cruel war, which for so long a period afflicted
Europe, was not provoked by France but by the foreign powers. France,
in declaring it, did no more than recognise by a decree the state in which
she had been placed. Condorcet was directed to draw up an exposition
of the motives of the nation. History ought to preserve this paper, an
admirable model of reasoning and moderation.t
* Francis I. was not yet elected emperor.
f Exposition of the Motives which determined the National Assembly to decree, on the
formal proposal of the King, that there is reason to declare war against the King of
Hungary and Bohemia. By M. Condercet.
(Sitting of April 20, 1792.)
Forced by the most imperative necessity to consent to war, the National Assembly is well
aware that it shall be accused of having wilfully accelerated or provoked it.
It knows that the insidious conduct of the court of Vienna has had no other object than to
give a shadow of plausibility to this imputation, which is needed by the foreign powers to
conceal from their people the real motives of the unjust attack prepared against France : it
knows that this reproach will be repeated by the domestic enemies of our constitution and
our laws, in the criminal hope of robbing the representatives of the nation of the good-will
of the public.
A simple exposition of their conduct is their only reply, and they address it with equal
confidence to foreigners and to Frenchmen, since Nature has placed the sentiments of the
same justice in the hearts of all mankind.
Each nation has alone the power of giving laws to itself, and the inalienable right of chang-
ing them. This right either belongs to none, or it belongs to all in perfect equality : to
attack it in one is to declare that it is not recognised in any other ; to attempt to wrest it by
force from a foreign nation is proclaiming that a person respects it only in that of which he
is a citizen or the chief; it is betraying his country ; it is proclaiming himself an enemy of
the human race. The French nation could not but conceive that truths so simple would be
felt by all princes, and that, in the eighteenth century, no one would dare to oppose to them
the old maxims of tyranny: its hope has been disappointed; a league has been formed
against its independence, and it has had no other choice left but to enlighten its enemies
ing the justice of its cause, or to oppose to them the force of arms.
Informed of this threatening league, but anxious to preserve peace, the National Assembly
at first inquired what was the object of this concert between powers which bad so long been
rivals, and it received for answer that its motive was the maintenance of the general tranquil-
240 HISTORY OF THE ,
The war occasioned general joy. The patriots beheld in it the end of
those apprehensions which they felt on account of the emigration and the
lity, the safety and honour of crowns, the fear of witnessing the recurrence of the events
which some of the epochs of the French Revolution have presented.
But how should France threaten the general tranquillity, since she has taken the solemn
resolution not to attempt any conquest, not to attack the liberty of any nation ; since, amidst
that long and sanguinary struggle which has arisen in the territory of the Liege, in the
Netherlands, between the government and the citizens, it has maintained the strictest neu-
trality 1
It is true that the French nation has loudly declared that the sovereignty belongs exclu-
sively to the people, which, limited in the exercise of its supreme will by the rights of pos-
terity, cannot delegate irrevocable power ; it is true that it has loudly acknowledged that no
usage, no express law, no consent, no convention, can subject a society of men to an authority
which they would not have the right of resuming : but what idea would princes form of the
legitimacy of their power, or of the justice with which they exercise it, if they were to
consider the enunciation of these maxims as an enterprise against the tranquillity of their
dominions ?
Will they allege that this tranquillity might be disturbed by the writings, by the speeches,
of a few Frenchmen ? This, then, would be requiring, by main force, a law against the
liberty of the press ; it would be declaring war against the progress of reason ; and when it is
known that the French nation has everywhere been insulted with impunity, that the presses
of the neighbouring countries have never ceased inundating our departments with works
designed to stir up treason, to excite rebellion ; when it is recollected what marks of patronage
and interest have been lavished on the authors, will any one believe that a sincere love of
peace, and not hatred of liberty, has dictated these hypocritical reproaches!
Much has been said of attempts made by the French to rouse the neighbouring nations
to break their fetters, to claim their rights. But the very ministers who have repeated these
imputations, without daring to adduce a single fact in support of them, well knew how
chimerical they were ; and had even these attempts been real, the powers which have allowed
assemblages of our emigrants, which have given them assistance, which have received their
ambassadors, which have publicly admitted them into their conferences, which are not
ashamed to incite Frenchmen to civil war, would have retained no right of complaining ;
otherwise it must be admitted that it is allowable to extend slavery, and criminal to propa-
gate liberty; that every thing is lawful against nations; that kings alone possess genuine
rights. Never would the pride of the throne have more audaciously insulted the majesty of
nations !
The French people, at liberty to fix the form of its constitution, could not, by making use
of this power, endanger the safety or the honour of foreign crowns. Would then, the chiefs
of other countries class among their prerogatives the right of obliging the French nation to
confer on the head of its government a power equal to that which they themselves exercise
in their dominions? Would they, because they have subjects, forbid the existence elsewhere
of freemen T Can they help perceiving that, in permitting every thing for what they term
the safety of crowns, they declare legitimate whatever a nation can undertake in favour of
the liberty of other nations!
If acts of violence, if crimes, have accompanied some of the epochs of the French Revolu-
tion, to the depositories of the national will alone belonged the |>ower of punishing or bury-
ing them in oblivion: every citizen, every magistrate, be his title what it may, ought not to
demand justice but of the laws of his country— ought not to expect it but from them.
Foreign powers, so long as their subjects have not suffered from these events, cannot have a
just motive cither for complaining of them, or for taking hostile measures to prevent their
recurrence. Kindred, personal alliances between kings, are nothing to the nations : whether
enslaved or free, common interests unite them : Nature has placed their happiness in peace,
in the mutual aids of a kindly fraternity ; she would be indignant if one would dare to put
in the same balance the fate of twenty millions of men and the amnions or the pride of a
few individuals. Are we then doomed still to behold the voluntary servitude of nation*
encircling the altars of the false gods of the earth with human victims ?
Thus these alleged motives of a league against France were but a fresh outrage against
her independence. She had a right to require a renunciation of the injurious preparation*,
and to consider a refusal as an act of hostility : such have been the principles that have
guided the conduct of the National Assembly. It has continued t.« desire peace; but i'
could not help preferring war to a patience dangerous for liberty ; it could not help per-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 241
wavering conduct of the King. The moderates, alarmed by divisions,
hoped that the common danger would put an end to them, and that tin* fields
criving that changes in the constitution, that violation of the equality which is the basis of
it, were the sole aim of thp enemies of France; that they wished to punish her for having
recognised in their full extent the rights common to all mankind ; and then it took that oath,
repeated by all Frenchmen, to perish rather than suffer the slightest attack either upon the
liberty of the citizens, or upon the sovereignty of the people; or, above all, upon that
equality without which there exists for societies neither justice, nor happiness. *fl^«aafe»/i
Would they reproach the French with not having sufficiently respected the rights of other
nations, in offering only pecuniary indemnities either to the German princes holding pos-
sessions in Alsace, or to the Pope 1
Treaties had acknowledged the sovereignty of France over Alsace, and it had been
peaceably exercised there for upwards of a century. The rights which these treaties had
reserved were but privileges ; the meaning of this reserve therefore was, that the possessors
of fiefs in Alsace should retain them, with their old prerogatives, so long as the general laws
of France admitted of the different forms of feudalism ; that reserve signified also that, if the
feudal prerogatives were involved in one general ruin, the nation ought to indemnify the
possessors for the real advantages resulting from it : for this is all that the right of property
can demand, when it happens to be in opposition to the law, in contradiction to the public
interest. The citizens of Alsace are Frenchmen, and the nation cannot without disgrace and
without injustice sutfer them to be deprived of the smallest portion of the rights common to
all those whom this name ought alike to protect. Shall it be urged that, in order to indem-
nify these princes, we can relinquish to them a portion of our territory ? No : a generous
and free nation does not sell men ; it does not doom to slavery ; it does not give up to mas-
ters, those whom it has once admitted to share its liberty.
The citizens of the Comtats had a right to give themselves a constitution ; they might have
declared themselves independent; they preferred being Frenchmen, and after adopting,
France will not forsake them. Had she refused to accede to their desire, their country is
encompassed by her territory, and she could not have permitted their oppressors to pass through
a land of liberty in order to punish men for having dared to make themselves independent
and to resume their rights. What the Pope possessed in this country was the salary of the
functions of the government; the people, in taking from him these functions, have exercised
a power which long servitude had suspended, but of which it could not deprive them ; and
the indemnity offered by France was not even required by justice.
Thus it is ngain violations of the right of nature that they dare to demand in the name of
the Pope and the possessors of fiefs in Alsace! It is again for the pretensions of a few
individuals that they would spill the blood of nations! And if the ministers of the house of
Austria had resolved to declare war against reason in the name of prejudices, against nations
in the name of kings, they could not have held any other language.
It has been asserted that the vow of the French people for the maintenance of its equality
and its independence was the vow of a faction. But the French nation has a constitution;
that constitution has been recognised, adopted by the generality of the citizens ; it cannot be
changed but by the desire of the people, and according to the forms which it has itself pre-
scribed : whilst it subsists the powers established by it have alone the rightof manifesting the
national will, and it is by them that this will has been declared to the foreign powers. It
was the King who, on the application of the National Assembly, and exercising the functions
which the constitution confers on him, complained of the protection granted to the emigrants,
and insisted to no purpose that it should be withdrawn ; it was he who solicited explana-
tions concerning the league formed against France ; it was he who required that this league
should be dissolved ; and assuredly we have a right to be surprised to hear the solemn wish
of the people, publicly expressed by its lawful representatives, proclaimed as the cry of a few
factious men. What title equally respectable could then those kings invoke, who force
misled nations to fight against the interests of their own liberty, and to take arms against
rights which are also their own, to stifle beneath the ruins of the French constitution the
germs of their own felicity and the general hopes of mankind!
And, l<esides, what sort of a faction is it that could bo accused of having conspired the
universal liberty of mankind 1 It is then the entire human race that enslaved ministers dare
to brand with this odious name.
But, say they, the King of the French is not free. What! is to be dependent on the
laws of one's country not to be free. The liberty of thwarting them, of withdrawing oueself
from them, of opposing to them • foreign force, would not be a right, but a crime.
VOL. I. — II X
242 HISTORY OF THE
of battle would absorb all tbe turbulent spirits generated by the Revolution.
Some Feuillans alone, glad to find faults m the Assembly, reproached it
with having violated the constitution, according to which, France ought
never to be in a state of aggression. It is but too evident that here France
was not the assailant. Thus, war was the general wish of all excepting
(he King and a few discontented persons.
Lafayette prepared to serve his country bravely in this new career. It
was be who was more particularly charged with the execution of the plan
conceived by Dumouriez and apparently ordered by Degraves. Dumouriez
had justly flattered himself, and given all the patriots reason to hope,
that the invasion of the Netherlands would be an easy task. That country,
recently agitated by a revolution, which Austria had suppressed, might
naturally be expected to be disposed to rise on the first appearance of the
Thus, in rejecting all these insidious propositions, in despising these indecent declamations,
the National Assembly had shown itself, in all the foreign relations, equally friendly to
peace, and jealous of the liberty of the people ; thus the continuance of a hostile tolerance
for the emigrants, the open violation of the promises to disperse their assemblages, the
refusal to renounce a line evidently offensive, the injurious motives of this refusal, which
indicated a desire to destroy the French constitution, were sufficient to authorize hostilities,
which would never have been any other than acts of lawful defence ; for it is not attacking,
not to give our enemy time to exhaust our resources in long preparations, to spread all his
snares, to collect all his forces, to strengthen his first alliances, to seek fresh ones, to form
connexions in the midst of us, to multiply plots and conspiracies in our provinces. Does he
deserve the name of aggressor, who, when threatened, provoked, by an unjust and perfidious
foe, deprives him of the advantage of striking the first blows! Thus, so far from seeking
war, the National Assembly has done every thing to prevent it In demanding new
explanations respecting intentions which could not.be doubtful, it has shown that it renounced
with pain the hope of a return to justice, and that, if the pride of kings is prodigal of the
blood of their subjects, the humanity of the representatives of a free nation is sparing even
of the blood of its enemies. Insensible to all provocations, to all insults, to the contempt
of old engagements, to violations of new promises, to the shameful dissimulation of the plots
hatched against- France, to that perfidious condescension under which were disguised the
succours, the encouragements, lavished on the French who have betrayed their country, it
would still have accepted peace, if that which was offered had been compatible with the
maintenance of the constitution, with the independence of the national sovereignty, with the
safety of the state.
But the veil which concealed the intentions of our enemy is at length torn. Citizens,
which of you could, in fact, subscribe to these ignominious proposals ? Feudal servitude,
and an humiliating inequality, bankruptcy, and taxes which you alone would pay, tithes and
the inquisition, your possessions bought upon the public faith restored to their former
usurpers, the beasts of the chase re-established in the right of ravaging your fields, your blood
profusely spilt for the ambitious projects of a hostile house, — such are the conditions of the
treaty between the King of Hungary and perfidious Frenchmen f
Such is the peace which is offered to you ! No ; never will you accept it. The cowards
are at Coblentz, and France no longer harbours in her bosom any but men worthy of
liberty.
He proclaims in his own ratne, in the name of his allies, the plan of requiring of the
French nation the relinquishment of its rights ; he declares that he shall demand of it sarri-
firrs which nothing but the fear of destruction could wring from it. Lot him; but never
will it submit to them. This insulting pride, so far from intimidating it, will only rouse its
courage. It takes time to discipline the slaves of despotism, but every man is a soldier when
he combats tyranny ; money will start forth from its dark retreats at the cry of the country
in danger; those ambitious wretches, those slaves of corruption and intrigue, those base
calumniators of the people, from whom our ftps dared promise themselves ignomin;
succours, will lose the support of the blind or pusillanimous citizens whom they had deluded
by their hypocritical declamations; and the French empire, throughout its wide extent, will
display to our enemies but one universal determination to conquer or utteily perish with the
constitution and the laws.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 243
French, and then would bo fulfilled the warning of the Assembly to the
sovereigns — " If you send us war, we will send you back liberty." It was,
moreover, the execution of the plan conceived by Dumouriez, which con-
sisted in extending the French territory to its natural frontiers.
Rochambeau commanded the army close to the scene of action, but he
could not be charged with this operation on account of his peevish and dis-
contented disposition, and more especially because he was less fitted than
Lafayette for an invasion half military, half popular. It was wished that
■tte might have the general command, but Dumouriez refused to com-
ply, no doubt from ill-will. He alleged, as a reason, that it was impossible,
in the presence of a marshal, to give the chief command of that expedition
to a mere general. He said, moreover, and this reason was not quite so
bad, that Lafayette was suspected by the Jacobins and by the Assembly. It
is certain that, young, active, the only one of all the generals who was be-
loved by his army, Lafayette was a terror to overheated imaginations, and
furnished occasion, by his influence, to the calumnies of the malignant. Be
this as it may, he cheerfully offered to execute the plan of the ministry, at
once diplomatic and military : he demanded fifty thousand men, with whom
he proposed to push forward by Namur and the Meuse to Liege, the posses-
sion of which would make him master of the Netherlands.
This plan was judicious, and it was approved by Dumouriez. War had
been declared only a few days. Austria had not time to cover her posses-
sions in the Netherlands, and success appeared certain. Accordingly, La-
fayette was ordered at first to advance with ten thousand men from Givet to
Namur, and from Namur to Liege or Brussels. He was to be followed
immediately by his whole army. While he was executing this movement,
Lieutenant-general Biron was to set out from Valenciennes with ten thou-
sand men, and to march upon Mons. Another officer had orders to proceed
to Tournay, and to take possession of it immediately. These movements,
conducted by officers of Rochambeau's, were intended to support and mask
the real attack committed to Lafayette.
The orders given to this effect were to be executed between the 20th of
April and the 2d of May. Biron commenced his march, left Valenciennes,
made himself master of Quievrain, and found a few hostile detachments
near Mons. All at once, two regiments of dragoons, though not in presence
of the enemy, cried out, " We are betrayed !" betook themselves to flight,
and were followed by the whole army. In vain the officers strove to stop
the fugitives ; they threatened to shoot them, and continued their flight.
The camp was given up, and all the military effects fell into the hands of the
Imperialists.
While this event was occurring at Mons, Theobald Dillon left Lill
cording to a preconcerted plan, with two thousand infantry and a thousand
In the very same hour that Biron's disaster happened, the cavalry,
at the sight of some Austrian troops, gave way, crying out that it was be-
trayed. It hurried the infantry along with it, and again the whole of the
baggage was abandoned to the enemy. Theobald Dillon and an officer of
engineers, named Berthois, were murdered by the soldiers and the populace
of Lille, who insisted that they were traitors.
awhile Lafayette, apprized too late of these circumstances, had pro-
> ceded from Metz to Givet, after encountering extreme difficulties, and by
roads that were scarcely passable. Nothing but the ardour of his troops
enabled him to perform, in so short a time, the considerable distance which
244 HISTORY OF THE
he had traversed. There, learning the disasters of Rochambeau's officers,
he thought it right to halt. ,
This intelligence produced a general agitation. It was natural to suppose
that these two events had been concerted, judging from their coincidence and
their simultaneous occurrence. All the parties accused one another. The
Jacobins and the furious patriots insisted that there was a design to betray
the cause of liberty. Dumouriez, not accusing Lafayette, but suspecting
the Feuillans, conceived that there had been a scheme to thwart his plan, in
order to make him unpopular. Lafayette complained, but less bitterly than
his party, that he had been directed too late to commence his march, and
that he had not been furnished with all the means necessary for accomplish-
ing it. The Feuillans, moreover, reported that Dumouriez had designed
to ruin Rochambeau and Lafayette by chalking out a plan for them, without
giving them the means of executing it. Such an intention was not to be
supposed ; for Dumouriez, in stepping beyond the duty of minister for
foreign affairs in order to form a plau of campaign, incurred a grievous risk
in case of its failure. Besides, the project of gaining Belgium for France
and liberty formed part of a plan which he had long meditated ; how then
could it be imagined that he wished to make it miscarry? It was evident
that in this case neither the minister nor the generals could be insincere,
because they were all interested in succeeding. But parties always put per-
sons in the place of circumstances, that they may throw upon some one the
blame of the disasters which befal them.
Degraves, alarmed at the tumult excited by the recent military events,
determined to resign an office which had long been too arduous for him, and
Dumouriez was wrong in not undertaking it. Louis XVL, still under the
sway of the Gironde, gave that department to Servan, an old soldier, known
for his patriotic opinions.* This choice gave increased strength to the
Gironde, which found itself almost in a majority in the council, having
Servan, Clavieres, and Roland, at its disposal. From that moment, disi
began to prevail among the ministers. The Gironde daily became more
distrustful, and consequently more urgent for demonstrations of sincerity on
the part of Louis XVL Dumouriez, who was but little guided by opinions,
and who was touched by the confidence of the Kino;, always took his part.
Lacoste, who was strongly attached to the prince, did the same. Dnrantlion
was neuter, and had no preference but for the weakest parties. Servan.
Clavieres, and Roland, were inflexible. Filled with the tears of their friends.
they daily showed themselves more impracticable and inexorable at the
council.
Another circumstance completed the rupture between Dumouriez and the
principal members of the Gironde. Dumouriez, on accepting the ministry
for foreign affairs, had demanded six millions for secret services, and insisted
that he should not be called upon to account for the expenditure of that sum.
The Feuillans had opposed this, hut, through the influence of the Gironde,
his demand proved triumphant, and the six millions were granted. Petion
had applied for funds for the police of Paris ; Dumouriez had allowed him
thirty thousand francs per month: but. censing to be a Girondin, he permit-
ted only one payment to be made. On the other hand, it was learnt or sus-
pected that he had just spent one hundred thousand francs upon his pleasures
* "Servan was born at Romano in 1741. and died at Paris in 1808. ' He was' says
Madame Roland, ' an honest man in the fullest signification of the term; an enlightened
patriot, a brave soldier, and an active minister ; he stood in need of nothing but a more sober
imagination, and a more flexible mind.' "—Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 245
Roland, around whom rallied the Gironde, was, with all his friends, highly
indignant at this circumstance. The ministers dined with one another by
turns, lor the purpose ol' conversing on public affairs. When they met at the
house <>t Roland, it was in the presence of his wife and all his friends ; and
we may say that the council was dien held by die Gironde itself. It was at
suell * meeting that remonstrances were made to Dumouriez on the nature
of his secret exj>enses. At first he replied with gaiety and good humour,
tt'terwards lost his temper, and quarrelled decidedly with Roland and the
(.'irondins. lie ceased to attend at these accustomed parties, and alleged as
LBOn that he wotdd not talk, of public affairs either before a woman or
Roland's friends, lie nevertheless went occasionally to Roland's,
but either said very little, or nothing at all, concerning business. Another
—ion widened still further the breach between him and the Girondins.
Guadet, the most petulant of his party, read a letter, proposing that the mi-
nisters should induce the King to choose for his spiritual director a priest
who had taken the oath. Dumouricz maintained that the ministers could
not interfere in the religions exercises of the King. He was supported, it
is true, by Vergniaud and Gensonne ; but the quarrel was not the less vio-
lent, and a rupture became inevitable.
The newspapers commenced the attack upon Dumouriez. The Feuillans,
who were already leagued against him, then found themselves aided by the
ins and the Girondins. Dumouriez, assailed on all sides, firmly con-
fronted the storm, and caused severe measures to be taken against some of
the journalists.
A decree of accusation had already been directed against Marat, author
of the Jlmi du Peuple ; an atrocious work, in which he openly advocated
murder, and heaped the most audacious insults on the royal family, and on
all who were, objects of suspicion to his frenzied imagination. To coun-
terbalance the effect of this measure, a decree of accusation was obtained
against Royou, who was the author of the Ami du Roi, and who inveighed
against the republicans with the same violence that Marat displayed against
the royalists.
For a long time past a great deal had been said concerning an Austrian
committee. The patriots talked of it in the city, as the Orleans faction was
talked of at court. To this committee a secret and mischievous influence
was attributed, whieh was exercised through the medium of the Queen. If
anything resembling an Austrian committee, had existed in the time of the
Constituent Assembly, there was nothing of the kind under the Legislative.
At die former period an illustrious personage, who held an appointment in
the Netherlands, communicated to the Queen, in the name of her family,
some very prudent advice, which was still more prudently commented upon
by the French intermediate agent. But under the Legislative Assembly
these private communications had ceased ; the Queen's family had continued
its correspondence with her, but never omitted to recommend patiegce and
resignation to her. It is true that Uertrand de Molleville and Montmorin
sull paid visits to the palace after their removal from the ministry. It was
st them that all suspicions were directed, and they were, in fact, the
agents of all the secret commissions. They were publicly accused by
. the journalist. Determined to prosecute him as a calumniator, they
summoned him to produce documents in support of his denunciation. The
journalist backed himself by three deputies, and named Chabot. .Merlin, and
Bazire, as the authors of the particulars which he had published. Lariviere,
justice of die peace, who was devoted to the cause of the King, prosecuted
x2
246 HISTORY OF THE
this affair with great courage, and had the boldness to issue a summons
against the three above-mentioned deputies. The Assembly, indignant at this
attack on the inviolability of its members, replied to the justice of peace by
a decree of accusation, and sent the unfortunate Lariviere to Orleans.*
•^This unlucky attempt served only to increase the general agitation, and
the hatred which prevailed against the court. The Gironde no longer con-
sidered itself as guiding Louis XVI., since Dumouriez had established his
influence over him, and it had resumed its part of violent opposition. . ,
The new constitutional guard of the King had been recently formed.
Agreeably to the law, the civil establishment ought also to have been com-
posed; but the nobility would not enter into it, that they might not recog-
nise the constitution by filling posts which it had created. On the other
hand, there was a determination not to compose it of new men, and it was
abandoned. "How will you, madam," wrote Barnave to the Queen, "con-
tinue to raise the least doubt in those people concerning your sentiments ?
When they decree you a military and a civil establishment, like young
Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes, you eagerly grasp the sword
and put away mere ornaments. "t The ministers, and Bertrand himself,
remonstrated on their part to the same purpose as Barnave, but they could
not carry their point, and the composition of the civil establishment was
abandoned.
The military establishment, formed agreeably to a plan proposed by De-
lessart, had been composed, one-third of troops of the line, and two-thirds
of young citizens selected from the national guards. This composition
could not but appear satisfactory. But the officers and the soldiers of the line
had been chosen in such a manner as to alarm the patriots. Combined
against the young men taken from the national guards, they had rendered
the situation of the latter so disagreeable, that most of them had been obliged
to retire. The vacancies had soon been filled up by trusty men ; the num-
ber of this guard had been singularly increased; and, instead of eighteen
hundred men, fixed by the law, the number had been swelled, it is said, to
nearly six thousand. Dumouriez had apprized the King of this circum-
stance, and he always replied that the old Duke de Brissac, who commanded
these troops, could not be regarded as a conspirator.
Meanwhile, the conduct of the new guard at the palace and at other places
* " For several days past the journalists had lwen endeavouring to raise the people by
violent declamations about plots asserted to be carried on by an Austrian committee. On
the Sunday before, two orators had been taken up in the Palais Royal for haranguing against
this committee, and, on examination, they were found to carry the marks of the whip and
branding iron on their shoulders : patents of their association with the Jacobin club were
found at the same time in their pockets. Possessed of the above facts, I went to confer with
M. de Montmorin, when I was informed that Carra had the day before denounced the Aus-
trian committee in the Jacobin club ; and that both Montmorin and myself were pointed out
as its principal members. On learning this, I carried my complaint before Lariviere, juge de
paix — an intelligent, well-disposed man — who ordered the case to be brought before him,
and witnesses to be heard, after which he issued a decree that Carra should appear before
him. He presented himself accordingly, and declared in his own defence that he had been
authorized by Merlin, Bazire, and Chabot, members of the committee of public safety, to
bring forward the accusation against Messrs. de Montmorin and Bertrand. In, consequence
of this, we jointly gave in our accusation against these three members, who were arrested by
order of Lariviere, a proceeding which drew down on him the wrath of the Assembly ; tho
affair was then sifted to the bottom, and, from that time forward, no journalist or motion-
maker ventured to mention the Austrian committee." — Memoirs of Bertrand de MolU
viik. E.
I Mcmoires de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 1 54.
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
247
mus such, that suspicions were expressed in all quarters, and the clubs took
up the subject. At the same period, twelve Sw iss hoisted the white cockade
at Neuilly ; a considerable quantity of paper was burned at Sevres,* and
these proceedings gave rise to serious suspicions. The alarm then became
general; the Assembly declared itself permanent, as though it was still the
time when thirty thousand men threatened Paris. It is true, however, that
the disturbances were general ; that the nonjuring priests were exciting die
people in the southern provinces, and abusing the secrecy of confession to
kindle fanaticism ; that the concert of the powers was manifest ; that Prus-
sia was on the point of joining Austria ; that the foreign armies became
threatening, and that the recent disasters of Lille and Mons was the general
topic of conversation. It is, moreover, true that the power of the people
excites little confidence, that it is never believed till it has been exercised,
and that an irregular multitude, how numerous soever it may be, cannot
counterbalanee the force of six thousand men, armed and disciplined.
The Assembly therefore lost no time in declaring itself permanent, and it
caused an accurate report to be drawn up respecting the composition of the
King's military establishment, and the number, choice, and conduct of those
who composed it. After deciding that the constitution had been violated, it
* Madame Campan explains in the following manner the secret of the paper burned at
Sevres :
•' In the beginning of 1792, a very worthy priest requested a private interview with me.
He informed me that the arrival of the manuscript of a new libel by Madame Lamotte had
come to his knowledge ; that in the persons who had come from London to get it printed
at Paris he perceived no other incentive but gain, and that they were ready to give up the
manuscript to him for a thousand louis, if he could iind some friend of the Queen disposed
to make that sacrifice to her tranquillity ; that he had thought of me, and that, if her ma- ,
jesty would give bim the twenty-four thousand francs, he would deliver the manuscript to
me on receiving them.
" I communicated this proposal to the Queen, who rejected it, and ordered me to reply
that, at the time when it was possible to punish the publishers of these libels, she had deemed
them so atrocious and so improbable, that she had disdained the means of preventing their
circulation ; that, if she were to be weak and imprudent enough to buy a single one, the
active espionage of the Jacobins would be likely to discover it ; that this libel, though bought
up, would still be printed, and would prove infinitely more mischievous when they should
acquaint the public with the means which she had employed to suppress it.
" Baron d'Aubier, gentleman in waiting on the King, and my particular friend, had an
excellent memory, and a clear and precise manner for transmitting to me the substance of
the deliberations, debates, and decrees of the National Assembly. I went every day to the
Queen's apartments, to make my report on the subject to the King, who said, on seeing ine, ,
' Ah ! here comes the Calais postilion.'
" One day, M. d'Aubier came and said to me, ' The Assembly has been much engaged
with a denunciation made by the workmen in the manufactory of Sevres. They brought
and laid upon the president's desk a bundle of pamphlets, saying that they were the Life of
Marie Antoinette. The director of the manufactory was summoned to the bar, and declared
that he had received orders to burn these pamphlets in the ovens employed for baking the
porcelain.'
" Whilst I was giving this account to the Queen, the King blushed and hung down his
head over his plate. The Queen said, • Do you know anything of this, sir !' The King
made no answer. Madame Elizabeth begged him to explain the meaning of this ; stilt he
kept silence. I quickly withdrew. In a few minutes, the Queen came to me, and told me
that it was the King who, out of tenderness for her, had caused the whole edition printed
from the manuscript which I had offered to her to be bought up, and that M. de Laporte
could not devise any more secret way of annihilating the work than to cause it to be burnt
at Sevres among two hundred workmen, of whom at least one hundred and eighty were
Jacobins. She told me that she had concealed her vexation from the King, who was exceed-
ingly mortified, and that she could not say anything, as his kindness and affection for her
had occasioned this accident." — Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 196.
-^~L I
248 HISTORY OF THE
issued a decree for disbanding the guard, and another of accusation against
the Duke de Brissac, and sent both these decrees fo» the royal sanction.
The King was disposed at first to affix his veto. Dumouriez reminded him
of the dismissal of his life-guards, who had been much lonirer in hi
than his new military household, and exhorted him to make this second and
much less difficult sacrifice. He recapitulated, besides, the positive faults
committed by his guard, and obtained the execution of the decree. But he
immediately insisted on its recomposition ; and the King, either returning
to his former policy of appearing to be oppressed, or relying upon this dis-
banded guard, whose pay he secretly continued, refused to replace it, and
was thus exposed, without protection, to the popular fury.
The Gironde, despairing of the King's sincerity, followed up its attack,
with perseverance. It had already issued a new decree against the priests,
instead of that which the King had refused to sanction. As reports of their
factious conduct were continually arriving, it pronounced the sentence of
banishment upon them. The designation of the culprits was difficult; and
as this measure, like all those of safety, rested upon suspicion, it was accord-
ing to their notoriety that the priests were judged and banished. On the
denunciation of twenty active citizens, and with the approbation of thedi
tory of the district, the directory of the department pronounced sentence.
The condemned priest was obliged to leave the canton in twenty-four hours,
the department in three days, and the kingdom in a month. If he was
indigent, three livres a day were granted him till he reached the frontiers.
This severe law proved the increasing irritation of the Assembly. It was
immediately followed by another. Servan, the minister, without having
received any orders from the King, or consulting his colleagues, proposed
\hat, on the approaching anniversary of the Federation of the 14th of July,
there should be formed a camp of twenty thousand federalists, destined to
protect the Assembly and the capital. It may easily be conceived with
what enthusiasm this plan was hailed by the majority of the Assembly, con-
sisting of Girondins. At this moment the power of the latter was at its
height. They governed the Assembly, where the constitutionalists and the
republicans were in a minority, and where those who called themselves im-
partial were, as at all times, but indifferent persons, ever more complying
the more powerful the majority became. Moreover, they had Paris at their
beck, through Petion, the mayor, who was wholly devoted to them. Their
plan was, by means of the proposed camp, without personal ambition, but
from ambition of party and of opinion, to make themselves masters of the
King, and to forestall his suspicious intentions.
No sooner was Servan's proposal known, than Dumouriez asked him, in
full council, and with the strongest emphasis, in what character he had made
such a proposition. He replied, that it was in the character of a private
individual. "In that case," replied Dumouriez, "you should not put after
the name of Servan the title of minister at war." The dispute became so
warm, that, but for the King's presence, blood would probably have bi
spilt in the council. Servan offered to withdraw his motion : but this would
have been useless, as the Assembly had taken it up; and the Kinr, instead
of gaining anything by it, would have appeared to exercise a violence upon
his minister. Dumouriez, therefore, opposed this; the motion was perse-
vered in, and was combated by a petition signed by eight thousand of the
national guard, who were offended because it seemed to be thought that their
service was insufficient for trie protection of the Assembly. It was n< •
theless carried, and sent to the King. Thus there were two important
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 249
decrees awaiting his sanction, and it was already surmised that the King
would refuse his adhesion to them. In this case, the Assembly was prepared
to pass a definitive resolution against him.
Dumouriez maintained, in full council, that this measure would be fatal to
the throne, but still more so to the Girondins, because the new army would
be formed under the influence of the most violent Jacobins. He neverthe-
liled that it ought to be adopted by the King, because, if he refused to
convoke twenty thousand men regularly chosen, forty thousand would spon-
taneously rise and make themselves masters of the capital. Dumouriez,
moreover, declared Uiat he had an expedient for annulling this measure, and
which he would communicate at the titling time. In like manner, he insisted
that the decree rcmatiriliag the banish ment of the priests ought to be sanc-
tioned, because they were culpable, and besides, exile would withdraw them
from the fury of their enemies. Still Louis XVI. hesitated, and replied that
he would consider farther of it. At the same council, Roland insisted on
reading, in the King's presence, a letter which he had already addressed to
him, and which it was consequently superfluous to communicate to him a
: time vint voce. This letter had been determined upon at the insti-
gation of Madame Roland, and it was her composition. It had been pre-
viously proposed that one should be written in the name of all the ministers.
They had refused ; but Madame Roland continued to urge the point upon her
husband, till he resolved to take the step in his own name. To no purpose
did Duranthon, who was weak but discreet, object with reason that the tone
of his letter, so far from persuading the King, would only sour him against
his ministers, who possessed the public confidence, and that a fatal rupture
between the throne and the popular party would be the result of it. Roland
ted, agreeably to the advice of his wife and his friends. The Gironde,
in fact, was bent on coming to an explanation, and preferred a rupture to
uncertainty.
Roland, therefore, read this letter to the King, and made him listen in full
council to the harshest remonstrances. This famous letter was as follows :
" Sire, — The present state of France cannot last long. It is a state of
crisis, the violence of which has nearly attained the highest degree ; it must
terminate in a catastrophe which cannot but interest your majesty as deeply
concerns the whole empire.
" Honoured by your confidence, and placed in a post which renders truth
an imperative duty, I will venture to tell the whole truth : it is an obligation
which is imposed upon me by yourself.
i; The French have given themselves a constitution, which has made mal-
contents and rebels : nevertheless the majority of the nation is determined
to uphold that constitution. It has sworn to defend it at the price of its
blood, and it has hailed with joy the war which presented a powerful me-
dium for securing it. The minority, however, supported by hopes, has
united all its efforts to gain the advantage. Hence that intestine struggle
against the laws, that anarchy which good citizens deplore, and of which
the malevolent eagerly avail themselves to calumniate the new system.
Hence that division everywhere diffused and everywhere excited, for no-
where does indifference exist. People desire either the triumph, or a
change, of the constitution. They act either to maintain or to alter it. I
shall abstain from examining what it is of itself, in order to consider only
what circumstances require ; and, expressing myself as dispassionately as
le, 1 will seek what we are authorized to expect and what it is right
to favour.
vol. i.— 32
250 HISTORY OF THE
Your majesty possessed great prerogatives, which you considered as per-
taining to royalty. Brought up in the idea of retaining them, you could
not see them taken from you with pleasure. The desire of recovering them
was therefore as natural as regret on seeing them annihilated. These senti-
ment*, inherent in the nature of the human heart, must have entered into
the calculation of the enemies of the Revolution ; they reckoned, therefore,
upon a secret favour, till circumstances should admit of a declared pro-
tection. This disposition could not escape the nation, nor fail to excite its
jealousy.
" Your majesty has therefore been constandy under the alternative of
yielding to your first habits, to your private affections, or of making sacri-
fices dictated by philosophy, and required by necessity ; consequently of
encouraging rebels by alarming the nation, or of appeasing the latter by
uniting yourself with it. Everything has its time, and that of uncertainty
has at length arrived.
" Can your majesty at the present day ally yourself openly with those
who pretend to reform the constitution, or ought you generously to strive
without reserve to render it triumphant? Such is the real question, the
solution of which the present state of affairs renders inevitable. As for that
highly metaphysical one, whether the French are ripe for liberty, its dis-
cussion is not to the purpose here, for it is not the point to judge what we
shall become in a century, but to discover what the present generation is
capable of.
11 Amidst the agitations in which we have been living for four years past,
what has happened ? Privileges burdensome to the people have been
abolished. Ideas of justice and equality have been universally diffused.
The opinion of the rights of the people has justified the feeling of its rights.
The recognition of the latter, solemnly proclaimed, has become a sacred
doctrine ; the hatred, inspired for ages by feudalism, has been exasperated
by the manifest opposition of most of the nobles to the constitution, which
destroys that system.
" During the first year of the Revolution, the people beheld in those
nobles, men odious for the oppressive privileges which they had possessed,
but whom they would have ceased to hate after the suppression of those
privileges, if the conduct of the nobility since that time had not strengthened
every possible reason for dreading it and for combating it as an irrecon-
cilable enemy.
44 Attachment to the constitution has increased in the like proportion. Not
only are the people indebted to it for manifest benefits, but they have judged
that it was preparing for them still greater; since those who were
tomed to make them bear all the burdens were striving so powerfully to
overthrow or to modify it.
M The declaration of rights is become a political gospel, and the French
constitution a religion for which the people are ready to perish.
44 Thus zeal has sometimes proceeded so far as to take the place of the
law ; :uul, when the Latter was not sufficiently restrictive to repress dis-
turbances, the citizens have ventured to punish them themselves.
"Thus it is that the property of emigrants has been exposed to r '.
instigated by revenge. Hence too, so many departments have d<
themselves constrained to pursue severe measures against the priests whom
public opinion had proscribed, and of whom it would have made victims.
44 In this collision of interests, the sentiments of all have taken the tone
of passion. The country is not a word whieh the imagination has delighted
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 251
to embellish. It is a being to which people have made sacrifices, to which
they are becoming daily more and more Strongly attached on account of the
anxieties which it occasions, which they have created with mighty ell'orLs,
which rises from amidst alarms, and which is loved as much for what it has
cost as for what is hoped from it. All the attacks made upon it are l>ut
means of kindling enthusiasm in its behalf. To what a height will this*
enthusiasm attain, at the moment when hostile forces, assembled without,
combine with internal intrigues for the purpose of striking the most fatal
blows! In all parts of the empire, the ferment is extreme; it will burst
forth in a terrible manner, unless a well-founded confidence in the intentions
of your majesty can at length allay it : but this confidence cannot be
established upon protestations ; it can no longer have anything but facts for
its basis.
" It is evident to the French nation that its constitution can go alone, that
the government will have all the strength that is necessary for it, the moment
that your majesty, absolutely bent on the triumph of that constitution, shall
support the legislative body with all the power of the executive, shall re-
move all pretext for the alarm of the people, and take away all hope from
the discontented.
" For example, two important decrees have been passed. Both essen-
tially concern the public tranquillity and the welfare of the state. The delay
in their sanction excites distrust. If it be further prolonged, it will cause
discontent ; and I am obliged to confess that, in the present effervescence
of opinions, discontent may lead to any consequences.
" It is too late to recede, and there are no longer any means of tem-
porizing. The Revolution is accomplished in people's minds. It will be
consummated at the expense of their blood, and cemented with it, if pru-
dence does not prevent the calamities which it is yet possible to avoid.
" I know that it may be imagined that everything may be effected and
everything repressed by extreme measures ; but when force has been em-
ployed to overawe the Assembly, when terror has been spread throughout
Paris, and dissension and stupor in its environs, all France will rise with
indignation, and, tearing herself in pieces amidst the horrors of a civil war,
will develope that stern energy, which is the parent alike of virtues and of
crimes, and is always fatal to those by whom it has been called forth.
" The welfare of the state and the happiness of your majesty are inti-
mately connected. No power is capable of separating them. Cruel pangs
and certain calamities will environ your throne, if it is not placed by your-
self upon the bases of the constitution, and strengthened by the peace
which its maintenance must at length procure us. Thus the state of opinion,
the course of events, motives for any particular line of policy, the interest
of your majesty, render indispensable the obligation of uniting yourself with
the legislative body and responding to the wish of the nation, who make a
necessity of that which principles present as a duty. But the sensibility
natural to this affectionate people is ready to find in that necessity a motive
for gratitude. You have been cruelly deceived, sire, when you have been
filled with aversion or distrust for a people so easily touched. It is by being
kept in perpetual uneasiness that you yourself have been led to a conduct
calculated to alarm. Let them see that you are determined to aid the pro-
of thai constitution to which they have attached their felicity, and you
will soon become the object of their thanksgiving.
"The conduct of the priests in many places, and the pretexts with which
fanaticism furnished the discontented, have caused a wise law to be enacted
«
252 HISTORY OF THE
against the disturbers. Be pleased, sire, to give it your sanction. The
public tranquillity claims it. The safety of die priest solicits it. If this Lw
be not put in force, the departments will be constrained to substitute for it,
as they do in every instance, violent measures, and the incensed people will,
for want of it, have recourse to outran
" The attempts of our enemies, the commotions which have broken out
in the capital, the extreme uneasiness excited by the conduct of your guard,
and which is still kept up by the testimonies of satisfaction which your ma-
jesty has been induced to bestow upon it, in a proclamation tndy impolitic
under existing circumstances, and the situation of Paris, and its proximity
to the frontiers, have caused the want of a camp in its vicinity to be felt.
This measure, the prudence and urgency of which have struck all well-
meaning persons, is still waiting only for your majesty's sanction. Why
should delays be allowed to produce the appearance of reluctance, when
celerity would deserve gratitude ?
" Already have the proceedings of the staff of the national guard of Paris
against this measure, awakened a suspicion that it was acting from superior
instigation. Already are the declamations of certain furious demagogues
raising surmises of their connexion with the parties concerned for the over-
tlirow of the constitution. Already is public opinion compromising the
intentions of your majesty. A little longer delay, and the disappointed peo-
ple will imagine that in their King they behold the friend and accomplice of
the conspirators.
" Gracious Heaven ! hast thou stricken with blindness the powers of the
earth, and are they never to have any counsels but such as shall lead them
to perdition !
" I know that the austere language of truth is seldom relished near the
[throne. I know, too, that it is because it is scarcely ever proclaimed there
Ithat Revolutions are become necessary; and above all, I know that it is my
duty to hold such language to your majesty, not only as a citizen subject to
the laws, but as a minister honoured by your confidence, or clothed with
functions which suppose it; and I know nothing that can prevent me from
performing a duty of which I am conscious.
" It is in the same spirit that I shall repeat my representations to your
majesty on the utility of executing the law which directs that there shall be
a secretary to the council. The mere existence of the law speaks so power-
fully that it would seem that the execution ought to follow without delay ;
but it is of importance to employ all the means of insuring to the delibera-
tions the necessary gravity, discretion, and maturity; ami lor the responsible
ministers there ought to be a medium of recording their opinions. Had such
a medium existed, I should not on this occasion have addressed myself in
writing to your majesty.
" Life is not a consideration with the man who prizes his duties above all
things; but, next to the happiness of having performed them, the highest
satisfaction he can enjoy is that of thinking that he has performed them
faithfully; which is an obligation incumbent on the public man.
" Paris, June 10, 1792, the fourth year of liberty.
"(Signed) Roland."
The King listened to this lecture witii the utmost patience, and withdrew
saying that he would communicate his intentions.
Dumouriez was summoned to die palace. The King and Queen were
together. ♦' Ought we," said they, "to endure any longer the insolence of
these three ministers ?" — " No," replied Dumouriez. " WU1 you undertake
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
to rid us of thorn?" asked the King. "Yes, sire," answered the bold mi-
ut in order to succeed, your majesty must consent to one condi-
tion. I have become unpopular, and I shall make myself still more so, by
three colleagues, the leaders of a powerful party. There is but
i persuading the public that they are not dismissed on account of
their patriotism." — ••What is that?" inquired the King. " It is," replied
Dumouriez, '• to sanction the two decrees;" and he repeated the reasons
which ho had already given in full council. The Queen exclaimed that the
c mdition was too hard : but Dumouriez represented to her that the twenty
ind men were not to he feared ; that the decree did not mention the
where they were to he encamped , that they might he sent to Soissons,
for instance ; that there they might be employed in military exercises, and after-
wards marched oil' by degrees to the mmei, when the want of them began
to he felt. " But then." said the Kin;:, " it is necessary that you should be
minister at war." — •• Notwithstanding the responsibility, I consent to it,"
replied Dumouriez, "hut your majesty must sanction the decree against the
priests. 1 cannot serve you unless at that price. This decree, so far from
being injurious to the ecclesiastics, will place them beyond the reach of the
popular fury. Your majesty could do no oilier than oppose the first decree
of the Constituent Assembly which prescribed the oath ; now you can no
r recede." — "I was wrong then," exclaimed Louis XVI.; "I must
not commit a second fault." The Queen, who did not share the religious
scruples of her husband, joined Dumouriez, and for a moment the King
appeared to comply.
Dumouriez pointed out the new ministers to supply the places of Servan,
Clavieres, and Roland. These were Mourgues for the interior, and Beaulieu
for the finances. The war was consigned to Dumouriez, who, for the mo-
ment, held two departments, till that of foreign affairs should be filled. The
ordinance was immediately issued, and on the 13th, Roland, Clavieres, and
Servan, received their official dismission. Roland, who possessed all the
necessary for executing what the bold spirit of his wife was capable
of conceiving, repaired immediately to the Assembly, and read to it the letter
which he had written to the King, and for which he was dismissed. This
step was certainly allowable when once hostilities were declared ; but, as a
promise had been given to the King to keep the letter secret, it was by no
means generous to read it publicly.
The Assemhly bestowed the greatest applause on Roland's letter, and
ordered it to be printed and sent to the eighty-three departments. It declared
moreover that the three displaced ministers carried with them the confidence
of the nation. It was at this very moment that Dumouriez, nothing daunted,
ventured to appear in the tribune with his new title of minister at war. He
had drawn up in the utmost haste a circumstantial report of the state of the
army, of the faults of the administration and of the Assembly. He did not
spare those whom he knew to he disposed to give him the most unfavourable
reception. The moment he appeared, he was assailed with violent hootings
by the Jacobins. The Feuillant< maintained the most profound silence.
-t gave an account of a slight advantage gained by Lafayette and of the
death of Gouvion, an officer, a deputy, and an upright man, who, driven to
r by the calamities of the country, had purposely sought death. The
wed its regrets on the loss of this generous citizen ; but
listened coldly to those of Dumouriez, and above all to the wish that he ex-
aities by the same fate. But when he
announced hi* report as in • listen to him was mani-
V
254 HISTORY OF THE
fested on all sides. He coolly desired to be heard, and at length obtained
silence. His remonstrances irritated some of the deputies. " Do you hear
him ?" exclaimed Guadet: " he is lecturing us!" — " And why not ?" coldly
replied the intrepid Dumouriez. Quiet was restored; he finished reading,
and was by turns hooted and applauded. As soon as he had done, he folded
up the paper for the purpose of taking it with him. " He is running away !"
cried one. " No," rejoined he; and, boldly laying his memorial upon the
desk again, he calmly signed it, and walked through the Assembly with
unshaken composure. Some of the members, who thronged round him
he passed, said, " You will be sent to Orleans." — " So much the better," he
replied; "for I shall then take baths and curds, and get a little rest, which I
stand in need of."
His firmness cheered the King, who expressed his satisfaction ; but the
unhappy prince was already shaken and tormented with scruples. Beset by
false friends, he had already taken up his former determinations, and refused
to sanction the two decrees.
The four ministers met in council, and entreated the King to give his
double sanction, which he had seemed to promise. The King drily replied,
that he could assent only to the decree relative to the twenty thousand men ;
that, as for that concerning the priests, he was determined to oppose it; that
his mind was made up ; and that threats could not frighten him. He read
the letter communicating his determination to the President of the Assembly.
"One of you," said he to his ministers, "will countersign it;" and t!
words he uttered in a tone which he had never been known to use before.
Dumouriez then wrote to him, soliciting his dismissal. "That man,"
exclaimed the King, " has made me dismiss three ministers because they
wanted to oblige me to adopt the decrees, and now he insists (in my sanc-
tioning them !" This reproach was unjust, for it was only on condition of
the double sanction that Dumouriez had consented to remain in offiee after
his colleagues. Louis XVI. saw him, and asked if he persisted. " In that
case," said he, "I accept your resignation." The other ministers had
given in theirs also. The King, however, detained Lacoste and Duranthnn.
and prevailed on them to remain. Messrs. Lajard, Chambonas, and Terrier
de Mont-Ciel, selected from among the Feuillans, were appointed t.>
vacant ministerial departments.
"The King," says Madame Campan, "sunk about this time into a
despondency that amounted even to physical debility. He was for ten d
together without utterinir a word even in the midst of his family, excepting
at a game at backgammon, which he played with Madame Elizabeth
dinner, when he merely pronounced the words which are used in that game.
The Queen roused him from this state, so ruinous in a crisis when every
minute brought with it the necessity for acting, by throwing herself at his
feet, and sometimes by employing images calculated to terrify him
others, expressions of her affection for him. She also urged the claims
which he owed to his family : and went so far as to say that, if they mU8l
perish, they bdghl to perish with honour, and not wait to be both stilled on
the floor of their own apartment*"*
It is not difficult to guess the disposition of Louis XVI. when he re-
covered his spirits and returned to business. After having once fors
the party of the Feuillans to throw himself into the arms of the Giron
he could not go back to the former with much cordiality and hope. He had
• Madame Campan, tome ii., p. "0'\
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 255
made the twofold experiment of his incompatibility with both, and, what
ill worst', he had caused them all to make it, too. Thenceforward lie
could not but think more than ever of foreign powers, and rest all his hopes
upon them. This disposition became evident to all, and it alarmed those
who beheld in the invasion of France the fall of liberty, the execution of
its defenders, and perhaps the partition and dismemberment of the kingdom.
Iiouis XVI. saw none of these things, for we always shut our eyes to the
inconveniences of the course that we prefer.
Alarmed at the tumult produced by the route of Mons and Tournay, he
had sent Mallet du Pan to Germany, with instructions in his own band*
writing. He there recommended to the sovereigns to advance cautiously,
to treat the inhabitants of the provinces through which they should pass
with the utmost indulgence, and to send forth before them a manifesto pro-
fessing their pacific and conciliatory intentions.* Moderate as was diis
* The mission given by the King to Mallet du Pan is one of the facts which it is of the
greatest importance to confirm ; and, from the allusions of Bertrand de Molleville, no doubt
can be entertained on the subject. A minister at this period, Bertrand de Molleville must
have possessed accurate information, and, as a counter-revolutionary minister, he would
rather have concealed than avowed such a fact. This mission proves the moderation of
Louis XVI., but likewise his communications with foreigners.
" So far from sharing this patriotic security, the King saw with the deepest grief France
engaged in an unjust and sanguinary war, which the disorganization of her armies seemed
to render it impossible for her to maintain, and which more than ever exposed our frontier
provinces to the dangers of invasion. Above all things his majesty dreaded civil war, and
had no doubt that it would break forth on the intelligence of the first advantage over the
French troops gained by the corps of emigrants forming part of the Austrian army. It
was, in fact, but too much to be apprehended that the Jacobins and the enraged populace
would exercise the most cruel reprisals against the priests and the nobles remaining in
France. These fears, which the King expressed to me in the daily correspondence that I had
with his majesty, determined me to propose to him to send a confidential person to the em-
peror and the King of Prussia, to endeavour to prevail on their majesties not to act offen-
sively but at the last extremity ; and, before the entrance of their armies into the kingdom,
to issue a well-written manifesto, in which it should be declared that ' the emperor and the
King of Prussia, being forced to take up arms by the unjust aggression that had been made
upon them, attributed neither to the King nor to the nation, but to the criminal faction which
oppressed both, the declaration of war which had been notified to them ; that, in conse-
quence, so far from renouncing the sentiments of friendship which united them to the King
and to France, their majesties would fight only to deliver them from the yoke of the most
atrocious tyranny that had ever existed, and to assist them in re-establishing the legitimate
authority forcibly usurped, order, and tranquillity, without at all intending to interfere in any
way whatever in the form of government, but to insure to the nation the liberty of choosing
that which was best suited to it ; that all idea of conquest was, therefore, far from the
thoughts of their majesties ; that private property should be not less respected than national
property ; that their majesties took under their special safeguard all the peaceable and
faithful citizens; that their only enemies, as well as those of France, were the factious and
their adherents, and that their majesties wished to find out and to fight those alone.' Mallet
du Pan, whom the King esteemed for his abilities and integrity, was charged with this
mission. He was the more fit for it, inasmuch as he had never been seen at the palace, had
no connexion with any of the persons belonging to the court, and, by taking the route of
Geneva, to which he was in the habit of making frequent journeys, his departure could not
give rise to any suspicion."
The King gave Mallet du Pan instructions in his own handwriting, which are quoted by
Bertrand de Molleville :
'• 1. The King joins his entreaties to his exhortations, to prevail on the princes and the
emigrant French not to take from the present war, by a hostile and offensive concurrence on
their part, the character of a foreign war waged by one power against another;
" 2. He recommends to them to rely upon him and the interfering courts for the discussion
and securing of their interests, when the moment for treating shall arrive ;
" 3. It is requisite that they appear only as parties and not arbiters in the quarrel, as that
256 HISTORY OF THE
plan, it was nevertheless an invitation to advance into the country ; and,
besides, if such was the wish of the King, was that of the foreign prin
and rivals of France and of the inveterately hostile emigrants t!.
Was Louis XVI. assured that he should not be hurried away beyond
intentions ' The ministers of Prussia and Austria themselves i k
to Mallet du Pan the apprehensions which they felt on account of the «
lence of the. emigrants, and it appears that he had some difficulty to sal
them on this head.* The Queen felt equally strong apprehensions on the
arbitration ought to be reserved for his majesty when liberty shall he restored to him, and for
the powers who shall demand it ;
"1. Any other conduct would produce a civil war in the interior, endanger the lives of
the King and of his family, overturn the throne, cause the royalists to be slaughtered, rally
around the Jacobins all the revolutionists who have seceded and are daily seceding from
them, rekindle an enthusiasm which is tending towards extinction, and render more obstinate
a resistance which will give way before the first successes, when the fate of the Revolution
shall not appear to be exclusively committed to those against whom it has been directed, and
who have been its victims ;
" 5. To represent to the courts of Vienna and Berlin the utility of a manifesto jointly
with the other states which have formed the concert ; the importance of so wording this
manifesto as to separate the Jacobins from the rest of the nation, and to give confidence to
all those who are capable of renouncing their errors, or who, without wishing for the present
constitution, desire the suppression of abuses and the reign of moderate liberty, under a
monarch to whose authority the law sets limits ;
" (!. To obtain the insertion in that document of this fundamental truth, that war is made
on an anti-social faction and not on the French nation ; that the allies take up the defence
of legitimate governments and nations against a ferocious anarchy, which breaks all the
bonds of sociability among men, all the conventions under the shelter of which liberty,
peace, public safety at home and abroad repose ; to dispel all apprehensions of dismember-
ment ; not to impose any laws, but to declare energetically to the Assembly, to the adminis-
trative bodies, to the municipalities, to the ministers, that they shall be held personally and
individually responsible, in their bodies and goods, for all outrages committed against the
sacred person of the King, against that of the Queen and of the royal family, and against
the persons or property of any citizens whatever ;
" 7. To express the wish of the King that, on entering the kingdom, the powers declare
that they are ready to give peace, but that they neither will nor can treat unless with the
King; that in consequence they require that the most complete liln-rty be restored to him.
and that afterwards there be a con mbled, in which the different interests shall be
discussed on bases already laid down, to which the emigrants shall be admitted as com-
plaining parties, and at which the general plan of claims shall be negotiated under the
auspices and the guarantee of the powers." — licrtr.md de M<illeville, tome viii., p. :JK.
* Bertram! de Molleville, from whom I have borrowed the facts relative to Mallet du Pan,
thus expresses himself n\t\m tilsg the recaption end the dispositions which he met with:
"On the 15th and 16th of July, Mallet du Pan had had lonar conferences with Count de
Cohentzel, Count de HaiigwiU, and fcf< llevmann, minister* of the emperor and the King
of PlMss'n. After examining the credentials of his mission, and listening with extreme
attention to the reading of his instructions and of his memorial, those minisU
ledged that the views which he proposed perfectly agreed with those which the King had
previously expressed to the courts of Vienna and Berlin, whi
them. They had, in consequence, testified their entire confidence, and had approved in i
jwint the plan of the manifesto which he had proposed to them. They had declared to him,
in the most positive terms, that no \icw> of ambition, no personal interest or design of dis-
memberment, entered into the plan of the war, anil that the powers bad no other view or
interest than the re-establishment of order in Fr»'.< e could exist beta
her and her neighbours while she was a prey to the anarchy which prevailed, and which
obliged them to keep cordons of troops on all the frontiers, and tu take extraordinary and
very expensive precautions of safety; but that, so far from pretending to impose upon the
French any form of government whatever, the King should be left at perfect liberty to con-
cert with the nation on this subject. They hud applied to him for the most circumstantial
information relative to the dis the interior, the public opinion concerning the old
system, the parliaments, the nobility, tic, etc. They informed him in confidence that the
'661 "d '*'1 OUI01 'wdtuvQ swvpoff »p sjjmuidft — (l'A"ta9ua nc so unq jap
oqs )Bqi *t49auo|«3 jo uran-iwl b pappap os auiojjq iiuutiq qiiA\ 'sueaui jaq
Oaoq psq sjuoabj uioqtt uo 'XzBqjajsg^ vmog paqa«ojdji oqs ••\ju,.pu.
isoui oq) pvq auuopjQ uioqM j.i.v euosjad k>\ av.mv. pa| aq p|n0M aq )uq
pus 'jaqjojq Jaq 'Suijj aq) joj eiuauinuas umo siq o) AJBJ)Uoa )uids b ui p«
l«qi piss Xpuanbajj pus 'Bioijy.P lunog oj aopsnf pip aqg #)i pasoduioa oq
•uoisuaiajd aqi pUB 'saauud aqi jo Xjjsd aq) papBJjp sXum[B ')jwd jaq joj 'u
pauuB[B A[ni.iiS SB.w 'uaanft aq) qitM A"viBd |Buonn)t)suoo aqi jo suiBUiai
aq) jo pouuojui uaaq Suunq,, 'uBduiBg ouiBpsj^ ba"bs 4<'saouud aqi jo
"OSE *d "!!!A atD°l *a//.,iW7/'W V VUVJL>X'9 — «"P*Mon°J
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pauijoj )sotu aq) uaAi8 psq pus 'maq) jo iCxBiuuins jo a)ou b aAsq 01 pajisap
pire aauapiud Jiaqi paSpajAtoujpB A*|snouiiiiBtin pcq sjaisiuiui aaaqi aq) 'isist
ubj np )ajl«JV qaiqAi uo sjBsodojd pire spusoiap luaj.ijnp 3l0 passnasip A"
'a"|)sb'j [-tuaqi punoJB asoqi jo aiuos jo aScnSuiq iubSbabjixb jo X||i9 £
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•uiiq Suipadsaj suoiutdo aqi \\c anauooaj iqSiui nBq-uouuea i
-massy aqi 01 oiojay aq sb 'SuiqsiM. 'Xiujb aqi oi paapdaj pui
pasnjaj 'aajoap aqi jo uonaires s4Sui^ aqi urejqo 01 apBui pcq a
aqi jo iuiiooob uo 'osp3 yqnop on MM 'sutjaui Jiaxp ui ooua^
uiojj sduqjad 'uaa^ds uioaj sduqiad 'zaunouing "sisaud aqi
aqi 01 opa aqi uSis ppiOAV aq i«qi uoiixpuoo uo 'aouBi[p3 axa
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aqi asuas siqi uj qnjssaoons iou aJB Xaqi uaqA\ sanSuiui pau
sSmpaaooad oi jjosaj oi paaioj si 'lajoas ui iob oi paSqqo
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jBqi 'A*[uo AvaiA auo qiiA\. paiiun \\ 'jpsii qi?A^ A"uouuBq ioaj
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aqi sb uoos sb aouBJ^j paiimb 'uaas aABq 3M sb 'oqAv qspi
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•in.qoijjns sbav Xjisuiiui lUBOumSisui isom aip [eAJ9)Qi m\]
sXcp Avaj b iibav 01 Xpio pBq aq 'aauBjavipp A|>o>>ds siq jo
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aqi pire I aiBis aqi jo saojoj oqi \\\: paodfip sii i\: pi:q 11 •)
-usp ajoui aqi qanui os Xuiaua ub sb ijuod aqi Suuapisuoo
XiJBd jBpidod aqi luauioui ibiji iuojj -aouBjaAqap Jaq joj X
aqi qii.w pW 01 XpiuEj jaq pajnfuoa ssapqiJaAau aqs |WJ .t^
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L9Z
•xoixmoAan honhhj
258 HISTORY OF THE
The Feuillans still had Lafayette left. Without taking part in their
secret proceedings, he had shared iheir dislike of Dumouriez, and v.
above all, desirous of saving the King, without injuring the constitu-
tion. Their means were feeble. In the first place, the court which they
strove to save would not be saved by them. The Queen, who cheerfully
confided in Barnave, had always adopted the greatest precautions in her
interviews with him, and had never admitted him except in secret. The
emigrants and the court would not have forgiven her for seeing constitu-
tionalists. They recommended to her, in fact, not to treat with them, and
rather to prefer the Jacobins, because, as they said, it would be necessary
to make concessions to the former, but it would not be bound to any terms
with the latter.* If to this oft-repeated advice be added the personal hatred
of the Queen for M. de Lafayette,t it will be easy to conceive that the court
would be very reluctant to accept the services of constitutionalists and
Feuillans. Besides this aversion of the court to them, we must also consider
the feebleness of the means which they had to employ against the popular
party. Lafayette, it is true, was adored by his soldiers, and could rely
upon his army; but he was in front of the enemy, and he could not l<
the frontier uncovered for the purpose of marching into the interior. Old
Luckner, by whom he was supported, was weak, fickle, and easily intimi-
dated, though very brave in the field. But could they even have reckoned
upon their military resources, the constitutionalists possessed no civil means.
The majority of the Assembly belonged to the Gironde. The national
guard was in part devoted to them, but it was disunited and disorganized.
In order to employ their military forces, they would therefore have been
compelled to march from the frontiers upon Paris ; that is to say, to attempt
an insurrection against the Assembly ; and insurrections, however advan-
tageous for a violent party which adopts the offensive side, are unsuitable
and ruinous to a moderate party, which, in resisting, supports itself by the
laws.
Many, nevertheless, rallied round Lafayette, and concerted with him the
plan of a letter to the Assembly. This letter, written in his name, was
intended to express his sentiments relative to the King and the constitution,
and his disapprobation of everything that tended to attack either. Efk
friends were divided. Some excited, others restrained his zeal. Hut think-
ing only of what was likely to serve the King, to whom he had sworn
fidelity, he wrote the letter; and defied all the dangers which were about tn
threaten his life. The King and Queen, though determined not to make
of him, allowed him to write, because they beheld in this step only an
• "Meanwhile the emigrants betrayed great apprehension of all that might l»e done at
home, in consequence of the coalition with the constitutionalists, whom they described aa
existing only in idea, and as mere ciphers in regard to the means of repairing their blunders.
The Jacobins were to be preferred to them, because, it was alleged, there would be no
occasion to treat with any one at the moment when the King and the royal family should
be rescued from the abyss into which they were plunged." — Mcmoires de Madame Campan,
t< >; in- it., p. 194.
■(•"On one occasion, when Madame Elizabeth advised the Queen to place MnAdones in
Lafayette, her majesty made answer, that it was better to perish than to be saved by Lafay-
ette and the constitutionalists. 'We know that the general will save the King, but be will
not save royalty,' was the public language of the Tuileries. The Queen remembered that
Mirabeau, shortly before his death, had predicted to her that, in case of a war, ' Lnfaj
would desire to keep the King a prisoner in his tent* She was in the habit of replying to
those who spoke to her in the general's favour, ' It would be too hard upon us to be twice
indebted to him for our lives.'" — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 259
exchange of reproaches between the friends of liberty. The letter reached
the Assembly on the 18th of June. Lafayette, disapproving in the first
place of the late minister, whom, he said, he meant to denounce at the
moment when he was informed of his dismissal, proceeded in these terms :
" It is not enough that this branch of the government be delivered from a
baneful influence; the public weal is in danger; the fate of France depends
chiefly on her representatives: from them the nation expects its salvation;
but, in giving itself a constiftition, it has marked out for them the only route
by which they are to save it."
Then, protesting his inviolable attachment to the law which had been
sworn to, he expatiated on the state of France, which he saw placed be-
tween two kinds of enemies, those abroad, and those at home.
" Both must be destroyed. But you will not have the power to destroy
them, unless you be constitutional and just. Look around you; can you
deny that a faction, and, to avoid every vague denomination, that the Jaco-
bin faction, has caused all these disorders? It is to this faction that I loudly
attribute them. Organized like a separate empire, in its principal society
and its affiliations, blindly directed by a few ambitious leaders, this party
forms a distinct corporation amongst the French people, whose powers it
usurps by overawing its representatives and its functionaries.
" It is there that, in the public sittings, love of the iaws is called aristo-
cracy, and their violation, patriotism ; — there the assassins of Desilles re-
ceive triumphs, the crimes of Jourdan* find panegyrists ; — there the account
of the murder which has sullied the city of Metz has but just now excited
infernal acclamations.
" Will they expect to escape from these reproaches by bragging of an
Austrian manifesto in which these sectaries are mentioned? Have they
become sacred since Leopold has pronounced their name ? And, because
we must combat foreigners who interfere in our quarrels, are we to dispense
with the duty of delivering our country from a domestic tyranny ?"
Then, recapitulating his former services for liberty, and enumerating the
guarantees which he had given to the country, the general answered for
himself and his army, and declared that the French nation, if it was not
the vilest in the world, could and ought to resist the conspiracy of the kings
who had coalesced against it. •« But," added he, ** in order that we, soldiers
of liberty, should right with efficacy, and die with benefit for her, it is re-
quisite that the number of the defenders of the country should be speedily
proportioned to that of its adversaries ; that supplies of all kinds be multi-
plied to facilitate our movements ; that the well-being of the troops, their
equipments, their pay, and the arrangements relative to their health, be no
r subject to fatal delays." Then followed other advice, the principal
and last of which was this : " Let the reign of the clubs, annihilated by
you, give place to the reign of the law; their usurpations to the firm and
independent exercise of the constituted authorities ; their disorganizing
I. Jouve Jourdan, entitled the ' Beheader,' was born in 1749. He was successively
a butcher, a blacksmith's journeyman, a smuggler, a servant, general of the army of Vauclus,-
in 1791, and finally leader of a squadron of national gendarmerie. In the massacres of Ver-
sailles he cut off the heads of two of the King's body guards. He boasted also of having
torn out the hearts of Foulon and Bertier, and called on the National Assembly to reward
him for this deed with a civic medal ! He was also one of the chief instigators of the mas-
sacres at Avignon. In 1794 he was condemned to death as a federalist Jourdan was
remarkable for wearing a long beard, which was often l»esprinkled with Wood." — Biograpkie
Modern,:. E.
260 HISTORY OF THE
maxims, to the genuine principles of liberty ; their frantic fury, to the calm
and persevering courage of a nation which knows its rights and defends
them ; and lastly, their sectarian combinations to the true interests of the
country, which, in this moment of danger, ought to rally around them all
those to whom its subjugation and ruin are not objects of atrocious satisfac-
tion and infamous speculation !"
This was saying to exasperated passions, " Stop !" to the parties them-
selves, M Put an end to your own existence !" to a torrent, " Cease to flow !**
But though the advice was useless, it was not the less a duty to give it.
The letter was highly applauded by the right side. The left was silent.
No sooner was the reading of it finished, than it was proposed to print and
send it to the departments.
Vergniaud asked and obtained permission to speak. According to him it
was of importance to that liberty, which M. de Lafayette had hitherto so
ably defended, to make a distinction between the petitions of private citi-
zens, who offered advice or claimed an act of justice, and the lectures of an
armed general. The latter ought never to express his sentiments unless
through the medium of the ministry, otherwise liberty would be undone.
It was, therefore, expedient to pass to the order of the day. M. Thevenot
replied, that the Assembly ought to receive from the lips of M. de Lafayette
truths which it had not dared to tell itself. This last observation excited a
great tumult. Some members denied the authenticity of the letter. " Even
if it were not signed," exclaimed M. Coube, " none but M. de Lafayette
could have written it." Guadet demanded permission to speak upon a
matter of fact, and asserted that the letter could not be that of M. de Lafay-
ette, because it adverted to the dismissal of Dumouriez, which had not taken
place till the 16th, and it was dated the very same day. " It is therefore im-
possible," he added, " that the person whose name is signed to it should
have made mention of a fact which could not have been known to him. Either
the signature is not his, or it was attached to a blank, which was left for a
faction to fill up at its pleasure."
A great uproar followed these words. Guadet resumed : he said that M.
de Lafayette was incapable, according to his known sentiments, of having
written such a letter. "He must know," added he, "that when ClW
well . . ." Dumas, the deputy, unable to contain himself, at this last word,
desired to be heard. Agitation prevailed for a considerable time in the As-
sembly. Guadet, however, regained possession of the tribune, and b<
" I was saying . . ." Again he was interrupted. " You Were at Crom-
well," said someone to him. "I shall return to him," he replied. "I
was saying that M. de Lafayette must know that when Cromwell held a
similar Language, liberty was lost in England. It is expedient either that
we ascertain whether some coward has not sheltered himself beneath the
name of M. de Lafayette, or prove by a signal example to the French
people that we have not taken a vain oath in swearing to maintain the con-
stitution."
A great number of members attested the signature of M. de Laf;
The letter was, nevertheless, referred to the committee of twelve for the
purpose of ascertaining it.s authenticity. It was thus deprived of the honour
of being printed and sent to the departments.
This generous procedure then proved absolutely useless, and could not be
otherwise in the existing state of the public mind. From that moment, the
general became almost as unpopular as the court; and if the leaders of the
Gironde, more enlightened than the populace, did not believe M. de Lafay-
■
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 261
etie capable of betraying his country because he had attacked the Jacobins,
the mass nevertheless believed him to be so, because it was constanUy re
peatcd in the clubs, in the newspapers, and in the public places, that he
was.
Thus die alarm which the court had excited in the popular party was
heightened by that which M. de Lafayette had just added to it by a step of
his own. This party then became absolutely desperate, and resolved to
strike a blow at the court before it could carry into execution the plots of
which it was accused.
We have already seen how the popular party was composed. In speak-
ing out more decidedly, it also manifested a more decided character, and
several additional persons rendered themselves conspicuous in it. Robes-
pierre has already been mentioned at the Jacobins, and Danton at the Cor-
deliers. The clubs, the municipality, and die sections, comprised many
men who, from the ardour of their disposition and opinions, were ready for
any enterprise. Among these were Sergent and Panis, whose names, at a
later period, were connected with a terrible event. In the fauxbourgs were
remarked several commanders of battalions, who had rendered themselves
formidable. The principal of these was a brewer named Santerre. By his
stature, his voice, and a certain fluency of speech, he pleased the people,
and had acquired a kind of sway in the fauxbourg St. Antoine, the battalion
of which he commanded. Santerre had already distinguished himself in
the attack on Vincennes, repulsed by Lafayette in February, 1791 ; and,
like all men who are too easily wrought upon, he was capable of becoming
very dangerous, according to the excitement of the moment.* He attended
all the factious meetings held in the distant fauxbourgs. There, too, were
to be found Carra, the journalist, prosecuted for an attack on Bertrand de
Molleville and MonUnorin ; Alexandre, commandant of the fauxbourg St.
Marceau ; a person well known by the name of Fournier the American ; Le-
gendre,! the butcher, who was afterwards a deputy of the Convention ; a
journeyman goldsmith, named Rossignol ; and several odiers, who, by their
communications widt the populace, set all the fauxbourgs in commotion.
• " M. Grammont assured me he was positively informed that Santerre had entertained a
project to have the Queen assassinated, and that a grenadier of hie battalion had engaged to
perpetrate the crime for a considerable sunt of money, a small part of which he had already
received. The grenadier in question, added M. Grammont, was sufficiently remarkable by a
scar in his left cheek. The 14th of July, die day of the Federation, was the time fixed on
for the execution of the project On that day, accordingly, M. Grammont went himself to
the palace. The grenadier appeared at eight o'clock at night, and, though he was perceived
by the sentinel, yet he had the address to make his escape. He returned, however, the same
night in his uniform, and was taken up at the bottom of the stair leading to the Queen's
apartment. He was recognised by the scar, and conducted to the guard-room. On search-
ing him, a cutlass was found concealed in the lining of his coat. The next morning, just
as he was going to be brought before the justice of peace, he was carried off by a band of
ruffians, who came to the palace on purpose to rescue him." — Private Memoirs of Bertrand
de Molleville. E.
\ '• L. Legendre was ten years a sailor, and afterwards a butcher at Paris. At the break-
ing out of the Revolution he was one of the earliest and most violent leaders of the mob.
In 1791 he was deputed by the city of Paris to the Convention. In 1793 he voted for die
King's death, and, the day before his execution, proposed to the Jacobins to cut him into
eighty-four pieces, and send one to each of the eighty-four departments ! He was one of the
chief instigators of the atrocities of Lyons; and at Dieppe, when some persons complained
of the want of bread, he answered, ' Well, eat the aristocrats !' Legendre died at Paris in
1797, aged forty -one, and bequeathed his body to the surgeons, ' in order to be useful to
mankind after his death.' " — Biographic Moderne. E.
262 ' HISTORY OF THE
By the most conspicuous among them they communicated with the chiefs
of the popular party, and were thus able to conform their movements to a
superior direction.
It is impossible to designate in a precise manner such of the deputies as
contributed to this direction. The most distinguished of them were strangers
to Paris, and possessed no other influence there but that of their eloquence.
Uuadet, Isnard, Vergniaud, were all natives of the provinces, and commu-
nicated more with their departments than with Paris. Besides, though
extremely ardent in the tribune, they were not at all active out of the
Assembly, and were not capable of exciting the multitude. Condorcet and
Brissot, deputies of Paris, were not more active than those just mentioned,
and, by the conformity of their opinions with those of the deputies of the
West and South, they had become Girondins. Roland, since the dismissal
of the patriot ministry, had returned to private life. He occupied an humble
and obscure dwelling in the Rue St. Jacques. Persuaded that the court
entertained the design of delivering up France and liberty to foreigners, he
deplored the calamities of his country in conjunction with some of his friends,
who were members of the Assembly. It does not. however, appear that
any plans were formed in his society for attacking the court. He merely
promoted the printing of a paper entitled La Sentinelle, which was con-
ducted in a patriotic spirit by Louvet, already known at the Jacobins by his
controversy with Robespierre. Roland, during his ministry, had allowed
funds for the purpose of enlightening the public opinion by means of the
press, and it was with a remnant of these funds that La Sentinelle was
carried on.
About this period there was, at Paris, a young native of Marseilles, full
of ardour, courage, and republican illusions, and who, on account of his
extraordinary beauty, was called the Antinous. He had been deputed by
his commune to the legislative Assembly, to complain of the directory of
his department ; for this division between the inferior and superior authori-
ties, between the municipalities and the directories of departments, was
jreneral throughout all France. The name of this young man was Barba-
roux.* Possessing intelligence and great activity, he was likely to become
very serviceable to the popular cause. He met Roland, and deplored with
him the dangers with which the patriots were threatened. They agreed
that, as the danger was daily growing greater in the north of France, they
ought, if driven to the last extremity, to retire to the south, and there found
a republic, which they might some day extend, as Charles VIT. had formerly
extended his kingdom from Bourges. They examined the map with v
van, the ex-minister, and said to each other that, Liberty, if beaten upon the
Rhine and beyond it, ought to retire behind the Vosges and the Loire ; that,
driven from these intrenchments, she would still have left, in the east, the
Doubs, the Ain, and the Rh6ne ; in the west, the Vienne and the Dordogne ;
* " Charles Barbmroux, deputy to the Convention, was born at Marseilles. He embraced
the cause of the Revolution with uncommon ardour, and came to Paris in July, 1792, with
■i few hundred Marscillais, to bring about a revolution against the court He had a con-
siderable share in the insurrection of the 10th of August He belonged to the party of the
Cirondins, and was guillotined in Bordeaux in 1794." — Biographie Modrrnr. E.
"Barbaroux's ingenious disposition and ardent patriotism inspired us with confidence.
Discoursing on the bad situation of affairs, and of our apprehensions of despotism in the
North under Robespierre, we formed the conditional plan of a republic in the South. Bar
baroux was one whose features no painter would disdain to copy for the head of an Anti-
nous." — Madame Roland's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 263
in the centre, the rocks and the rivers of the Limousin. "And beyond
these," added Harbaroux, " we have the Auvergne, its steep hills, its
ravines, its aged forests, and the mountains of the Velay, laid waste of old
by fire, now covered with pines; a wUd country, where men plough amidst
snow, but where they live independently. The Cevennes would offer us
another asylum too celebrated not to be formidable to tyranny ; and in the
extreme south, we should find for barriers the Isere, the Durance, the Rotate
from Lyons to the sea, the Alps, and the ramparts of Toulon. Lastly, if
all these points were forced, we should have Corsica left — Corsica, where
neither Genoese nor French have been able to naturalize tyranny ; which
needs but hands to be fertile, and philosophers to be enlightened."*
It was natural that the natives of the South should think of betaking
themselves to their provinces in case the North should be invaded. They
did not, however, neglect the North, for they agreed to write to their
departments, to induce them to form spontaneously a camp of twenty thou-
sand men, though the decree relative to this camp had not yet been sanctioned.
They reckoned much upon Marseilles, an opulent city, with a numerous
population, and extremely democratic. It had sent Mirabeau to the States-
general, and it had since diffused over all the South the spirit with which it
was itself animated. The mayor of that city was a friend of Barbaroux,
and held the same opinions as he did. Barbaroux wrote, desiring him to
provide supplies of corn, to send trusty persons into the neighbouring depart-
ments as well as to the armies of the Alps, of Italy, and of the Pyrenees,
in order to prepare the public opinion there ; to sound Montesquiou, the
commander of the army of the Alps, and to turn his ambition to the advan-
tage of liberty ; lastly, to concert with Paoli and the Corsicans, so as to
secure a sure aid and a last asylum. It was also recommended to the same
mayor to retain the produce of the taxes in order to deprive the executive
government of it, and in case of need to employ it against the latter. What
Barbaroux did for Marseilles, others did for their departments, and thought
of insuring a refuge for themselves. Thus distrust, converted into despair,
paved the way for a general insurrection, and, in the preparations for
insurrection, there was already a marked difference between Paris and the
departments.
Petion, the mayor, connected with all the Girondins, and subsequenUy
classed and proscribed with them, had from his functions much intercourse
with the agitators of Paris. He had great composure, an appearance of
coldness which his enemies mistook for stupidity, and an integrity which
was extolled by his partizans and never attacked by his slanderers. The
people, who give distinctive appellations to all those who engage their atten-
tion, called him Virtue Petion. We have already mentioned him on occa-
sion of the journey to Verennes, and of the preference given him by the
court to Lafayette for the mayoralty of Paris. The court hoped to bribe
him, and certain swindlers promised to accomplish this matter. They
demanded a sum of money, .which they kept, without having even made
overtures to Petion, whose well known character would have rendered then
useless. The joy felt by the court at the prospect of gaining a supporter
and corrupting a popular magistrate, was of short duration. It soon disco-
vered that it had been cheated, and that its adversaries were not so venal as
it had imagined.
Petion had been one of the first to take for granted that the propensities
* Memoires de Barbaroux, pp. 38, 89.
264 HISTORY OF THE
of a King, born to absolute power, are not to be modified. He was a re-
publican before any one ever dreamt of a republic ; and in the Constituent
Assembly he was from conviction, what Robespierre was from the acerbity
of his temper. Under the Legislative Assembly, he became still more con-
vinced of the incorrigibleness of the court. He was persuaded that it would
call in foreigners, and, as he had before been a republican from system, he
now became so for the sake of safety. Thenceforward he resolved in his
mind, as he said, how to promote a new revolution. He checked ill-directed
movements, favoured on the contrary such as were judicious, and strove
above all things to reconcile them with the law, of which he was a strict
observer, and which he was determined not to violate but at the last ex-
tremity.
Though we are not well acquainted with the extent of the participation
or Petion in the movements which were preparing, and know not whether
he consulted his friends of the Gironde for the purpose of promoting them,
we are authorized by his conduct to assert that he did nothing to impede
them. It is alleged that, in the latter part of June, he went to the house of
Santerre with Robespierre, Manuel, procureur syndic of the commune,
Sillery, ex-constituent, and Chabot, ex-capuchin and deputy ; that the latter
, harangued the section of the Quinze-Vingts, and said that the Assembly was
waiting for it. ^AVhether these circumstances be true or not, it is certain
that clandestine meetings weTe held raruTirorn llie~well-known opinions and
subsequent conduct of the persons above named, it is not to be believed that
they had any scruple to attend them.* From that moment a fete for the
* Among the depositions contained in the proceedings instituted •gainst the anthers of the
. a ^ 20th ofjuner'fcf or.e that is extremely curious, on account of the particulars which it fur-
fi 1 \; nishes — I mean that of Lareynie. It comprehends almost everything that w repeated hy
y ' the other witnesses, and therefore we quote it in preference. These proceedings were printed
; in quarto.
" Before us appeared Sieur Jean Baptists Marie Louis Lareynie, a volunteer soldier of the
battalion of the Isle St. Louis, decorated with the military cross, dwelling in Paris, Quai
Bourbon, No. 1 ;
" Who, deeply afflicted at the disturbances which have recently taken place in the capital,
and conceiving it to be the duty of a good citizen to furnish justice with all the information
that it can need in these circumstances, for the purpose of punishing the abettors and instiga-
tors of all manoeuvres against the public tranquillity and the integrity of the French constitu-
tion, has declared that, for a week past, he has known, from acquaintance that he has in the
fauxbourg St. Antoine, that the citizens of that fauxbourg were worked up by the Sieur
Santerre, commandant of the battalion of the Enfans-Trouves, and by other persons, among
whom were the Sieur Fournier, calling himself an American, and elector, in 1791, of the
department of Paris; the Sieur Rotondo, who calls himself an Italian; the Sieur Lc^endre,
butcher, living in the Rue des Boucheries. fauxbourg St. Germain ; the Sieur Cuirette \'.r-
rieres, living over the coffee-house of Rendez-Vous, Rue du TheKUre-Francais; who held by
night secret meetings at the Sieur Santerre's, and sometimes in the committee-room of the
section of the Enfans-Trouves; that the deliberations were there carried on in the presence
of a very small number of trusty persons of the fauxbourg, such as the Sieur Rossignol, lately
a journeyman goldsmith; the Sieur Nicolas, sapper of the said battalion of the Enfans- Trouves ;
the 8ieur Brierre, wine merchant; the Sieur Gonor, who calls himself the conqueror of the
Bastille, and others whom he could name; that there they determined upon the motions
which should be discussed by the groups at the Tuileries, the Palais Royal, the Place do
Greve, and especially at the Porte St. Antoine; that there were drawn up the incendiary pla-
cards posted from time to lime in the fauxbourgs, and the petitions destined to be carried by
deputations to the patriotic societies of Paris ; and lastly, that there was framed the famous
petition, and there hatched the plot of the 20th of this month. That on the preceding night
there was held a secret committee at the Sieur Santerre's, which began almost at midnight,
and at which witnesses, wliom he can bring forward when they have returned from the errand
on which they have been seut by the Sieur Santerre to the neighbouring country, declare
<V
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 265
20th of June, the anniversary of the oath at the Tennis Court, was talked
of in the fauxbourgs. It was said that a tree of liberty was to be planted on
tin- terrace of the Feuillans, and a petition presented to the Assembly as well
as to the King. This petition, moreover, was to be presented in arms. It
they saw present Messrs. Petion, mayor of Paris ; Robespierre ; Manuel, solicitor of the com-
mune ; Alexandre, commandant of the battalion of St. Michel ; and Sillery, ex-deputy of the
National Assembly. That, on the 20th, the Sieur Santerre, seeing that several of his people,
and especially the leaders of his party, deterred by the resolution (arrete) of the directory of
the department, refused to go down armed, alleging that they should be fired upon, assured
them that they had nothing to fear, that the national guard would not have any orders, and
that M. Petion would be there. That, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon of the said day,
the concourse did not amount to more than about fifteen hundred persons, including those
drawn together by curiosity, and that it was not till the Sieur Santerre, leaving his house, and
putting himself at the head of a detachment of invalids, had arrived at the Place, and by the
way excited the spectators to join him; that the multitude increased considerably till his
arrival at the passage of the Feuillans; that there, not having dared to force the. post, he
turned into the court of the Capuchins, where he caused the may, which he had destined for
the palace of the Tuileries, to be planted ; that then he, this deponent, asked several persons
in the train of the said Sieur Santerre why the may was not planted on the terrace of the
palace, as had been agreed upon, and that these persons replied that they should take good
care not to do any such thing ,• thai it was a snare into which the Feuillantins meant to
lead them because there were guns placed in the garden ; but that they should not run
into the trap. The deponent observed that, at this moment, the mob was almost entirely
dispersed, and that it was not till the drums and music were heard in the vicinity of the
National Assembly, that the people, then scattered here and there, rallied, and, joined by the
other spectators, tiled olF quietly three deep, before the legislative body ; that he, deponent,
remarked that these people, in passing into the Tuileries, were guilty of no misdemeanor, and
did not attempt to enter the palace ; that even when assembled in the Place du Carrousel,
where they arrived after going round by the Quai du Louvre, they manifested no intention
of penetrating into the courts till the arrival of the Sieur Santerre, who was at the National
Assembly, and did not leave it before the sitting was over. That then the Sieur Santerre,
accompanied by several persons, among whom he, deponent, remarked the Sieur Hurugue,
addressed the mob, which was at that time very quiet, and asked why they had not entered
the palace ,• that they must go in, and that this was what they had come for. That imme-
diately he ordered the gunners of his battalion to follow him with one piece of cannon, and
said that, if he was refused admittance, he must break open the gate with cannon-balls ; that
afterwards he proceeded in this manner to the gate of the palace, where he met with a faint
ee from the horse gendarmerie, but a firm opposition on the part of the national guard ;
that this occasioned great noise and agitation, and they would probably have come to blows,
had not two men, in scarfs of the national colours, one of whom he, deponent, knew to be
the Sieur Boucher-Rene, and the other was said by the spectators to be the Sieur Sergent,
come by way of the courts, and ordered, he must say, in a very imperious, not to say insolent
tone, at the same time prostituting the sacred name of the law, the gates to be opened,
adding, tfiat nobody had a right to close them, but every citizen had a right to enter,- that
the gates were accordingly opened by the national guard, and that then Santerre and his
band rushed confusedly into the courts ; that the Sieur Santerre, who had cannon drawn
forward to break open the doors of the King's apartments if he found them fastened, and to
fire upon the national guard in case it should oppose his incursion, was stopped in his pro-
gress in the last court on the left, at the foot of the staircase of the Pavilion by a group of
citizens, who addressed him in the most reasonable language with a view to appease his fury,
and threatened to make him responsible for all the mischief that should be done on that fatal
day, because, said they to him, you are the sole cause of this unconstitutional assemblage,
you alone have misled these good people, and you are the only villain among them. That
the tone in which these honest citizens spoke to the Sieur Santerre caused him to turn pale ;
but that, encouraged by a look from the Sieur Legcndrc, butcher, above named, he had
recourse to a hypocritical subterfuge, addressing his band, and saying, 'Gentlemen, draw tip
a report of my refusal to march at your head into the King's apartments ,•' that the mob,
accustomed to guess the Sieur Santerre's meaning, by way of answer, fell upon the group of
honest citizens, entered with its cannon and its commandant, the Sieur Santerre, and pene-
trated into the apartments by all the passages, after having broken in pieces the doors and
windows."
vol. i. — 34 Z
266 HISTORY OF THE
I is obvious that the real intention of this scheme was to strike terror into the
) palace by the sight of forty thousand pikes.
On the 16th of June, a formal application was addressed to the general
council of the commune that the citizens of the fauxbourg St. Antoine should
be authorized to meet on the 20th in arms, and to present a petition to the
Assembly and to the King. The general council of the commune passed to
the order of the day, and directed that its resolution (arrcte) should be com-
municated to the directory and to the municipal body. The petitioners did
not regard this proceeding as a condemnation of their purpose, and declared
loudly that they would meet in spite of it. It was not till the 1 8th that
Petion, the mayor, made the communications ordered on the 16th: he
made them, moreover, to the department only and not to the municipal
body.
^^X^JiMhe 19th, the directory of the department, which we have seen exert-
ing itselfoVTall occasions against agitators, passed a resolution (arrite) for-
bidding armed assemblages, and enjoining the commandant-general and the
mayor to employ the measures necessary for dispersing them. This reso-
lution was notified to the Assembly by the minister of the interior, and a
discussion immediately arose on the question*whether it should be read or
not.
Vergniaud opposed its being read, but unsuccessfully. The reading of
the resolution was immediately followed by the order of the day.
Two circumstances of considerable importance had just occurred in the
Assembly. The King had signified his opposition to the two decrees, one
of which related to the nonjuring priests, and the other to the formation of a
camp of twenty thousand men. This communication had been received in
profound silence. At the same time, some persons from Marseilles had ap-
peared at the bar for the purpose of reading a petition. We have just seen
what kind of correspondence Barbaroux kept up with them. Excited by his
counsels, they had written to Petion, offering him all their forces,* and this
offer was accompanied with a petition to the Assembly. In this petition
they said among other things :
"French liberty is in danger, but the patriotism of the South will save
France. The day of the people's wrath is arrived Legislators, the
power of the people is in your hands; make use of it: French patriotism
demands your permission to march with a more imposing force towards the
capital and the frontiers You will not refuse the sanction of the
law to those who would cheerfully perish in its defence."
This petition gave rise to long debates in the Assembly. The members
of the right side maintained that, to send such a decree to the departm
would be inviting them to insurrection. Its transmission was nevertheless
decreed, in spite of these remarks, which were certainly very just but una-
vailing, since people were persuaded that nothing but a new revolution could
save France and liberty.
Such had been the occurrences of the 19th. Notwithstanding the resolu-
tion of the directory, the movements continued in the fauxbourgs, and it is
affirmed that Santerre said to his trusty partisans, who were somewhat inti-
• "When the Marscillois soon afterwards arrived in Paris, though only about five hundred
in number, they marched through the city 1o the terror of the inhabitants, their keen black
eyes seeming to seek out aristocratic victims, and their songs partaking of the wild Moorish
character that lingers in the south of France, denouncing vengeance on kings, priests, and
nobles. ' I never,' says Madame de la Rochejaquclein, ' heard anything more impressive and
terrible than their songs.' " — Scot ft Life of Napoleon, £.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 267
midated by that resolution, "What are you afraid of? The national guard
will not have orders to fire, and M. Petion will be there."
At midnight the mayor, whether he conceived that the movement was ir-
hle, <>r that he ought to favour it, as he did that of the 10th of August,
wrote to the directory, soliciting it to authorize the assemblage, by permit-
ting the national guard to receive the citizens of the fauxbourgs into its ranks.
This expedient fully accomplished the views of those who, without wishing
for any disturbance, were nevertheless desirous of overawing the King; and
everything proves that such were in fact the views of Petion and the popular
chiefs.
At five o'clock on the morning of the 20th of June, the directory replied
that it persisted in its preceding resolutions. Petion then ordered the com-
mandant-general on duty to keep up all the posts to their full complement,
and to double the guard of the Tuileries. But he did nothing more : arid,
unwilling either to renew the scene in die Champ de Mars, or to disperse the
assemblage, he waited till nine o'clock for the meeting of the municipal body.
As soon as it met, it came to a decision contrary to that of the directory, and
the national guard was enjoined to open its ranks to the armed petitioners.
Petion did not oppose a resolution which violated the administrative subordi-
nation, and was thus guilty of a species of inconsistency, with which he was
afterwards reproached. But, whatever was the character of that resolution,
its objects were rendered useless, for the national guard had not time to as-
semble, and the concourse soon became so considerable, that it was no longer
possible to change either its form or its direction.
ylt was eleven o'clock in the forenoon. The Assembly had just met in
expectation of some great event. The members of the department hastened
to it for the purpose of acquainting it with the inutility of their efforts. Roe-
derer, the procureur syndic, obtained permission to speak. He stated that
an extraordinary assemblage of citizens had met, in spite of the law and va-
rious injunctions of the authorities: that the object of this assemblage ap-
peared to be to celebrate the anniversary of the 20th of June, and to pay a
new tribute of respect to the Assembly : but that, if this was the intention of
the greater number, it was to be feared that evil-disposed persons were de-
sirous of availing themselves of this concourse to carry an address to the
King, to whom none ought to be presented but in the peaceful form of a
mere petition.
Then, referring to the resolutions of the directory and of the general coun-
cil of the commune, the laws enacted against armed assemblages, and those
which limit to twenty the number of citizens who could present a petition,
he exhorted the Assembly to enforce them: "for," added he, "armed peti-
tioners are to-day thronging hither by a civic movement: but to-morrow a
crowd of evd-disposed persons may collect, and then, I ask you, gendemen,
what should we have to say to them?"
Amidst the applause of the right and the murmurs of the left, which, by
disapproving the apprehensions and the foresight of the department, evidently
approved the insurrection, Vergniaud ascended the tribune, and observed that
the abuse with which the procureur syndic was alarming the Assembly for
the future, had already taken place. That on several occasions, armed pe-
titioners had been received, and even permitted to file through the hall ; that
this was perhaps wrong, but that the petitioners of that day would have reason
to complain if they were treated differently from others ; that if, as it was
said, they purposed to present an address to the King, no doubt ihey would
send to him unarmed petitioners; and, at any rate, if any danger was appre-
268 HISTORY OF THE
hendcd for the King, they had but to send him a deputation of sixty mem-
bers for a safeguard.
Dumolard admitted all that Vergniaud had asserted, confessed that the
abuse had taken place, but declared that a stop ought to be put to it, and
more especially on this occasion, if they did not wish the Assembly and the
King to appear in the eyes of all Europe the slaves of a destructive faction.
He proposed, like Vergniaud, the sending of a deputation: but he required,
moreover, that the municipality and the department should be responsible for
the measures taken for the maintenance of the laws. The tumult became
more and more violent. A letter was brought from Santerre. It was read
amidst the applause of the tribunes. It purported that the inhabitants of the
fauxbourg St. Antoine were celebrating the ^Oth of June; that they were
calumniated, and begged to be admitted to the bar of the Assembly, in order
that they might confound their slanderers, and prove that they were still the
men of the 14th of July.
Vergniaud then replied to Dumolard that, if the law had been violated, the
example was not new : that to attempt to oppose the violation of it this time
would be to renew the sanguinary scene in the Champ de Mars : and that,
after all, there was nothing reprehensible in the sentiments of the petitioners.
Justly anxious about the future, added Vergniaud, they wish to prove that,
in spite of all the intrigues carried on against liberty, they are still ready to
defend it.
Here, as we see, the true sentiment of the day was disclosed by an ordi-
nary effect of the discussion. The tumult continued, Ramond desired per-
mission to speak, but a decree was required before he could obtain it. At
this moment it was stated that the petitioners were eight thousand. " Eight
thousand '." exclaimed Calvet, " and we are but seven hundred and forty-five.
Let us adjourn." Cries of "Order! order!" arose on all sides. Calvet
was called to order, and Ramond was urged to speak, because eight thousand
citizens were waiting. "If eight thousand citizens are waiting," said he,
" twenty-four millions of French are waiting for me, too." He then repeated
the reasons urged by his friends of the right side. All at once, the petition-
ers rushed into the hall. The Assembly, indignant at the intrusion, rose;
the president put on his hat, and the petitioners quietly withdrew. The As-
sembly, gratified by this mark of respect, consented to admit them.
This petition, the tone of which was most audacious, expressed the pre-
vailing idea of all the petitions of that period. " The people are ready.
They wait but for you. They are disposed to employ great means for car-
rying i»to execution Article 2 of the declaration of rights — resistance to
oppression Let the minority among you, whose sentiments do not
agree with ours, cease to pollute the land of liberty, and betake yourselves
to Coblentz. Investigate the cause of the evils which threaten us. If it
proceeds from the executiye, let the executive be annihilated !"
The president, after a reply in which he promised the petitioners the
vigilance of the representatives of the people, and recommended obedience
to the laws, granted them, in the name of the Assembly, permission to file
off before it. The doors were then thrown open, and the mob, amounting
at that moment to at least thirty thousand persons, passed through the hall.
It is easy to conceive what the imagination of the populace,, abandoned to
itself, is capable of producing. Enormous tables, upon which lay the de-
claration of rights, headed the procession. Around these tables danced
women and children, bearing olive-branches and pikes, that is to say, peace
or war, at the option of the enemy. They sang in chorus the famous Ca
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 269
ira. Then came the porters of the markets, the working men of all classes,
with wretched muskets, swords, and sharp pieces of iron fastened to the
end of thick bludgeons. Santerre and the Marquis de St. llurugues, who
had already attracted notice on the 5th and 6th of October, marched with
drawn swords at their head. Battalions of the national guard followed in
good order, to prevent tumult by their presence. After them came women
and more armed men. Waving flags were inscribed with the words, " The
constitution or death." Ragged breeches were held up in the air with
shouts of Vivent les sans-culottes ! Lasdy an atrocious sign was displayed
to add t'crocity to the whimsicality of the spectacle. On the point of a pike
was borne a calf's heart, with this inscription: " Heart of au aristocrat."
Grief and indignation burst forth at this sight. The horrid emblem in-
stantly disappeared, but was again exhibited at the gates of the Tuileries.
The applause of the tribunes, the shouts of the people passing through the
hall, the civic songs, the confused uproar, and the silence of the anxious
:ubly composed an extraordinary scene, and at the same time an
afflicting one to the very deputies who viewed the multitude as an auxiliary.*
Why, alas ! must reason prove so insufficient in such times of discord ?
Why did those who called in the disciplined barbarians of the north oblige
their adversaries to call in those other undisciplined barbarians, who, by
turns merry and ferocious, abound in the heart of cities, and remain sunk in
depravity amid the most polished civilization !
This scene lasted for three hours. At length Santerre again came forward
to express to the Assembly the thanks of the people, and presented it with
a flag in token of gratitude and attachment.
The mob at this moment attempted to get into the garden of the Tuileries,
the gates of which were closed. Numerous detachments of the national
guard surrounded the palace, and, extending in line from the Feuillans to
the river, presented an imposing front. By order .of the King, the garden-
gate was opened. ' The people instantly poured in, and filed off under the
windows of the palace and before the ranks of the national guard, without
any hostile demonstration, but shouting, " Down with the Veto! The sans-
culottes for ever !" Meanwhile some persons, speaking of the King, said,
" Why does he not show himself? ...... We mean to do him no harm."
— The old expression, He is imposed upon, was occasionally, but rarely,
heard. The people, quick at catching the opinions of its leaders, had like
them despaired.
The crowd, moving off by the garden-gate leading to the Pont Royal,
proceeded along the quay and through the wickets of the Louvre to the
Place du Carrousel. This place, now so spacious, was then intersected by
numerous streets. Instead of that immense court, extending from the body
of the palace to the gate and from one wing to the other, there were small
courts separated by walls and houses. Ancient wickets opened from each
of them into the Carrousel. All the avenues were crowded with people and
* " It may be alleged in excuse that the Assembly had no resource but submission. Yet
brave men, in similar circumstances, have, by a timely exertion of spirit, averted similar in-
solcncies. When the furious anti-catholic mob was in possession of the avenues to, and
even lobbies of, the House of Commons in 1780, General Cosmo Gordon, a member of the
House, went up to the unfortunate nobleman under whose guidance tbey were supposed to
act, and addressed him thus: 'My lord, is it your purpose to bring your rascally adherents
into the House of Commons? for, if so, I apprize you that the insU.nl one of them enters,
I pass my sword, not through his body, but your lordship's.' The hint was sufficient, and
the mob was directed to another quarter." — Scott's Life of Napokon. E.
II
270 HISTORY OF THE
they appeared at the royal gate. They were refused admittance. Some
of the municipal officers addressed them, and appeared to have prevailed
upon them to retire. It is asserted that at this moment Santerre, coming
from the Assembly, where he had stayed till the last moment to present a
flag, whetted the almost blunted purpose of the people, and caused the
cannon to be dfawn up to the gale.
It was nearly four o'clock. Two municipal officers all at once ordered
the gate to be opened.* The troops which were in considerable force at
this point, and consisted of battalions of the national guard and several de-
tachments of gendarmerie, were then paralyzed. The people rushed head-
long into the court, and thence into the vestibule of the palace. Santerre,
threatened, it is said, by two witnesses, on account of this violation of the
royal residence, exclaimed, turning to the assailants, " Bear witness that I
refuse to go into the King's apartments." This apostrophe did not stop the
mob, which had received a sufficient stimulus. They poured into every
part of the palace, took possession of all the staircases, and by main force
dragged a piece of cannon up to the first floor. At the same instant, the
assailants commenced an attack with swords and hatchets upon the doors
which were closed against them.
Louis XVI. had just at this moment sent away a great number of his
dangerous friends, who, without possessing the power to save, had so often
compromised him. They had hastened to him, but he had made them leave
the Tuileries, where their presence would only have served to exasperate,
without repressing, the people. He had with him the old Marshal de
Mouchy Acloque, chef de bxitaillon, some of the servants of his household,
and several trusty officers of the national guard. It was at this moment that
the cries of the people and the strokes of the hatchets were heard. The
officers of the national guard immediately surrounded him and implored
him to show himself, vowing to die by his side. Without hesitation, he
ordered the door to be opened. At that instant, the panel, driven in I
violent blow, fell at his feet. It was at length opened, and a forest of pikes
and bayonets appeared. »« Here I am !" said Louis XVI., showing himself
to the furious rabble. Those who surrounded him kept close to him and
formed a rampart of their bodies. '"Pay respect to your King," they
exclaimed ; ami the mob, whiph certainly had no definite purpose, relaxed
its intrusion.
Several voices announced a petition, and desired that it might be read.
Those about the King prevailed upon him to retire to a more spacious room
to hear this petition. The people, pleased to see their desire complied with.
followed the prince, whom his attendants had the good sense to place in the
embrasure of a window. He was made to mount a small bench ; several
others were set before him, and a table was added. All who had accom-
panied him were ranged around. Some grenadiers of the guard and ofii*
of the household arrived to increase the number of his defenders, who
formed a rampart, behind which he could listen with less danger to this
terrible lecture of the rabble. Amidst uproar and shouts were heard the
oft-repeated cries of " No veto! No priests! No aristocrats ! The camp
near Paris !" Legendre, the butcher, stepped up, and in popular langna™*
demanded the sanction of the decree. " This is neither the place nor the
moment," replied the King, with firmness ; " I will do all that the constitu-
* All the witnesses examined agreed respecting this fact, differing only as to the name of
the municipal officers.
J
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 271
tign requires." This resistance produced its effect. "Vive la nation!
J'irr la nation .'" shouted the assailants. "Yes," resumed Louis XVI.,
" Fire la nation ! I am its best friend." " Well, prove it then," said one
of the rabble, holding before him a red cap at the point of a pike. A refusal
might have been dangerous ; and certainly in the situation of the King,
dimity did not consist in throwing away his life by rejecting a vain sign,
but in doing as he did, in bearing with firmness the assault of the multitude.
He put the cap upon his head, and the applause was general.* As he felt
oppressed by the heat of the weather and the crowd, one of the half-
drunken fellows, who had brought with him a bottle and a glass, offered
him some of his drink. The King had long been apprehensive lest he
should be poisoned ; he nevertheless drank without hesitation, and was
loudly applauded.
Meanwhile, Madame Elizabeth, who was fondly attached to her brother,
and who was the only one of the royal family that could get to him, fol-
lowed him from window to window, to share his danger. The people,
when they saw her, took her for the Queen. Shouts of »« There's the Aus-
trian !" were raised in an alarming manner. The national grenadiers, who
had surrounded the princess, endeavoured to set the people right. " Leave
them," said that generous sister, " leave them in their error, and save the
Queen !"
The Queen, with her son and her daughter, had not been able to join her
royal consort. She had fled from the lower apartments, hurried to the
council-chamber, and could not reach the King on account of the crowd,
which filled the whole palace. She was anxious to rejoin him, and
earnestly begged to be led to the room where he was. On being dissuaded
from this attempt, standing behind the council-table, with some grenadiers,
she watched the people file off with a heart full of horror, and eyes swim-
ming with tears, which she repressed. Her daughter was weeping by her
side ; her young son, frightened at first, had soon recovered his cheerful-
ness, and smiled in the happy ignorance of his age. A red cap had been
handed to him, and the Queen had put it on his head. Santerre recom-
mended respect to the people, and spoke cheeringly to the princess. He
repeated to her the accustomed and unfortunately useless expression, " Ma-
dam, you are imposed upon ; you are imposed upon." Then, seeing the
young prince encumbered with the red cap, M The boy is stifling," said he,
and relieved him from that ridiculous head-dress.
Some of the deputies, on receiving intelligence of the danger of the
palace, had hastened to the King, addressed the people, and enjoined respect.
Others had repaired to the assembly, to inform it of what was passing, and
• " While we were leading a somewhat idle life, the 20th of June arrived. We met that
morning, as usual, in a coffee-room in Rue St Honore. On going out, wc saw a mob ap-
proaching, which Bonaparte computed at five or six thousand men, all in rags, and armed
with every sort of weapon, vociferating the grossest abuse, and proceeding with rapid pace
towards the Tuileries. ' Let us follow that rabble,' said Bonaparte to me. We got before
them, and went to walk in the gardens, on the terrace overlooking the water. From this
station he beheld the disgraceful occurrences that ensued. I should fail in attempting to
depict the surprise and indignation roused within him. He could not comprehend such
weakness and forbearance. But when the King showed himself at one of the windows
fronting the garden, with the red cap which one of the mob had just placed on his head,
Bonaparte could no longer restrain his indignation. ' What madness !' exclaimed he ; ' how
could they allow these scoundrels to enter 1 They ought to have blown four or five hundred
of them into the air with cannon. The rest would then have taken to their heels.' "
Bourriatnc's Memoirs. E.
272 HISTORY OF THE
the agitation there was increased by the indignation of the right side, and
ihe efforts of the left to palliate this invasion of the palace of the monarch.
A deputation had been decreed without discussion, and twenty-four mem-
bers had set out to surround the King. It had been moreover decreed that
the deputation should be renewed every half-hour, in order that the Assem-
bly might be instantly apprised of everything that might occur. The de-
puties who were sent spoke alternately, hoisted upon the shoulders of the
grenadiers. Petion afterwards made his appearance, and was accused of
having come too late. He declared that it was half-past four before he
heard of the attack made at four ; that it had taken him half an hour to get
to the palace, and that it was not until a long time after this he could over-
come the obstacles which separated him from the King, so that he had been
prevented from reaching his presence earlier than half-past five. On ap-
proaching the prince, " Fear nothing, sire," said he, " you are in the midst
of your people." Louis XVI., taking the hand of a grenadier, placed it
upon his heart, saying, " Feel whether it beats quicker than usual." This
noble answer was warmly applauded. Petion at length mounted an arm-
chair, and addressing the crowd, said that, after laying its remonstrances
before the King, it had now nothing further to do but to retire peaceably
and in such a manner as not to sully that day. Some persons who were
present assert that Petion said its just remonstrances. This expression,
however, would prove nothing but the necessity for not offending the mob.
Santerre reinforced him with his influence, and the palace was soon cleared.
The rabble retired in a peaceful and orderly manner. It was then about
seven in the evening.
The King was immediately joined by the Queen, his sister, and his child-
ren, shedding a flood of tears. Overcome by the scene, the King had still
the red cap on his head. He now perceived it for the first time during seve-
ral hours, and flung it from him with indignation. At this moment, fresh
deputies arrived to learn the state of the palace. The Queen, going over it
with them, showed them the shattered doors and the broken furniture, and
expressed her keen vexadon at such outrages. Merlin de Thionville,* one
of the stanchest republicans, was one of the deputies present. The Queen
perceived tears in his eyes. " You weep," said she to him, " to see the King
and his family treated so cruelly by a people whom he has always wished to
render happy." — "It is true, madam," replied Merlin ; " I weep over the
misfortunes of a beautiful, tender-hearted woman and moUier of a family ;
but do not mistake ; there is not one of my tears for the King or the
Queen — I hate Kings and Queens. "t
Next day general indignation prevailed among the partisans of the court,
who considered it as outraged, and among the constitutionalists, who re-
• " Antoinc Merlin de Thionville, a bailiff and a municipal officer, was deputed by the
Moselle to the legislature, where he, Bazire, and Chabot, formed, what was then called the
triumvirate, which, during the whole session, made it a point daily to denounce all the minis-
ters and placemen. On the 10th of August he signalized himself at the head of the ene-
mies of the court. He strongly objected to the motion to allow counsel for the King, and
warmly urged his execution. During the contest which led to Robespierre's fall, he main-
tained the most complete silence, and, after the victory, joined the conquerors. He was
afterwards appointed president of the Convention. In 1797 he was denounced to the Coun-
cil of Five Hundred as a peculator, for he had at that period immense landed propi^L
whereas, before the Revolution he had none; but the denunciation failed. In 1798 Merlin
obtained an appointment in the management of the general post.'' — Biographic Mo-
derne. E.
} Memoircs de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 215.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 273
garded this invasion as a violation of the laws and of the public tranquillity.
The disturbance had beep alarming, hut now it was greatly exaggerated. It
was alleged to have been a plan for murdering the King, and it was even
led that this plan had miscarried solely from the effect of a lucky acci-
dent. Hence, by a natural reaction, the popular opinion of the day was in
favour of the royal family, who, on the preceding, had been exposed to so
many danger! and outrages ; and the supposed authors of the assault be-
came objects of unqualified censure.
Sad faces were seen in the Assembly. Several deputies inveighed
against the events of the preceding day. M. Bigot proposed a law
against armed petitions, and against the custom of suffering bodies of men
to file off through the hall. Though there already existed laws on this
head, they were renewed by a decree. M. Daveirhoult moved for proceed-
ings against the disturbers. " Proceedings," exclaimed one of the members,
44 against forty thousand men !" — 44 Well, then," he replied, ,4 if it is impos-
sible to distinguish among forty thousand men, punish the guard, which did
not defend itself; or, at least do something."
The ministers then entered, to present a report on what had happened,
and a discussion arose on the nature of the circumstances. A member of
the right, observing that Vergniaud's testimony was above suspicion, and
that he had been an eye-witness of the affair, called upon him to relate
what he had seen. Vergniaud, however, declined to rise at this appeal, but
maintained silence. The boldest of the left side, nevertheless, shook off
constraint and took courage towards the conclusion of the sitting. They
even ventured to propose that an examination should be instituted whether
the veto was necessary in certain peculiar circumstances ; but this motion
was thrown out by a great majority.
Towards evening, a fresh scene similar to that of the preceding day was
apprehended. The people, on retiring, had said that they should come
again, and it was believed that they would keep their word. But, whether
this was only a remnant of the agitation of the day before, or whether for the
moment this new attempt was disapproved of by the leaders of the popular
party, it was very easily stopped; and Petion repaired in great haste to the
palace, to inform the King that order was restored, and that the people,
having laid their remonstrances before him, were now tranquil and satisfied.
44 That is not true," said the King. — "Sire." — . . . — 44 Be silent." — 44It
befits not the magistrate of the people to be silent, when he does his duty
and speaks the truth." — 44 The tranquillity of Paris rests on your head." — '4 1
know my duty: I shall perform it." — 44 Enough: go and perform it. Retire."
The King, notwithstanding his extreme good nature, was liable to fits of
ill-humour, which the courtiers termed coup de boutoir. The sight of Pe-
tion, who was accused of having encouraged the scenes of the preceding day,
exasperated him, and produced the conversation which we have just quoted.
It was soon known to all Paris. Two proclamations were immediately is-
l, one by the King, the other by the municipality: and hostilities seemed
to be commencing between these two authorities.
The municipality told the citizens to be peaceable, to pay respect to the
King, to respect the National Assembly and to make it be respected; not to
assemble in arms, because it was forbidden by the laws, and, above all, to
beware of evil-disposed persons who were striving to excite fresh commo-
tions.
It was actually rumoured that the court was endeavouring to excite a
second insurrection of the people, that it might have occasion to sweep them
vol. i. — 35
/
274 HISTORY OF THE
away with artillery. Thus the palace supposed the existence of a plan for
a murder — the fauxbourgs that a plan existed for a massacre.
The King said, "The French will not have learned without pain that a
multitude, led astray by certain factious persons, has entered by force of
arms the habitation of the King. . . . The King has opposed to the threats
and the insults of the factious nothing but his conscience and his love for the
public weal.
" He knows not where will be the limit at which they will stop : but to
what excesses soever they proceed, they shall never wring from him a con-
sent to anything that he deems contrary to the public interest.
"If those who wish to overthrow the monarchy have need of another
crime, they have it in their power to commit it.
"The King enjoins all the administrative bodies and municipalities to pro-
vide for the safety of persons and property."
These opposite sentiments corresponded with the two opinions which
were then formed. All those whom the conduct of the court had driven to
despair were but the more exasperated against it, and the more determined
to thwart its designs by all possible means. The popular societies, the mu-
nicipalities, the pikemen, a portion of the national guard, and the left side
of the Assembly, were influenced by the proclamation of the mayor of Paris,
and resolved to be prudent no farther than was necessary to avoid being
mowed down by grape-shot without any decisive result. Still, uncertain as
to the means to be employed, they waited, full of the same distrust, and
even aversion. Their first step was to oblige the ministers to attend the As-
sembly, and give account of the precautions which they had taken on two
essential points:
1. On the religious disturbances excited by the priests ;
2. On the safety of the capital, which the camp of twenty thousand men,
refused by the King, was destined to cover.
Those who were called aristocrats, the sincere constitutionalists, part of
the national guards, several of the provinces, and especially the departmental
directories spoke out on this occasion, and in an energetic manner. The laws
having been violated, they had all the advantage of speech, and they used it
without reserve. A great number of addresses were sent to the King. At
Rouen and at Paris a petition was drawn up and supported by twenty thou-
sand signatures. This petition was associated in the minds of the people
with that already signed by eight thousand Parisians against the camp below
Paris. Lastly, legal proceedings were ordered by the department against
Petion, the mayor, and Manuel,* procureur of the commune, who were both
accused of having favoured, by their dilatory conduct, the irruption of the
20th of June. At this moment, the behaviour of the King during that trying
day was spoken of with admiration. There was a general change of opinion
respecting his character, and people reproached themselves with having
charged it with weakness. But it was soon perceived that the passive cour
which resists is not that which anticipates dangers, instead of awaiting them
with resignation.
The constitutional party fell anew to work with the utmost activity. All
• "Manuel was bom at Montargis in 1751. On the trial of the King, he voted for im-
prisonment and banishment in the event of peace. When the Quern's trial came on, he was
summoned as a witness against her, but only expressed admiration of her fortitude, and pity
for her misfortunes. In November, 1793, Manuel was condemned to death by the revolu-
tionary tribunal, and executed. He was the author <>f pawn] works, and among others, of
1 Letters on the Revolution.' " — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 275
those who had surrounded Lafayette to concert witli him the letter of the
16th of June, again united for the purpose of taking some signal step. La-
fayette had felt deep indignation tin learning what had occurred at the palace :
and he was found to be quite willing to assist. Several addresses from his
regiments, expressing similar indignation, were sent to him. Whether these
addresses were concerted or spontaneous, he put a stop to them by an order
of the day, in which he promised to express, in person, the sentiments of
the whole army. He resolved, therefore, to go to Paris, and to repeat to the
legislative body what he had written to it on the 16th of June. He arranged
the matter with Luckner, who was as easily led as an old warrior who has
never been out of his camp.* He induced him to write a letter addressed to
the King, expressing the same sentiments that he was himself about to pro-
claim viva voce at the bar of the legislative body. He then took all requisite
measures so that his absence might not be detrimental to the military opera-
tions, and, tearing himself from his attached soldiers, he hastened to Paris
to confront the greatest dangers.
Lafayette reckoned upon his faithful national guard, and on imparting a
new impulse by means of it. He reckoned upon the court, which he could
not believe to be his foe, when he came tp sacrifice himself for it. Having
proved his chivalrous love of liberty, he was now resolved to prove his sin-
cere attachment to the King; and, in his heroic enthusiasm, it is probable
that his heart was not insensible to the glory of this twofold self-devotion.
He arrived on the morning of the 28th of June. The news soon spread,
and it was everywhere repeated with surprise and curiosity that General La-
fayette was in Paris.
Before his arrival, the Assembly had been agitated by a great number of
contrary petitions. Those of Rouen, Havre, the Ain, the Seine and Oise,
the Pas de Calais, and the Aisne, condemned the outrages of the 20th of
June. Those of Arras and of l'Herault seemed almost to approve of them.
There had been read, on the one hand, Luckner's letter to the King, and, on
the other, atrocious placards against him. The reading of these different
papers had produced excitement for several preceding days.
On the 28th, a considerable concourse had repaired to the Assembly,
hoping that Lafayette, whose intentions were yet a secret, would make his
appearance there. About half-past one o'clock, a message was actually
brought, stating that he desired to be admitted to the bar. He was received
with plaudits by the right side, but with silence by the tribunes and the left
side.
"Gentlemen," said he, " I must in the first place assure you that, in con-
sequence of arrangements concerted between Marshal Luckner and myself,
my presence here cannot in any way compromise either the success of our
arms, or the safety of the anny which I have the honour to command."
The general then explained the motives of his coming. It had been as-
serted that his letter was not written by himself. He came to avow it, and,
to make this avowal, he came from amidst his camp, where he was sur-
rounded by the love of his soldiers. A still stronger reason had urged him
to this step. The 20th of June had excited his indignation and that of his
army, which had presented to him a multitude of addresses. He had put a
stop to them, and solemnly engaged to be the organ of its sentiments to the
National Assembly. " The soldiers," he added, " are already asking them-
* " Marshal Luckner blamed extremely the intention Lafayette announced of repairing to
Paris, ' because,' said he, ' the sans culottes will cut oil" his head.' But as this was the sold
objection he made, the general resolved to set out alone." — Lafayette's Memoirs.. E.
f
276 • HISTORY OF THE
selves if it is really the cause of liberty and of the constitution that they are
defending." He besought the National Assembly,
1. To prosecute the instigators of the 20th of June ;
2. To suppress a sect which grasps at the national sovereignty, and whose
public debates leave no doubt respecting the atrocity of its designs ;
3. Lasdy, to enforce respect for the authorities, and to give the armies
the assurance that the constitution shall suffer no injury at home, while they
are spilling their blood to defend it abroad.
The president replied that the Assembly would uphold the law which had
been sworn to, and that it would examine his petition. He was invited to
the honours of the sitting.
The general proceeded to take his seat on the benches of the right. Ker-
saint, the deputy, observed that his proper place was on the petitioners'
bench. Cries of "Yes!" ."No!" burst from all parts. The general
modestly rose and removed to the petitioners' bench. Numerous plaudits
accompanied him to this new plac#. Guadet* was the first who spoke, and
resorting to a clever circumlocution, he asked if the enemy was vanquished,
and the country delivered, since M. de Lafayette was in Paris. " No," he
exclaimed in reply, " the country is not delivered ; our situation is not
changed ; and yet the general of one of our armies is in Paris !" He should
not inquire, he continued, whether M. de Lafayette, who saw in the French
people nothing but a factious mob surrounding and threatening the authori-
ties, was not himself surrounded by a staff which was circumventing him ;
but he should observe to M. de Lafayette that he was trespassing against the
constitution by making himself the organ of an army legally incapable of
deliberating, and that probably he was also trespassing against the authority
of the military powers by coming to Paris without being authorized by the
minister at war.
Guadet, in consequence, proposed that the minister at war should be
called upon to state whether he had given leave of absence to M. de La-
fayette, and that, moreover, the extraordinary commission should report
upon the question whether a general had a right to address the Assembly on
purely political subjects.
Ramond came forward to answer Guadet. He set out with a very natural
observation, and one that is very frequendy applicable, that the interpretation
of the laws is liable to great variations according to circumstances. " Nev
said he, " have we been so scrupulous relative to the existence of the right
of petition. When, but very lately, an armed multitude presented itself, it
was not asked what was its errand ; it was not reproached with infringing
by the parade of arms the independence of the Assembly; but when M. de
Lafayette, who is for America and for Europe the standard of liberty — when
he presents himself, suspicions are awakened ! . . If there are two weights
and two measures, if there are two ways of considering things, let it be
allowable to make some distinction in favour of the eldest son of liber
Ramond then moved to refer the petition to the extraordinary commission,
• " M. E. Gaudet, a lawyer, president of the criminal tribunal of the Gironde, waa deputed
by that department to the legislature, and was looked up to by the Girondists, as one of their
leaders. He voted for the death of Louis, but for delaying his execution. Involved in the
fall of his party, he was executed at Bordeaux in 17!)4, in the thirty-fifth year of his age.
When he was led to the scaffold, he wanted to harangue the people, but the roll of the drums
drowned his voice, and nothing could be heard but the words, ' People, behold the sole
resource of tyrants ! They drown the voices of free men that they may commit their crimes.'
Gaudet's father, who was seventy years old, his aunt, and his brother, perished a month after
him by the sentence of the military committee at Bordeaux." — Biographie Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 277
for the purpose of examining, not the conduct of Lafayette, but the petition
itself. After a great tumult and two divisions, Ramoud's motion was carried.
Lafayette left the Assembly surrounded by a numerous train of deputies and
soldiers of the national guard, all of them his partisans and his old com-
panions in arms.
This was the decisive moment for the court, for himself, and for the
popular party. He repaired to the palace. The most abusive expressions
, Mated around him among the groups of the courtiers. The King
and Queen received with coldness the man who came to devote himself for
ihi'iii. " Lafayette withdrew, mortified at the disposition which he had per-
ceived, not for his own sake, but for the sake of the royal family. On leav-
ing the Tuileries, a numerous concourse escorted him to his residence,
shouting " Long live Lafayette !" and even planted a May before his gate.
Those demonstrations of old attachment touched the general and intimidated
the Jacobins. But it was requisite to take advantage of these feelings of
attachment and to rouse them still more, m order to render them efficacious.
Some officers of the national guard, particularly devoted to the court, applied
to it, inquiring how they ought to act. The King and Queen were both of
opinion that they ought not to second M. Lafayette.t He thus found him-
self forsaken by the only portion of the national guard from which he could
still have expected support. Anxious, nevertheless, to serve the King, in
spite of himself, he consulted his friends. But these were not agreed.
Some, and particularly Lally Tollendal, were for acting prompdy against thei
Jacobins, and attacking them by main force in their club. Others, all mem-'
bers of the department and of the Assembly, supporting themselves con-
stantly by the authority of the law, and having no resources, but in it, would
not advise its violation, and opposed any open attack.
Lafayette, nevertheless, preferred the boldest of these two courses, and
appointed a rendezvous for his partisans, for the purpose of going with them
to drive the Jacobins from their place of meeting and walling up the "doors.
But though the place for assembling was fixed, few attended, and Lafayette
found it impossible to act. Whilst, however, he was deeply mortified to
perceive that he was so ill supported, the Jacobins, ignorant of the defection
of his partisans, were seized with a panic and abandoned their club. They
ran to Dumouriez4 who had not yet set out for the army, and urged him to
put himself at their head and to march against Lafayette ; but their applica-
tion was not complied with. Lafayette staid another day in Paris, amidst
denunciations, threats, and hints of assassination, and at length departed,
lamenting the uselessness of his self-devotion and the fatal obstinacy of the
• "The debate was not closed, when Lafayette repaired to the King. The royal family
were assembled together, and the King and Queen both repeated that they were convinced
there was no safety for them but in the constitution. Never did Louis appear to oxpress
himself with more thorough conviction than on this occasion. He added that he considered
it would be very fortunate if the Austrians were defeated. It so happened that the King was
next day to review four thousand men of the national guard. Lafayette asked permission to
accompany him, apprizing him, at the same time, of his intention, as soon as his majesty had
retired, of addressing the troops, liut the court did everything in its power to thwart La-
fayeUe, and Petion the mayor countermanded the review an hour before daybreak."—
Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
+ See Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 221, a letter from M. Lally to the King of Prussia,
and all the historians.
$ " Dumouriez survived the troubles of the Revolution many years. He spent some time
in Germany ; and lived in retirement latterly at Turville Park, near Henley-upon-Tliames,
where he died March 14, 1823, in his eighty-fifth year. He was a man of pleusing manners,
and lively conversation." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
2 A
278 HISTORY OF THE
court. And yet this same man, so completely forsaken when he had come
to expose his own life to save the King, has been accused of having betray til
him ! The writers of the court have asserted that his means were ill com-
bined. No doubt it was easier and safer, at least in appearance, to employ
eighty thousand Prussians ; but in Paris, and with the determination not to
call in foreigners, what more could he do than put himself at the head of the
national guard, and overawe the Jacobins, by dispersing them !
Lafayette set out with the design of still serving the King, and contriving,
if possible, means for his quitting Paris. He wrote a letter to the Assem-
bly, in which he repeated with still greater energy all that he had himself
said against what he called the factious.
No sooner was the popular party relieved from the fears occasioned by
the presence and the plans of the general, than it continued its attacks upon
the court, and persisted in demanding a strict account of the means which
it was adopting for preserving the territory. It was already known, though
the executive power had not yet made any communication on the subject to
the Assembly, that the Prussians had broken the neutrality, and that they
were advancing by Coblentz, to the number of eighty thousand men, all old
soldiers of the great Frederick, and commanded by the Duke of Brunswick,
a celebrated general.* Luckner, who had too few troops and could not
fully rely on the Belgians, had been obliged to retire upon Lille and A'alen-
ciennes. An officer, in retreating from Courtray, had burned the suburbs
of the town, and it was conceived that the aim of this cruel measure was to
alienate the Belgians. The government did nothing to reinforce the armies,
which amounted at the utmost, on the three frontiers, to two hundred and
thirty thousand men. It resorted to none of those mighty schemes which
rouse the zeal and the enthusiasm of a nation. The enemy, in short, might
be in Paris in six weeks.
The Queen reckoned upon this result, and mentioned it in confide)
one of her ladies. She had the route of the emigrants and the King of
Prussia. She knew that on such a day they would he at Verdun, on such
a one at Lille, and that they were to lay siege to the latter place. That un-
fortunate princess hoped, she said, to be delivered in a month. t "Why.
alas ! did she not believe the sincere friends who represented to her the in-
conveniences of foreign aid, and told her that this aid would be vmA
that it would arrive soon enough to compromise, but not soon enough to
save her! Why did she not believe her own fears on this point and the
gloomy forebodings which sometimes overwhelmed her ! Why, in short,
did she not spare herself a fault, and many misfoYtUm
We have seen that the measure to which the national party clung DMMl
tenaciously was a reserve of twenty thousand men below Paris. The King,
•" Charles William Ferdinand, Duke of Brunswick, was born in 1735. He was the
eldest son of the reigning duke, and a sister of Frederick the Great The seven years' war
afforded him the first opportunity of cultivating his military talents. In 1756 he decided the
victory of Crefcld, and took the most active part in all the enterprises of his uncle Ferdinand.
In 1764 he married the Princess Augusta of England. High expectations were entertained
of him, when the wars of the French Revolution broke out The duke received the chief
command of the Austrian and Prussian armies, and issued at Coblentz, in 1792, the famous
manifesto drawn up in a haughty style by a Frenchman, De Limon. The duke considered
the expressions too strong, and some of the severest passages were expunged. He continued
to labour for the welfare of his country until 1806, when he was placed at the head of the
Prussian army. He was mortally wounded in that year, and died at Ottenaen, neax
Altona." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
1 8ee Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 230.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 279
as we have shown, was adverse to this plan. He was summoned, in the
person of his ministers, to state what precautions had heen taken in the
place of those proposed in the decree to which, he had refused his sanction.
tie answered by proposing a new project, which consisted in directing upon
Soissons a reserve of forty-two battalions of national volunteers, to supply
the place of die old reserve, which had been exhausted in completing the
two principal armies. This was as nearly as possible the first decree ; with
this difference that the camp of reserve should be formed between Paris and
the frontiers, and not near Paris itself. This plan was received with mur-
murs and referred to the military committee.
Several departments and municipalities, excited by their correspondence
with Paris, had subsequently resolved to carry into execution the decree
for a camp of twenty thousand men, though it was not sanctioned. The
departments of the Pouches du Rhone, la Gironde, and l'Herault, set the
first example ; which was soon followed by others. Such was the com-
mencement of the insurrection.
As soon as intelligence of these spontaneous levies was received, the
Assembly, modifying the plan of the forty-two new battalions proposed by
the King, decreed that the battalions, whose zeal should have led them to
march before they were legally called upon, should pass througli Paris for
the purpose of being inscribed at the municipality of that city ; that they
should then proceed to Soissons, to be there encamped ; and lastly, that
those who should happen to be in Paris on the 14th of July, the anniversary
of the Federation, should attend that national solemnity. It had not been
held in 1791, on account of the flight to Varennes, and it was determined
that it should be celebrated in 1792 with eclat. The Assembly added that,
immediately after this festival, tire federalists should march off to the place
of their destination.
This was at once authorizing insurrection, and reviving, with some trifling
variation, the unsanctioned decree. The oidy difference was that the
federalists should merely pass through Paris. But the grand point was to
bring them thither ; and, when once there, a thousand circumstances might
arise to detain them. The decree was immediately sent to the King, and
sanctioned on the following day.
To this important measure was added another. A distrust was felt of
part of the national guards, and particularly of the staffs, which, after the
example of the departmental directories, the nearer they approached in rank
to superior authority the more they were disposed in its favour. It was
especially the national guard of Paris at which the blow was aimed ; but it
could not be struck directly, and therefore it was decreed that all the staffs
in towns containing upwards of fifty thousand inhabitants should be dissolved
and re-elected. In die agitated state in which France then was, with the
constandy increasing influence which this agitation insured to the most
ardent spirits, this re-election could not fail to bring forward persons devoted
to the popular and republican party.
These were important measures, carried by main force, in opposition to
the right side and to the court. Yet all this did not appear to the patriots
to fortify them sufliciendy against the imminent dangers by which they con-
ceived themselves to be threatened. Forty thousand Prussians, and as many i
Austrians and Sardinians, were approaching our frontiers. A court, appa- I
rently in concert with the enemy, resorted to no means for augmenting the
armies and exciting the nation, but on the contrary employed the veto to
thwart the measures of the legislative body, and the civil list to secure par-
230
HISTORY OF THE
asans in the interior. Lastly, there was a general, who was not supposed
to be capable of uniting with the emigrants to deliver up France, but who
was seen to be disposed to support the court against the people. All these
circumstances alarmed and deeply agitated the public mind. " The country
is in danger !" was the general cry. But how was that danger to be pre-
vented? There lay the difficulty. People were not even agreed respect-
ing the causes. The constitutionalists and the partisans of the court, as
much terrified as the patriots themselves, imputed the dangers to the fac-
tious only. They trembled only for royalty, and saw no peril but in dis-
cussion. The patriots, trembling for a contrary reason, beheld this peril
in invasion alone, and laid the whole blame of it on the court, its refusals,
its tardiness, and its underhand proceedings. Petitions continued to pour
in. Some attributed every thing to the Jacobins, others to the court,
designated alternately by the appellations of the palace, the executive, poi
and the veto. The Assembly listened to and referred them all to the extra-
ordinary commission of twelve, appointed long before to seek and propose
means for saving the country.
Its plan was awaited with impatience. Meanwhile all the walls were
covered with threatening placards ; the public papers, not less bold than the
posting bills, talking of nothing but forfeiture of the crown and dethrone-
ment. This was the topic of general conversation, and no moderation
seemed to be observed but in the Assembly. There the attacks against
royalty were yet only indirect. It had been proposed, for example, to sup-
press the veto for decrees of circumstance ; observations had several times
been made on the civil list, and on the culpable use that was made of it; and
it had been suggested that it should either be reduced, or that a public ac-
count of its expenditure should be demanded.
At length, the commission of twelve proposed its measures. The court
had never refused to comply with the recommendations of the Assembly
materially to augment the means of defence. It could not have done so
without compromising itself too openly ; and, besides, it could not much
dread the numerical increase of armies which it believed to be in a state of
complete disorganization.
The popular party desired, on the contrary, some of those extraordinary-
means, which indicate a great resolution, and which frequently confer victory
on the most desperate cause. The commission of twelve devised such, and
proposed to the Assembly the following plan :
When the danger should become extreme, the legislative body was itself
to declare it by this solemn form of expression: The country is in
danger.
After this declaration, all the local authorities, the councils of the com*
munes, those of the districts and departments, and the Assembly itself, as
the highest of the authorities, were to be permanent and to sit without in-
terruption. All the citizens, under the severest penalties, were to deliver to
the authorities the arms which they possessed, with a view to their suitable
distribution. All the men, old and young, fit for service, were to be enrolled
in the national guards. Some were to proceed to the seats of the ditlerent
authorities of districts or departments ; others to march whithersoever the
exigencies of the country required, either at home or abroad. Those only
should be expected to appear in uniform who were able to defray the ex-
pense of it. The pay of volunteers was to be given to all the national
guards who should be removed from their homes. The authorities were to
be directed to provide themselves with military stores. Any sign of rebellion,
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
281
Wilfully displayed, was to be punished with death. Every cockade, every
flag, was to be reputed seditious, excepting the tricoloured cockade and flag.
According to this plan, the whole nation would be on the alert and in
arms. It would possess the means of deliberating and fighting at every
point and it every moment : and would be able to dispense with the govern-
ment and to make amends for its inactivity. That aimless agitation of the
popular masses would be regulated and directed. If, in short, after this
appeal, the French should fail to respond to it, the Assembly could not be
expected to do any more for a nation which would not do anything for itself.
This plan gave rise, as might naturally be expected, to a most vehement
discussion.
Pastoret,* the deputy, read the preliminary report. It satisfied no one;
imputing faults to all, balancing some by others ; and not fixing in a positive
manner the means of parrying the public dangers. After him, Jean de Bry
explained clearly and with moderation the plan of the commission. The
sion, once commenced, soon became a mere exchange of recrimina-
tions. It afforded scope for those impetuous imaginations, which rush
headlong into extreme measures. The great law of the public welfare, that
is to say, die dictatorship — in other words, the power of doing everything,
with the chance of using it cruelly but energetically — that power which
could by right he decreed oidy in the Convention, was nevertheless proposed
in the Legislative.
M. Delaunay of Angers proposed to the Assembly to declare that, till the
removal of the danger, it would consult only the imperative and supreme
law of the public welfare. This would have been, by an abstract and mys-
terious formula, evidently to abolish royalty and to declare the Assembly
absolute sovereign. M. Delaunay said that the Revolution was not com-
pleted ; that people were mistaken if they thought so ; and that it was right
to keep fixed laws for the Revolution saved and not the Revolution to be
saved. He said, in short, all that is usually said in favour of the dictator-
ship, die idea of which always presents itself in moments of danger. The
r of the deputies of the right side was natural. " They should vio-
late," they said, " the oaths taken to the constitution, by creating an
authority that would absorb the regulated and established powers." Their
adversaries replied, by saying that the example of violation was already
given, and that they ought not to suffer themselves to be anticipated and
surprised without defence. " But, prove then," rejoined the partisans of
the court, " that this example has been given, that the constitution has been
betrayed." This challenge was answered by fresh accusations against the
court, and these charges were repelled in their turn by recriminations against
>rs. " You are factious men." — "You are traitors." Such was the
reciprocal and everlasting reproach — such the question to be resolved.
So violent did ]\{^Jaucour deem the proposal, that he was for referring it
to the Jacobins. M. IsnarcT, with whose ardour it harmonized, urged that
it should be taken into consideration, and that the speech of M. Delaunay
should be sent to the departments, to counterpoise that of M. Pastoret,
t
• "Pierre Pastoret, born at Marseilles in 1756, was an advocate before the Revolution,
which he embraced with ardour. Having luckily survived the reign of terror, he was in
1795 delegated from Var to the Council of Five Hundred, where he became one of the
firmest defenders of the Clichyan party. In 1804 he was appointed professor of the laws
of man and nations, in the college of France ; and was made a member of the Institute and
the Legion of Honour. He was the author of several works, both in prose and verse,
written with eloquence and perspicuity." — Biographic Madame. E.
vol. i. — 36 2 a 2
282 HISTORY OF THE
which was but a dose of opium given to a patient in the agonies of
death.
M. de Vaublanc succeeded in obtaining a hearing. He said that the con-
stitution could save itself by the constitution ; that the plan of M. Jean de
Bry was a proof of this ; that it was right to print the speech of M. De-
launay, if they so pleased, but at any rate not to send it to the departments ;
and that they ought to return to the proposal of the commission. The dis-
cussion was accordingly adjourned till the 3d of July.
One deputy had not yet spoken. This was Vergniaud. A member of
the Gironde, and its most eloquent orator, he was nevertheless independent.
Whether from thoughtlessness or from real elevation, he seemed to be above
the passions of his friends ; and, in sharing their patriotic ardour, he did
not always share their prepossessions and their vehemence.* When he had
made up his mind upon a question, he carried along with him by his elo-
quence and a certain acknowledged impartiality, that floating portion of the
Assembly, which Mirabeau had formerly hurried away by his reasoning
and his warmth. Wavering masses are everywhere decided by talents and
reason.t
It had been announced that he would speak on the 3d of July. An im-
mense concourse had assembled to hear this distinguished orator on a ques-
tion which was regarded as decisive. Accordingly, he did speak, and first
drew a sketch of the state of France. " If," said he,J " one did not believe
in the imperishable love of the people for liberty, one would doubt whether
the Revolution retrogrades or whether it is reaching its term. Our armies
of the North advanced into Belgium, and all at once they fell back. The
theatre of war is transferred to our territory, and we shall have left the un-
fortunate Belgians nothing but the remembrance of the conflagrations that
lighted our retreat. At the same time, a formidable army of Prussians is
threatening the Rhine, though we had been taught to hope that their pro-
gress would not be so rapid.
" How happens it that this moment should have been chosen for the dis-
missal of the popular ministers, for breaking the chain of their labours, for
committing the empire to inexperienced hands, and for rejecting the useful
measures which we have deemed it our duty to propose ? . . Can it be true
that a dread is felt of our triumphs ? Is it the blood of Coblentz or yours,
that there is a desire to spare ? Is there a wish to reign over forsaken towns
* " Vergniaud was an indolent man, and required to be stimulated ; but when once fairly
excited, his eloquence was true, forcible, penetrating, and sincere." — Dumoiit. E.
" I do not like Vergniaud, because he disdains men, does not put any restraint on himself
in bis intercourse with them, and has not employed bis talents with the ardour of a soul
devoted by the love of the public good, and with the tenacity of a diligent mind." — Madame
Roland's Memoirs. E.
Vergniaud was bom at Limoges in 1759. He projected the decree which pronounced the
suspension of the King, and the formation of the National Convention. He filled the chair
on the day of Louis's sentence, and voted for his death. He was condemned to death as a
Girondist, in 1793, and spent the night before his execution in discoursing with his friends
upon revolutions and governments. His speeches were always carefully prepared before-
hand. E.
| This is a justice done to Vergniaud by the Journal de Paris, at that time so celebrated
for its opposition to the majority of the Assembly, and for the extraordinary talents of its
conductors, especially of the unfortunate and immortal Andre Chenier. (See that paper of
the 4th of July, 1792.)
j It is scarcely necessary to observe that I here analyze Vergniaud's speech, but do not
give it verbatim.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 283
and devastated fields ? . . In short, where are we ? . . And you, gendemen,
what grand work are you about to undertake for the public weal ?
" You, whom some flatter themselves that they have intimidated : you,
whose consciences they flatter themselves that they have alarmed by stigma-
tizing your patriotism as the spirit of faction, as if those who took the oath
in the Tennis Court had not also been called factious : you, who have been
so slandered, because you belong not to a proud caste which the constitution
has thrown down in the dust : you, to whom are imputed guilty intentions,
as if, invested with a power different from that of the law, you had a civil
list : you, whose concern for the dangers of the people a hypocritical mode-
ration hoped to cool : you, whom means have been found to divide, but who,
in this moment of danger, will lay aside your animosities, your paltry dis-
sensions, and not find it so delightful to hate one another as to prefer that
infernal pleasure to the welfare of the country ; — you, finally, hearken to
me! What are your resources? What does necessity command you?
"What does the constitution permit you to do ?"
During this exordium, loud applause drowned the voice of the speaker.
He continued his speech, and exhibited two kinds of dangers, the one inter-
nal, the other external.
" To remove the former, the Assembly had proposed a decree against the
priests, and, whether the spirit of a Medicis still flits beneath the vaults of
the Tuileries, or a Lachaise or a Letellier still disturbs the heart of the
prince, the decree has been rejected by the throne. It is not possible to
believe, without doing the King injustice, that he wishes for religious distur-
bances ! He fancies himself then sufficiently powerful — he has then ancient
laws enough — to insure the public tranquillity. Let his ministers then
answer for it with their heads, since they have the means of insuring it !
" To provide against external dangers, the Assembly conceived the idea
of a camp of reserve. The King rejected it. It would be doing him injustice
to suppose that he wishes to deliver up France to the enemy ; he must
therefore have forces sufficient to protect it ; his ministers therefore ought to
answer to us with their heads for the salvation of the country."
Thus far the speaker confines himself, as we see, to the ministerial re-
sponsibility, and strives to exhibit it under the most threatening aspect.
" But," added he, " to throw the ministers into the abyss which their malice
or their imbecility has opened, is not all . . Listen to me calmly ; be in no
hurry to anticipate what I am about to say.
At these words the attention of his auditors was redoubled. Profound
silence pervaded the Assembly. "It is in the name of the King,''1 said he,
" that the French princes have endeavoured to raise Europe against us. Jt
is to avenge the dignity of the King that the treaty of Pilnitz has been con-
cluded. It is to come to the aid of the King that the sovereign of Hungary
and Bohemia makes war upon us, that Prussia is marching towards our
frontiers. Now, I read in the constitution : 'If the King puts himself at the
head of an army and directs its forces against the nation, or if he does not
oppose by a formal act an enterprise of this kind that may be executed in
his name, he shall be considered as having abdicated royalty.'
** What is a formal act of opposition ? If one hundred thousand Austrians
were marching towards Flanders, and one hundred thousand Prussians to-
wards Alsace, and the King were to oppose to them ten or twenty thousand
men. would he have done a formal act of opposition ?
" If the King, whose duty it is to notify imminent hostilities, apprized of
the movements of the Prussian army, were not to communicate any informa-
284 HISTORY OF THE
tion on the subject to the National Assembly; if a camp of reserve, neces-
sary for stopping the progress of the enemy into the interior, were proposed,
and the King were to substitute in its stead an uncertain plan which it would
take a long time to execute ; if the King were to leave the command of an
army to an intriguing general, of whom the nation was suspicious ; if another
general, bred afar from the corruption of courts and familiar with victory,
were to demand a reinforcement, and the King were by a refusal to say to
him; I forbid thee to conquer — could it be asserted that the King had com-
mitted a formal act of opposition ?
" I have exaggerated several circumstances," resumed Vergniaud, " to
take away every pretext for explanations purely hypothetical. But if, while
France was swimming in blood, the King were to say to you, * It is true
that the enemies pretend to be acting for me, for my dignity, for my rights,
but I have proved that I am not their accomplice. I have sent armies into the
field ; these armies were too weak, but the constitution does not fix the degree
of their force. I have assembled them too late, but the constitution does not fix
the time for collecting them. I have stopped a general who was on the point
of conquering, but the constitution does not order victories. I have had
ministers, who deceived the Assembly, and disorganized the government,
but their appointment belonged to me. The Assembly has passed useful
decrees which I have not sanctioned, but I had a right to act so. I have
done all that the constitution enjoined me. It is therefore impossible to
doubt my fidelity to it.' (Vehement applause here burst from all quarters.)
" If then," continued Vergniaud, " the King were to hold this language,
should you not have a right to reply ; ' 0 King, who, like Lysander, the
tyrant, have believed that truth was not worth more than falsehood — who
have feigned a love for the laws merely to preserve the power which enabled
you to defy them — was it defending us to oppose to the foreign soldiers
forces whose inferiority left not even uncertainty as to their defeat? Was it
defending us, to thwart plans tending to fortify the interior? Was it de-
fending us, not to check a general who violated the constitution, but to
enchain the courage of those who were serving it ? Did the constitution
leave you the choice of the ministers for our prosperity or for our ruin ? Did
it make you the head of the army for our glory or our disgrace ? Did it
finally confer on you the right of sanction, a civil list, and so many prei
tives, in order constitutionally to undo the constitution of the empire ?
no ! Man, in whom the generosity of the French has excited no correspond-
ing feeling, insensible to everything but the love of despotism, you arc
henceforth nothing to that constitution which you Have so unworthily violated
— to that people whom you have so basely betrayed !'
"But no," resumed the speaker, "if our armies are not complete, the
King assuredly is not to blame for this ; no doubt he will take the neces
measures for saving us ; no doubt the march of the Prussians will not be so
triumphant as they hope ; but it was requisite to foresee everything and to
say everything, for frankness alone can save us."
j ,V_ergniaud concluded by proposing a message to Louis XVI., firm but
respectful; Which should oblige him to chouse bullPtNl l'Y.uxv rod fbfNgMIt,
j and teach him that the French were resolved to perish or triumph with the
I constitution. He wished also that the Assembly should declare the country
I in danger, in order to awaken in hearts those mighty affections which have
' animated mighty nations, and which no doubt would be found in the French ;
"for," said he, " it will not be in the regenerated French of 89 that Nature
will show herself degenerated." He wished, finally, that an end should be
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 265
put to dissensions which began to assume a sinister character, and that they
snould reunite those who were in Rome and on Mount Aventine.
As he uttered these last words, the voice* of the speaker faltered, and the
>n was general. The tribunes, the left side, in short, all applauded.
Yurgniaud left the tribune, and was surrounded by a crowd, who thronged
to congnia'pte him. He alone had dared to speak to the Assembly con-
ceming the forfeiture of the crown, which was a general topic of conversa-
tion in public ; but he had presented the subject only in an hypothetical
maimer, and clothed in forms still respectful, when compared with the lan-
gqafQ suggested by the passions of the time.
Dumas came forward to reply. He attempted to speak extempore after
Veargniaud, before auditors, still full of the feelings that he had excited. He
1 times claimed silence and an attention which it was not in his power
to gain, lie animadverted on the reproaches urged against the executive
DOwer. " The retreat of Luckner," said he, " is owing to the chance of bat-
rhjch cannot be governed in the recesses of cabinets. Assuredly you
•nfidence in Luckner?" Cries of "Yes! yes!" were the answer;
and Kersaint proposed a decree declaring that Luckner had retained the na-
tional confidence. The decree was passed, and Dumas proceeded. He ob-
served very justly that, if they had confidence in that general, they could not
consider the fntention of his retreat as culpable or suspicious: that, as for
nt of forces which was complained of, the marshal himself knew that
all the troops then disposable were assembled for this enterprize ; that, more-
over, everything must have been already prepared by the old Girondin mi-
nistry, the author of the offensive warfare ; and that, if the means were inade-
quate, that ministry alone was to blame; that the new ministers could not
possibly repair all that was defective by a few couriers ; and lastly, that they
had given carte blanche to Luckner, and had left him the power to act ac-
cording to circumstances and local situation.
"The camp of twenty thousand men has been rejected," added Dumas,
" but, in the first place, the ministers are not responsible for the veto, and, in
the next, the plan which they substituted in its stead was far preferable to
that proposed by the Assembly, because it did not paralyze the means of re-
cruiting. The decree against the priests has been rejected, but there is no
need of new laws to insure the public tranquillity. Nothing is wanting but
quiet, security, respect for individual liberty, and liberty of conscience.
Wherever these liberties have been respected, the priests have not been se-
ditious." Dumas concluded with justifying the King, by objecting that he
had not wished for war, and Lafayette by reminding the Assembly that he
had always been a lover of liberty.
The decree proposed by the commission of twelve, for arranging the forms
according to which the country should be declared in danger, was passed
amidst the most vehement applause. But the declaration of danger was ad-
journed, because it was not thought right as yet to proclaim it. The King,
no doubt excited by all that had been said, notified to the Assembly the im-
minent hostilities with Prussia, which he grounded on the convention of Pil-
nitz, on the favourable reception given to the rebels, on the acts of violence
committed upon French mercantile men, on the dismissal of our minister,
and the departure of the Prussian ambassador from Paris; lasdy, on the
march of the Prussian troops to the number of fifty-two thousand men.
"Everything proves to me," added die King's message, "an alliance be-
tween Vienna and Berlin. (There was a laugh at these words.) Agreeably
to the terms of the constitution, I give this intimation of it to the legislative
286 HISTORY OF THE
body." — "Yes," replied several voices, "when the Prussians are at Co-
blentz." The message was referred to the commission of twelve.
The discussion relative to the forms of the declaration of the country in
danger was continued. It was decreed that this declaration should be con-
tinued as a simple proclamation, and that consequently it should not be sub-
ject to the royal sanction, which was not quite just, since it comprehended
legislative clauses, but, without meaning to proclaim it, the Assembly already
followed the law of the public welfare.
The discussions were daily increasing in violence. The wish of Vergni-
aud to unite those who were in Rome and on Mount Aventine was not ful-
. rilled ; the fear which each excited in the other was changed into irrecon-
cilable hatred.
There was in the Assembly a deputy named^ljamourette,* constitutional
Bishop of Lyons, who had never considered liberty in any other light th;m
as a return to primitive fraternity, and who was as much grieved as astonished
at the divisions of his colleagues. He did not believe that the one harboured
any real hatred against the others. He supposed that all of them merely
entertained unjust suspicions. On the 7th of July, at the moment when the
discussion on the country in danger was about to be resumed, he asked leave
to speak for the purpose of a motion to order ; and addressing his colleagues
in the most persuasive tone and with the noblest aspect, he told them that
terrible measures were every day proposed to them in order to put an end to
the danger of the country ; that, for his part, he had faith in milder and more
efficacious means. It was the disunion among the representatives that was
the cause of all the evils, and to this disunion it behoved them to apply a
remedy. "Oh!" exclaimed the worthy prelate, "he who should succeed
in reconciling you, that man would be the real conqueror of Austria and of
Coblentz. It is daily alleged that, at the point to which things have been
carried, your reunion is impossible. Ah ! I tremble at the thought . . . but
this is a calumny. There is nothing irreconcilable but guilt and virtue. Good
men dispute warmly, because they are impressed with the sincere conviction
of the correctness of their opinions, but they cannot hate one another. Gen-
tlemen, the public weal is in your hands. Why do you delay carrying it
into operation?
"What is it that the two portions of the Assembly charge each other with ?
One accuses the other of wishing to modify the constitution by the hands of
foreigners ; and the latter accuses the former of striving to overthrow the
monarchy for the purpose of establishing a republic. Well, gentlemen, hurl
one and the same anathema against a republic and the two chambers. De-
vote them to general execration by a last and irrevocable oath ! Let us swear
to have but one spirit, but one sentiment. Let us swear everlasting frater-
nity ! Let the enemy know that what we will, we all will, and the country
is saved!"
Scarcely had the speaker finished these concluding words, when both sides
of the Assembly rose, applauding his generous sentiments, and eager to rid
themselves of the burden of their reciprocal animosities. Amidst universal
acclamations, they devoted to public execration any project for changing the
constitution either by two chambers or by a republic ; and the members
rushed from the opposite benches to embrace one another. Those who hud
• " After the dissolution of the Legislative Assembly, Lamourette went to Lyons, and con-
tinued there during the scige. He was afterwards conducted to Paris, condemned to death,
and decapitated in 1794. He was the author of several religious works." — Scott's Life of
Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 287
attacked and those who had defended Lafayette, the veto, the civil list, the
factions, and tln> traitors, were clasped in each others' arms. All distinc- 1
tion> md Messrs. Pastoret and Condorcet, who the day before werel
loading one another with abuse in the public papers, were seen locked in J
each other's embrace. There was no longer any right or left side, and all
the deputies sat indiscriminately together. Dumas was beside Basire, Jau-
court next to Merlin, and Ramond by Chabot.
It was immediately decided that they should inform the provinces, the i
army, and the King, of this happy event. A deputation, headed by Lamou- I
rette, repaired to the palace. Lamourette returned, announcing the intention
of the King to come, as on the 4th of February, 1790, to express his satis-
faction to the Assembly, and to assure it that he was sorry he had to wait
for a deputation, for he was most anxious to hasten into the midst of it.
The enthusiasm was increased to the highest pitch by these words, and if
the unanimous cry might be credited, the country was saved. Was it, then,
that a King and eight hundred hypocritical deputies had suddenly formed the
plan of deceiving each other, and feigning an oblivion of injuries, that they
mighl afterwards betray one another with the greater certainty? No, as-
suredly not. Such a plan is not formed among so great a number of persons,
and all at once, without premeditation. But hatred is burdensome ; it is a
relief to get rid of the weight of it ; and, moreover, at the prospect of the
most threatening events, which party was it that, in the uncertainty of vic-
tory, would not gladly have consented to keep the present as it was, pro-
vided that it were insured to them ? This fact demonstrates that distrust and
fear produced all the animosities, that a moment of confidence allayed them,
and that if the party called republican thought of a republic, it was not from
system but from despair. Why did not the King, on returning to his palace,
write immediately to Prussia and Austria ? Why did he not combine with
these secret measures some grand public measure? Why did he not say, I . .
like his ancestor Louis XIV., on the approach of the enemy, -JLet us all go!
But in the evening the Assembly was informed of the result of the pro-
ceedings instituted by the department against Petion and Manuel ; and this
result was the suspension of those two magistrates. From what has since
been learned from the lips of Petion himself, it is probable that he could
have prevented the commotion of the 20th of June, since he afterwards pre-
vented others. In fact, his real sentiments were not then known, but it
was strongly presumed that he had connived with the agitators. There
were moreover some infringements of the law to lay to his charge. He
was reproached, for instance, with having been extremely dilatory in his
communications to the different authorities, and with having suffered the
council of the commune to pass a resolution (arrete) contrary to that of the
department, in deciding that the petitioners should be admitted into the ranks
of the national guard. The suspension pronounced by the department was,.
therefore, legal and courageous, but impolitic. After the reconciliation of
the morning, was it not, in fact, the height of imprudence to signify, in the
evening of the very same day, the suspension of two magistrates enjoying
the greatest popularity ? The King, indeed, referred the matter to the As-
sembly ; but, without betraying its dissatisfaction, it sent back the decision
to him that he might himself pronounce upon it. The tribunes recommenced
their usual cries ; a great number of petitions were presented, demanding
Petion or death; and Grangeneuve, the deputy, who had been personally
insulted, insisted on a report against the perpetrator of the outrage. Thus
the reconciliation was already forgotten. Brissot, to whose turn it had come
288 HISTORY OF THE
to speak on the question of the public danger, solicited time to modify the
expressions of his speech, on account of the reconciliation which had since
taken place. Nevertheless, he could not abstain from enumerating all the
instances of neglect and tardiness laid to the charge of the court ; and, in
spite of the pretended reconciliation, he concluded with proposing that the
question of the forfeiture of the crown should be solemnly discussed ; that
ministers should be impeached for having so long delayed to notify the hos-
tilities of Prussia ; that a secret commission of seven members should be
appointed and charged to attend to the public welfare ; that the property of
the emigrants should be sold ; that the organization of the national guards
should be accelerated ; and, lastly, that the Assembly should forthwith de-
clare the country to be in danger.
Intelligence was at the same time received of the conspiracy of Dessail-
lant, one of the late noblesse, who, at the head of a party of insurgents, had
gained possession of the fort of Bannes, in the department of the Ardeche,
and thence threatened the whole surrounding country. The disposition of
the powers was also reported to the Assembly by the ministers. The house
of Austria, influencing Prussia, had induced it to march against France ; the
pupils of the great Frederick nevertheless murmured against this impolitic
alliance. The electorates were all our open or concealed enemies. Russia
had been the first to declare against the Revolution ; she had acceded to the
treaty of Pilnitz ; she had flattered the projects of Gustavus and seconded
the emigrants ; and all to deceive Prussia and Austria, and to urge them
both on against France, whilst she acted against Poland. At that moment
she was treating with Messrs. de Nassau and d'Esterhazy, leaders of the
emigrants ; but, notwithstanding her magnificent promises, she had merely
furnished them with a frigate, to rid herself of their presence at St. Peters-
burg. Sweden was immoveable since the death of Gustavus and admitted
our ships. Denmark promised a strict neutrality. We might consider our-
selves as being at war with the court of Turin. The Pope was preparing
his thunderbolts. Venice was neutral, but seemed disposed to protect
Trieste with its navy. Spain, without entering openly into the coalition,
appeared not unwilling to adhere to the family compact, and to return to
France the aid which she had received from her.
England promised neutrality and gave fresh assurances of it. The
United States would gladly have assisted us with all their means ; but those
means were then null, on account of their distance and their thin population.
Immediately after the communication of this report, the Assembly was
for declaring the country in danger : but that declaration was postponed till
after the presentation of a new report from all the committees united. On
the 11th, after this report had been read, amidst profound silence, the presi-
dent pronounced the solemn formula, Citizens, thk country is in danger !
From that moment the sittings were declared permanent. The discharge
of cannon, fired from moment to moment, proclaimed this important crisi>.
All the municipalities, all the district and departmental councils, sat without
interruption. All the national guards put themselves in motion. Amphi-
theatres were erected in the public places, and there the municipal officers
received, upon a table borne by drummers, the names of those who came
voluntarily to enrol themselves. The number enrolled amounted to fifteen
thousand in one day.*
• " While the minds of men were wound up to the highest pitch by inflammatory
harangues, the committees to whom it had been remitted to report on the state of the country,
published the solemn declaration, " Citizens, the country is in danger .'" Minute guns
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 289
The reconciliation of the 7th of July and the oath which followed, had not,
as ire bavi n, dispelled any distrust. People were still devising
means to protect themselves against the designs of the palace, and the idea
of declaring that the King had forfeited the crown, or of forcing him to ab-
dicate, presented itself to every mind as Uu; only possible remedy lor the
evils which threatened France. Vergniaud had merely pointed hypothett-
eally to this idea , hut Others, especially Torne\ the deputy, were desirous
that this supposition of Vergniaud should be considered as reality. Peti-
tions poured in from every part of Prance, to lend the aid of public opinion
to this desperate scheme of the patriotic deputies.
The city of .Marseilles had previously presented a threatening petition,
read to the Assembly on the 10th of .lime, and the substance of which has
been already given. At the moment when the country was declared in
danger, several others were received. One of them proposed to accuse
Lafayette, to suppress the veto in certain cases, to reduce the civil list, and
to reinstate Manuel and Petion in their municipal functions. Another de-
manded, together with the suppression of the veto, the publicity of the coun-
cils. Hut the city of Marseilles, which had set the first example of these
: boldness, soon carried them to the utmost excess. It presented an
address, recommending to the Assembly to abolish royalty in the reigning
branch, and to substitute in its stead a merely elective royalty and without
veto, that is to say, a purely extCUtivt magistracy, as in republics. The
stupor produced by the reading of this, address was soon followed by the
applause of the tribunes ; and a motion for printing it was made by a mem-
ber of the Assembly. The address was, nevertheless, referred to the com-
mission of twelve, that the law declaring infamous every plan for alteriug
the constitution might be applied to it.
Consternation pervaded the court. It pervaded also the patriotic party,
which bold petitions were far from cheering. The King conceived that
violence was intended against bis person. He attributed the events of the
20th of June to a scheme for murdering him, which had miscarried ; but he
ssuredly wrong, for nothing could have been easier than the consum-
mation of that crime, if it had been projected. He was fearful of being
poisoned, and himself and his family took their meals with a lady in the
Queen's confidence, where they ate of different dishes from those which
were prepared in the offices of the palace. • As the anniversary of the Fe-
announced to the inhabitants of the capital this solemn appeal, which called on every one to
lay down his life on behalf of the state. Pikes were distributed to all those not possessed
of tirelocks; battalions of volunteers formed in the public squares, and standards were dis-
played in conspicuous situations, with the words, ' Citizens, the country is in danger !'
These measures excited the Revolutionary ardour to the utmost degree. An universal
phren7.y seized the public mind. Many departments openly defied the authority of govern-
ment, and without anj orders sent their contingents to form the camp of twenty thousand
men near Paris. This was the commencement of the revolt which overturned the throne." — j
. E. '
* On the subject of the apprehensions of the royal family, Madame Campan relates as
follows :
" The police of M. de Laporte, intendant of. the civil list, apprized him, about the end of
1791, that one of the King's household, who had set up as a pastrycook in the Palais Royal,
had lately taken upon him the duties of an office which reverted to him on the death of the
that he was so outrageous a Jacobin as to have dared to assert that it would be
trreat benefit to France to put an end to the life of the King. His functions were
nrticles of pastry. He was closely watched by tfio principal officsn of
the kitchen, who were attached to his majesty ; but a subtile poison may be so easily intro-
duced into articles of food, that it was decided that the King and Queen should eat nothing
vol. i.— 37 2 B
+ %
290 HISTORY OF THE
deration wa3 approaching, the Queen caused a kind of breastplate, com-
posed of several folds of stuff, capable of resisting a first thrust of a d
to be made for the King. However, as time passed away, and the popular
audacity increased, without any attempt at assassination being made, the
King began to form a more correct notion of the nature of his danger ; and he
already perceived that it was not the point of a dagger, but a judicial con-
demnation, that he had to dread; and the fate of Charles I. continually
haunted his tortured imagination.
Lafayette, though repulsed by the court, had nevertheless resolved to save
the King. He therefore caused a plan of flight that was very boldly con-
ceived, to be submitted to him.* He had first gained over Luckner. and
but what was roasted ; that their bread should be supplied by M. Thierry, of Villi- <1 'Avray,
intendant of the petits appartemens, and that he should also furnish the wine. The King
was fond of pastry ; I was directed to order some, as if for myself, sometimes of otic ,
cook, sometimes of another. The grated sugar was likewise kept in my room. The King,
the Queen, and Madame Elizabeth dined together without any attendants. Each i
had a dumb-waiter of mahogany and a bell to ring when they wanted anything. M. Thierry
himself brought me the bread and wine for their majesties, and I locked up all these thing! 111
a particular closet in the King's cabinet, on the ground floor. As soon as the King
table, I brought the pastry and the bread. Everything was hid under the table, li
might be occasion to call in the attendants. The King thought that it was not leas danger-
ous than mortifying to show this apprehension of attempts against his person and this dis-
trust of the servants of his household. As he never drank a whole bottle of wine at dinner —
the princesses drank nothing but water — he half-tilled that from which he had been drinking
out of the bottle supplied by the officers of his establishment. I carried it away after dinner.
Though no pastry but that which I brought was ever eaten, care was taken to make it
appear as if some of that which had been set on the table had been used. The lady who
succeeded me found this secret service ready organized, and she executed it in the same
manner. The public was never acquainted with these precautions or the appreh
which had given rise to them. At the end of three or four months, the same polii
intimation that there was no longer any reason to fear a plot of this kind against the Knur's
life ; that the plan was completely changed ; that the blows intended to Ik- struck would be
directed as much against the throne as against the person of the sovereign." — Menwires de
Madame Campari, tome ii., p. 188.
* " The plan of flight was as follows ; The King accompanied by Lafayette was to have
gone to the National Assembly at midday, and announced his intention of spending some
days at Compiegne. On his arrival there with a small escort of Parisian national guards,
he could calculate on the national guard of Compiegne, and on two regiments of < •!
belonging to Lafayette's army, of whom the latter was perfectly sure. The officers of this
chosen body were to offer every kind of guarantee by their well-known patriotism and honour ;
and Brigadier-general Latour Maul>ourg, was to have taken the command. Thus surrounded,
the King, sheltered from all violence, and in a situation of his own choiee, would, of bis own
accord, have issued a proclamation, forbidding his brothers and the emigrants to advance a
step further ; announcing himself ready to go in person, if the Assembly approved of it,
against the enemy ; and declaring for the constitution in such terms as to leave not a shadow
of doubt as to his real intentions. Such a step might probably have enabled Louis to return
to Paris amid the universal acclamations of the people; but such a triumph would have been
the triumph of liberty, and therefore the court rejected it. Some of the King's |
friends left nothing untried to inspire him with confidence in Lafayette. With tears in their
eyes, they conjured him to comply with the counsels of the only man who could snatch him
from destruction. But his most influential advisers saw no chance for absolute royalty
save in anarchy and foreign invasion. Lafayette was thanked for his plan, which was
rejected; and when his aid-de-camp, Colombo, afterwards asked the Queen by what strange
infatuation she and the King had come to so fatal a decision, — ' We are very grateful to
your general,' was her reply, ' but the best thing that could happen to us, would Ik-, to be
confined for two months in a tower!' Lafayette knew well that, at the very moment when
he was offering the only chance of safety that remained to the royal family, memorials full of
asperity were, by the Queen's orders, composed against him; and that a part of t!
daily devoted to his defamation were paid for out of the civil list." — Lafayette's Memoin. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 291
had even extorted from the easy disposition of the old marshal a prom
march towards Paris. Lafayette proposed that the Kino should >end for
him and Luckncr, upon pretext oi' attending the Federation. The presence
of two <renerals might, he thought, overawe the people, and prevent the
dangere which were apprehended from that day. Lafayette further pro-
posed that, the day after the ceremony, Louis XVI. should publicly leave
Paris, professedly with the intention of going to Compiegne, in order to
exhibit a proof of his liberty to all Europe. Incase of opposition, he asked
for no more than fifty trusty horse, to carry him off from Paris. From
Compiegne, squadrons kept in readiness were to conduct him to the French
armies, where Lafayette would depend on his sincerity for the mainti
of the new institutions. Lastly, in case none of these schemes should suc-
ceed, the general had determined to march with all his troops to Pari.~.
• When M. de Lafayette was confined at Olmiitz, M. tie Lally-Tollendal wrote in his
behalf a very eloquent letter to the King of Prussia. He there recapitulated all that the
general had done to save Louis XVI. and adduced proofs in confirmation. Among these
documents were the following letters, which afford an insight into the plans and the efforts
of the constitutionalists at this period:
Copy of a Letter from M. de Lally-Tollendal to the King.
Paris, Monday, July 9, 1792.
I am charged by M. Lafayette to propose directly to his majesty, for the 15th of this month,
the same plan, which he had proposed for the 12th, and which cannot now be carried into
execution on that day, on account of the promise given by his majesty to attend the cere-
mony of the 14th.
His majesty must have seen the plan sent by M. Lafayette, for M. Duport was to carry it
to If, Montciel that he might show it to his majesty.
M. Lafayette means to be here on the loth; he will have with him old General Luckner.
They have just had a meeting ; both have promised, and both have one and the same feeling
and one and the same design.
They propose that his majesty shall puhlicly leave the city between them, having written
to the National Assembly, to assure it that he shall not pass the constitutional line, and that
he is going to Compiegne.
His majesty and all the royal family are to be in one carriage. It is easy to find a hundred
good horse to escort them. The Swiss, in case of need, and part of the national guard will
protect the departure. The two generals will keep close to his majesty. On arriving at
Compiegne, he shall have for his guard a detachment belonging to the place, which is very
good, one from the capital, which shall be picked, and one from the army.
M. Lafayette, after providing for all his fortresses, and his reserve camp, has at his disposal
for this purpose in his army ten squadrons of horse artillery. Two forced marches may
bring this whole division to Compiegne.
If, contrary to all probability, his majesty should be prevented from leaving the city, the
laws being most manifestly violated, the two generals would march upon the capital with
an army.
The consequences of this plan are sufficiently obvious.
Peace with all Europe, through the mediation of the King;
The King reinstated in all his legal power;
A great and necessary extension of his sacred prerogatives ;
A real monarchy, a real monarch, real liberty ;
A real national representation, of which the King shall be the head and an integral part ;
A real executive power;
A real national representation, elected from among persons of property;
The constitution revised, partly abolished, partly improved, and founded on a better basu;
The new legislative body sitting for three months only in the year :
The old nobility restored to its former privileges, not political but civil ; depending on
opinion, such as titles, arms, liveries, dec.
I execute my commission , without presuming to add either advice or reflection. My
Imagination is too full of the rage which will seize all those perverse heads at the loss of
292 HISTORY OF THE
Whether this plan required too great boldness, and Louis XVI. had not
enough of that quality, or whether the dislike of the Queen to Lafayette
the first town that shall be taken from us, not to have my misgivings ; and these are so
strong, that the scene of Saturday, which appears to have quieted many people, has doubled
my uneasiness. All those kisses reminded me of that of Judas.
I merely solicit permission to be one of the eighty or one hundred horse who shall escort
his majesty, if he approves the plan ; and I flatter myself that I have no occasion to assure
him that his enemies should not get at him qr at any member of his royal family before they
had passed over my corpse.
I will add one word : I was a friend of M. Lafayette's before the Revolution. I broke off
all intercourse with him since the 22d of March in the second year. At that period, I
wished him to he what he is at this day ; I wrote to him that his duty, his honour, his inte-
rest, all prescribed to him this line of conduct ; I detailed the plan to him at length, such as
my conscience suggested it. He gave me a promise ; I saw no effect from that promise.
I shall not examine whether this was owing to inability or insincerity ; I renounced all
further connexion with him, telling him so, and nobody had yet told him more severe
truths than myself and my friends, who were also his. These same friends have now
renewed my correspondence with him. His majesty knows what has been the aim and the
nature of this correspondence. I have seen his letters ; I had a conference of two hours
with him in the night before he left Paris. He acknowledges his errors ; he is ready to
devote himself for liberty, but at the same time for the monarchy ; he is willing to sacrifice
himself if need be, for his country and for his King, whom he no longer separates ; lie is
attached, in short, to the principles which I have expounded in this note ; he is attached to
them completely, with candour, conviction, sensibility, fidelity to the King, disregard of
himself — I answer for him on my integrity.
I forgot to say that he begs that nothing may be said on this subject to such of the officers
as may he in the capital at this moment All may suspect that some plans are in agitation ;
but none of them is apprized of that which he proposes. It is sufficient for them to know it
on the morning for acting; he is afraid of indiscretion if it should be mentioned to them
beforehand, and none of them is excepted from this observation.
P. S. May I venture to say that, in my opinion, this note should be perused by him only,
who, on an ever-memorable day, vanquished by his heroic courage a whole host of assassins;
by him who, the day after that unexampled triumph, himself dictated a proclamation as sub-
lime as his actions had been on the preceding day, and not by the counsels which drew up
the letter written in his name to the legislative body intimating that he should attend the
ceremony of the 14th ; not by the counsels which obtained the sanction of the decree re-
specting feudal rights, a decree equivalent to a robbery committed upon the highway ?
M. Lafayette does not admit the idea that the King, when once out of the capital, has any
other direction to follow but that of his conscience and his free will. He conceives that the
first operation of his majesty ought to he to create a guard for himself; he conceives also that
his plan is capable of being modified in twenty d:lfereut ways ; he prefers a retreat to the
North to a retreat to the South, as being nearer at hand to render assistance on that side,
and dreading the southern faction. In these words, the liberty nf the Kins; and the destruc-
tion of the factions, is comprehended his aim in all the sincerity of his heart. What is to
follow will follow.
Copy of a letter from Lafayette.
July 8, 1792.
I had disposed my army in such a manner that the best squadrons, the grenadiers, and the
horse artillery were under the command of M — , in the fourth division; and, had my pro-
posal been accepted, I should have brought in two days to Compiegne fifteen squadrons and
eight pieces of cannon, the rest of the army being placed in echelons, at the distance of one
march ; and any regiment which would not have taken the first step would have come to my
assistance, if my comrades and myself had been engaged.
I had overcome Luckuer so far as to obtain a promise from him to march with mn to the
capital, if the safety of the King had required it, and he had issued orders to that effect ; and
I have five squadrons of that army at my absolute disposal, Languedoc and ; the
commandant of the horse artillery is also exclusively devoted to me. I reckoned that these
would also march to Compie^iie.
The King has given a promise to attend the federal festival. J am sorry that my plan has
not been adopted ; but the most must be made of that which has been preferred.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 293
prevented him from accepting his aid, lie again refused it, and directed :i
very cold answer, and one very unworthy of the zeal which the general
jfhe steps which I have taken, the adhesion of many departments and communes, that of
M. Luckner, my influence with my army and even with the other troops, my popularity in
the kingdom, which has rather increased than diminished, though very limited in the capital ;
all these circumstances, added to several others, have, by awakening honest men, furnished a
subject of reflection for the factious; and I hope that the physical dangers of the 14th of
July are greatly diminished. I think myself that they are nothing, if the King is accompa-
nied by Luckner and me, and surrounded by the picked battalions which I am getting ready
for him.
But, if the King and his family remain in the capital, are they not still in the hands of the
factions I We shall lose the first battle ; it is impossible to doubt that. The recoil will be
felt in the capital. I will go further and assert that the supposition of a correspondence
between the Queen and the enemy will be sufficient to occasion the greatest excesses. At
least they will be for carrying off the Kintr to the South ; and this idea, which is now revolt-
ing, will appear simple when the leagued kings are approaching. I see, therefore, a series
of dangers commencing immediately after the 14th.
I again repeat it, the King must leave Paris ! I know that, were he not sincere, this course
would be attended with inconveniences ; but when the question is about trusting the King,
who is an honest man, can one hesitate a moment 1 I am impressed with the necessity of
seeing the King at Compiegne.
Hire then are the two objects to which my present plan relates:
1. If the King has not yet sent for Luckner and myself, he should do so immediately. We
have Luckner. He ought to be secured more and more. He will say that we are together ;
I will say the rest. Luckner can come to fetch me, so that we may be in the capital on the
evening of the 12th. The 13th and 14th may furnish offensive chances, at any rate the
defensive shall be insured by your presence ; and who knows what may be the effect of mine
upon the national guard ?
We will accompany the King to the altar of the country. The two generals, representing
two armies, which are known to be strongly attached to them, will prevent any insults that
there may be a disposition to offer to the dignity of the King. As for me, I may find again
the habit which some have so long had of obeying my voice ; the terror which I have always
struck into others, as soon as they became factious, and perhaps some personal means of
turning a crisis to advantage, may render me serviceable, at least for obviating dangers. My
application is the more disinterested, since my situation will be disagreeable in comparison
with the grand Federation ; but I consider it as a sacred duty to be near the King on this
occasion, and my mind is so bent on this point, that 1 absolutely require the minister at war
to send for me and that this first part of my proposal be adopted ; and I beg you to commu-
nicate it through mutual friends to the King, to his family, and to his council.
"-'. As for my second proposition, I deem it equally indispensable, and this is the way in
which I understand it. The King's oath and ours will have tranquillized those persons who
are only weak: consequently the scoundrels will be for some days deprived of that support.
I would have the King write secretly to M. Luckner apd myself, one letter jointly to us both,
which should find us on the road on the evening of the 1 Ith, or the morning of the 12th.
The King should there say, ' that, after taking our oath, it was expedient to think of proving
his sincerity to foreigners; that the best way would be for him to pass some days at Com-
pit'-LTie; that he directed us to have in readiness there some squadrons to join the national
guard of that place, and a detachment from the capital ; that we shall accompany him to
Compiegne, whence we shall proceed to rejoin our respective armies; that he desires us to
select such squadrons the chiefs of which are known for their attachment to the constitution,
and a general officer who cannot leave any doubt on that head.'
Agreeably to this letter, Luckner ami I will appoint M to the command of this expe-
dition ; he shall take with him four pieces of horse artillery ; eight, if preferred ; but the King
ouslit not to allude to this subject, because the odium of cannon ought to fall upon us. On
the 15th, at ten in the. morning, the King should go to the Assembly, accompanied by Luckner
and myself; and whether we had a battalion, or whether we had but fifty horse, consisting
of men devoted to the King, or friends of iniue, we should see if the King, the royal family,
Luckner, and myself, should l>e stopped.
Let us suppose that we were. Luckner and I would return to the Assembly, to complain
and to threaten it with our armies. When the King should have returned, his situation
would not be worse, for he would not have transgressed the constitution; he would have
2 b2
294 HISTORY OF THE
manifested for him, to be returned. " The best advice," to use the words
of that answer, " which can be given to M. Lafayette is to continue to serve
as a bugbear to the factions, by the able performance of his duty as a
general."* #
The anniversary of the Federation approached. The people and the As-
sembly were desirous that Petion should be present at the solemnity of the
14th, The King had already endeavoured to throw upon the Assembly the
responsibility of approving or disapproving the resolution of the department;
but the Assembly had, as we have seen, constrained him to speak out him-
self; urging him daily to communicate his decision, that this matter might
be settled before the 14th. On the 12th, the King confirmed the suspension.
The Assembly lost no time in taking its own course. What that wai
easily be conceived. Next day, that is on the 13th, it reinstated Petion.
But, from a shadow of delicacy, it postponed its decision respecting Manuel,
who, amidst the tumult of the 20th of June, had been seen walking about in
his scarf, Avithout making any use of his authority.
The 14th of July, 1792, at length arrived. How times had changed since
the 14th of July, 1790! There was neither that magnificent altar, with
three hundred officiating priests, nor that extensive area, covered by sixty
thousand national guards, richly dressed and regularly organized, nor those
lateral tiers of seats, crowded by an immense multitude, intoxicated with joy
against him none but the enemies of that constitution, and Luckner and I should easily bring
forward detachments from Compiegne. Take notice that this does not compromise the King
so much as he must necessarily be compromised by the events which are preparing.
The funds which the King has at his disposal have l>een so squandered in aristocratic
fooleries that he cannot have much money left. There is no doubt that he can borrow, if
necessary, to make himself master of the three days of the Federation.
There is still one case to be provided against : the Assembly may decree that the generals
shall not come to the capital. It will be sufficient for the King to refuse his sanction im-
mediately.
If, by an inconceivable fatality, the King should have already given his sanction, let him
appoint to meet us at Compiegne, even though he should !>e stopped at witling out. We
will open to him the means of coming thither free and triumphant. It is superfluous to
observe that, in any case, on his arrival at Compiegne, he will there form his personal guard
on the footing allowed him by the constitution.
In truth, when I find myself surrounded by inhabitants of the country, who come ten
leagues and more to see me and to swear that they have confidence in none but me and that
my enemies are theirs; when I find myself beloved by my army, on which the Jacobin
efforts have ho influence; when I see testimonies of adherence to my opinions arriving from
all parts of the kingdom — I cannot believe that all is lost and that I have no means of being
serviceable.
* The following answer is extracted from the collection of documents quoted in the last
note:
Answer in the handwriting of the King.
You must answer him that I am infinitely sensible to the attachment which would induce
him to put himself thus in the front ; but that the manner appears to me impracticable. It
is not out of personal fear; but everything would be staked at once, and, whatever he nuy
say of it, the failure of this plan would plunge all into a worse state than ever, and reduce it
more and more under the sway of the factions. Fontainbleau is but n eul-dc-tae, il would
l>e a bad retreat, and towards the South ; towards the North, it would have the appearance
of going to meet the Austrian*. Respecting the summons for him. an answer will In- returned
from another cjuartir, so I have nothing to say hero on that subject. The presence of the
jrcnernls at the Federation might be Useful; it might besides have for its motive to seethe
new minister and to confer with him on the wan!- of the army. The bost advice which can
ii to M. Lafayette is to continue to serve as a bugbear to the factions by the able per-
formance of his duty as a general. Mr will then by secure m ire and mom the confidence of
his army, and be enabled to employ it as he pleases in case of emergency.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 295
and delight ; nor lastly, that balcony, where the ministers, the royal family,
and the Assembly, were accommodated at tlie first federation, Everything
was changed. People hated eaeli other M after a hollow reconciliation, and all
the emblems indicated war. Eighty-three tents represented the eighty-three
departments. Beside each of Uiese stood a poplar, from the top of which
waved flags of the three colours. A large tent was destined for the Assem-
bly and the King, and another for the administrative bodies of Paris. Thus
all Prance seemed to be encamped in the presence of the enemy. The altar
of the country was but a truncated column, placed at the top of those tiers of
seats which had been left in the Champ de Mars, ever since the first cere-
mony. On one side was seen a monument for those who had died or who
were destined soon to die, on the frontiers ; on the other an immense tree,
called the tree of feudalism. It rose from the centre of a vast pile, and bore
on its branches crowns, blue ribbons, tiaras, cardinals' hats, St. Peter's keys,
ermine mantles, doctors' caps, bags of law proceedings, titles of nobility, es-
cutcheons, coats of arms, <fcc. The King was to be invited to set fire to it.
The oath was to be taken at noon. The King had repaired to the apart-
ments of the Military School, where he waited for the national procession,
which had gone to lay the first stone of a column destined to rise upon the
ruins of the ancient Bastille. The King displayed a calm dignity.* The
Queen strove to conquer a grief that was but too visible. His sister, his
children, surrounded him. Some touching expressions excited emotion in
those who were in the apartments, and tears trickled from the eyes of more
than one. At length the procession arrived. Until then the Champ de Mars
had been almost empty. All at once the multitude rushed into it. Beneath
the balcony where the King was placed, a confused mob of women, children,
and drunken men, were seen to pass, shouting, "Petion for ever! Petion on
death!" and bearing on their hats the words which they had in their mouths;-
federalists, arm in arm, and carrying a representation of the Bastille and a press,
which stopped, from time to time, for the purpose of printing and distributing
patriotic songs. Next came the legions of the national guards, and the regi-
ments of the troops of the line, preserving with difficulty the regularity of
their ranks amidst the moving populace ; and lastly, the authorities them-
selves, and the Assembly. The King then went down, and, placed amidst
a square of troops, moved on with the procession towards the altar of the
country. The concourse in the centre of the Champ de Mars was immense,
so that they could advance but slowly. After great exertions on the part of
the regiments, the King reached the steps of the altar. The Queen, stationed
on the balcony, which she had not quitted, watched this scene with a glass.
The confusion seemed to increase about the altar, and the King to descend
a step. At this sight, the Queen uttered a shriek and filled all around her
with alarm.t The ceremony, however, passed off without accident.
• "The figure made by the King during this pageant formed a striking and melancholy
parallel with his actual condition in the state. With hair powdered and dressed, with clothes
embroidered in the ancient court fashion, surrounded and crowded unceremoniously by men
of the lowest rank, and in the most wretched garb, he seemed belonging to a former age, but
which in the present has lost its fashion and value. He was conducted to the Champ do
Mars under a strong guard, and by a circuitous route, to avoid the insults of the multitude.
When he ascended the altar, to go through the ceremonial of the day, all were struck wiih his
resemblance to a victim led to sacrifice ; the Queen so much so, that she nearly fainted. A
few children alone called out, ' Vive la Koi !' This *u the last lime Louis was seen in
public until he mounted the scaffold." — Soitt's Life of Napoleon. E.
| " The expression of the Queen's countenance on this day will never be effaced from my
remembrance. Her eyes were swollen with tears; and the splendour of her dreas, and the
296 HISTORY OF THE
As soon as the oath was taken, the people hastened to the tree of feudal-
inn. They were for hurrying the J v i 1 1 <r aloiiir with them, that he mi<rht set
fire to it; but he declined, sabring very pertinently that there was no longer
any such thing as feudalism. He then set out on his return to the Military
School. The troops, rejoiced at having saved him, raised reiterated shouts
of Vive le Hoi! The multitude, which always feels constrained to sympa-
thize, repeated these ■bouts, and was as prompt to pay him homage as it
had been to insult hiin a few hours before. For a few hours longer the un-
fortunate Louis XVI. appeared to be beloved; tor an instant the people and
himself believed this to be the case; but even illusion had ceased to be i
and they began already to find it impossible to deeeive themselves. The
King returned to the palace, glad at having escaped the dangers which he
conceived to be great, but alarmed at those which he beheld approaching.
The news which arrived daily from the frontiers increased the alarm and
agitation. The declaration of the country in danger had set all Franc
motion, and had occasioned the departure of a gre.it number of federal
There were only two thousand at Paris on the day of the Federation ; hut
they kept continually arriving, and the way in which they conducted them-
selves there justified both the fears and the hopes that had been conceived
of their presence in the capital. AH voluntarily enrolled, they compr
the most violent spirits in the clubs of France. The Assembly ordered them
an allowance of thirty sous per day, and reserved the tribunes for them
clusively. They soon gave law to it by their shouts and their appl.
Connected with the Jacobins, and united in a club which in a lew
passed all the others in violence, they were ready for insurrection at the first
signal. They even made a declaration to this effect in an address to th
sembly. They would not set out, they said, till the enemies in the interior
were overthrown. Thus the scheme of assembling an insurrectional I
at Paris was completely accomplished, in spite of the opposition of the
court.
In addition to this engine, other means were resorted to. The old soldiers
of the French guards were dispersed among the regiments. The Assembly
ordered them to be collected into a corps of gendarmerie. There could he
no doubt respecting their disposition, since it was they who had begun the
Revolution. To no purpose was it objected that these men, almost a!l of
them subalterns in the army, constituted its principal force. The Assembly
would not listen to any representation, dreading the enemy at home n
than the enemy abroad. After composing forces for it-ell", ii resolved i
compose those of the court. To this end. the Assembly ordere 1 the remo
of all the regiments. Thus far it had kept within the limits appointed by
the constitution, but, not content with removing, it enjoined them to repair
to the frontier, and by so doing, it usurped the disposal of the public i
which belonged to the Ring.
The principal aim of this measure W89 to gel rid of the Swiss, whose
fidelity could not be doubted. To parry this blow, the minish rs instig
M. d'Affry, their commandant, to remonstrate. He appealed to his capitu-
lations in justification of his refusal to leave Paris. The Assembly a
dignity of her deportment, formed a striking contrast with the tmin that surrounded her. It
required the character of LOOH XVI, — that character of martyr which he ever upheld — to
support, as he did, such a situation. Winn he mounted the siep* of the altar, he seemed a
sacred victim, offering himself as a voluntary sacrifice. He detcerided, and, crowing anew
the disordered ranks, returned to take his place beside the Queen and his child: I
dame de Start. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 297
to take into consideration the reasons which he urged, but ordered for the
moment the departure of two Swi^s battalions.
The King, it is true, had his veto to resist these measures, but he had lost
all influence, and could no longer exercise his prerogative. The Assembly
itself could not always withstand the propositions brought forward by certain
of its members, and invariably supported by the applause of the tribunes. It
never failed to declare itself in favour of moderation, when that was possible;
and. whilst it assented on the one hand to the most insurrectional measures,
it was seen on the other receiving and approving the most moderate
petitions.
The measures that were adopted, the petitions that were daily read, and
the language that was used in all conversations, indicated a speedy revolu-
tion. The Girondins foresaw and wished for it; but they did not clearly
distinguish the means, and dreaded the issue of it. Among the people
complaints were made of their listlessness. They were accused of indolence
and incapacity. All the leaders of clubs and sections, weary of eloquent
speeches without result, loudly demanded an active and concentrated direc-
tion, that the popular efforts might not be unavailing.
There was at the Jacobins a rpom appropriated to the business of corres-
pondence. Here had been formed a central committee of federalists, for the
purpose of concerting and arranging their proceedings. In order that their
resolutions might be the more secret and energetic, this committee was
limited to five members, and was called among themselves the insurrectional
committee. These five members were Vaugeois, grand vicar; Debesse of
La Drome; Guillaume, professor at Caen ; Simon, journalist at Strasburg;
and Galissot of Langres. To these were soon added Carra,* Gorsas, Four-
nier the American, Westermann,t Kienlin of Strasburgh, Santerre, Alexan-
dre, commandant of the fauxbourg St. Marceau, a Pole named Lazouski, cap-
lain of the gunners in the artillery of St. Marceau, Antoine of Metz, an ex-con-
stituent, and Lairrey and Garin, two electors. It was joined by Manuel,
Camille Desmoulins4 and Danton; and these exercised the greatest influence
• "J. L. Carra called himself a man of letters before the Revolution, because he had writ-
ten some bad articles in the Encyclopedia. At the beginning of the troubles, he went to
Paris; made himself remarkable among the most violent revolutionists, and, in 1789, pro-
mised the formation of the municipality of Paris, and of the city guard. It was Carra who
thought of arming the people with pikes. Always preaching up murder and pillage in his
writings, he was one of the chiefs of the revolt of the 10th of August, 1792 ; and in his jour-
nal, he gloried in having traced out the plan of that day. Being denounced by Robespierre,
he was condemned to death, and executed at the age of fifty. Carra was the author of several
works, which have long since sunk into oblivion." — Biographic Moderne. E.
■j- " Fr. Joseph Westermann, born at Molsheim, in Alsace, was an officer under the mo-
narch v, but embraced the revolutionary party with ardour. On the 10th of August, lie was
tii.' first who forced the Tuileries at the head of the Brest battalions. In 1792, and the fol-
lowing year, he distinguished himself by his bravery at the head of the Legion du Nord, of
which he had obtained the command. He was afterwards transferred, with the rank of ge-
neral of brigade, to the army which Biron then commanded in La Vendee. At Chatillon,
r. he was completely defeated ; his infantry was cut to pieces ; and he himself escaped
with difficulty. Being attached to the party of the Cordeliers, he was denounced with them,
and executed in 1794, in the fortieth year of his age." — Biographic Moderne. E.
• Westermann ran from massacre to massacre, sparing neither adversaries taken in arms,
nor even the peaceful inhabitants of the country." — Vrui1hi>mmc. E.
% "Camille Desmoulins had natural abilities, some education, hut an extravagant imagina-
tion. He stammered in his speech, and yet he harangued the mob without appearing ridicu-
lous such was the influence which the vehemence of his language had over it. He was fond
of pleasure and of amusement of all kinds, and professed a sincere admiration of Robespierre,
who then seemed to feel a friendship for him." — Memoirs of a Peer of France. E.
vol. I.— 38
298 HISTORY OF THE
over it.* They entered into arrangements with Barbaroux, who promised
the co-operation of his Marsellais, whose arrival was impatiently expected.
They placed themselves in communication with Petion, the mayor, and
obtained from him a promise not to prevent the insurrection. In return they
promised him to protect his residence and to place a guard upon it, in order
to justify his inaction by an appearance of constraint, if the enterprise should
miscarry.
• Particulars of the events of the 10th of August.
These particulars are extracted from a paper inserted in the Annates Politir/ues, signed
Carra, and entitled, Historical Sketch of the Origin and real Authors of the celebrated In-
surrection of the \0th of August, which has saved the Republic. The author asserts that
the mayor had no hand whatever in the success, but that he happened to be in place, on this
occasion, like a real Providence for the patriots.
" Those men, says Jerome Petion, in his excellent speech on the proceedings instituted
against Maximilien Robespierre, who have attributed to themselves the glory of that day, are
those to whom it least belongs. It is due to those who prepared ; it is due to the imperative
nature of things; it is due to the brave federalists and to their secret directory, which had
long concerted the plan of the insurrection ,- it is due, in short, to the guardian genius which
has constantly governed the destinies of France ever since the first meeting of its repre-
sentatives. ,
" It is of this secret directory which Jerome Petion speaks, and of which I shall speak in
my turn, both as a member of that directory and as an actor in all its operations. This secret
directory was formed by the central committee of federalists, which met in the correspondence-
room at the Jacobins, St Honore. It was out of the forty-three members, who daily assem-
bled since the commencement of July in that room, that five were selected for the insurrec-
tional directory. These five members were Vaugeois, grand-vicar of the Bishop of Blois ;
Debesse, of the department of La Drome ; Guillaume, professor at Caen ; Simon, journalist
of Strasburg; and Galissot, of Langress. I was added to these five members at the very
moment of the formation of the directory ; and, a few days afterwards, Fournier, the Ameri-
can ; Westermann ; Kienlin, of Strasburg ; Santerre; Alexandre, commandant of the faux-
bourg St. Marceau; Antoine of Metz, the ex-constituent; Legrey ; and Garin, elector in
1789, were invited to join it.
" The first meeting of this directory was held in a small public-house, the Soleil d'Or. rue
St. Antoine, near the Bastille, in the night between Thursday and Friday, the 26th of Julv,
after the civic entertainment given to the federalists on the site of the Bastille. Gorsas, the
patriot, attended at the public-house, which we left at two in the morning, when we repaired
to the column of liberty, on the site of the Bastille, to die there, in case of need, for the
country. It was to this public-house, the Soliel d'Or, that Fournier the American brought us
the red flag, the invention of which I had proposed, and upon which I had got inscribed these
words : Martial Law of the Sovereign People against the Rebellion of the Executive Power.
It was also to the same house that I took five hundred copies of a posting-bill containing
these words : Those who fire on the columns of the people shall instantly be put to <!
This bill, printed in the office of Buisson, the publisher, had been carried to Santerre's,
whither I went at midnight to fetch it. Our plan failed this time through the prudena
the mayor, who probably conceived that we were not sufficiently guarded at the moment;
and the second active meeting of the directory was adjourned to the 4th of August following.
" Nearly the same persons attended this meeting, and in addition to them Camille Des-
moulins. It was held at the Cadran Bleu, on the boulevard ; and, about eight in the evening,
it removed to the lodgings of Antoine, ex-constituent, rue St. Honor.', opposite to the As-
sumption, in the very same house where Robespierre lives. His landlady was so alarmed at
this meeting that she came, about eleven o'clock at night, to ask Antoine if he was goine M
get Koliesjiierre murdered. 'If any one is to be murdered,' replied Antoine, ' no doubt it will
be ourselves; R>bespierre has nothing to fear from us; let him but conceal h;
" It was in this second active meeting that I wrote with my own hand the whole plan of
the insurrection, of the march of the columns, and of the attack of the palace. Simon made
a copy of this plan, and we sent it to Santerre ami Alexandre, about midnight; but a second
time our scheme miscarried, because Alexandre and Santerre were riot yet sufficiently pre-
pared, and several wished to wait for the discussion fixed for the 10th of August on the sus-
pension of the King.
" At length, the third active meeting of this directory was held in the night between the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 299
The plan clofmitivelv adopted was to repair in arms to the palace, and to
depose tin- King, Itut it was requisite to set the people in motion, and, to
succeed in tins purpose, some extraordinary exciting cause was indispensably
necessary . Endeavours were made to produce one, and the subject was dis-
cussed at the Jacobins. Chabot,* the deputy, expatiated with all the ardour
of his disposition on the necessity for a great resolution, and he said that, in
order to bring about such a one, it was desirable that the court should
attempt the lite of a deputy. Grangeneuve, himself a deputy, heard this
• ch. He was a man of limited understanding, but resolute disposition.
He took Chabot aside. "You are right," said he; "it is expedient that a
deputy should perish, but the court is too cunning to give us so fair an occa-
sion. You must make amends, and put me to death as soon as possible in
the environs of the palace. Prepare the means and keep your secret."
Chabot. seized with enthusiasm, offered to share his fate. Granireneuve
cited, observing that two deaths would produce a greater effect than one.
They agreed upon the day, the hour, and the means, of putting an end to
their lives, without maiming themselves, as they said ; and they separated,
trad to sacrifice themselves for the success of the common cause. Gran-
. determined to keep his word, put his domestic affairs in order, and
proceeded at half-past ten o'clock at night, to the place of meeting. Chabot
- not there. He waited. As Chabot did not come, he conceived that
he had changed his mind, but he hoped that, in regard to himself at least, the
execution would take place. He walked to and fro several times in expecta-
tion of the mortal blow, but was obliged to return, safe and sound, with-
out enjoying the satisfaction of immolating himself for the sake of a
calumny. t
The occasion so impatiently looked for did not occur, and the parties
9th and 10th of August last, at the moment when the tocsin rang, and in three different places
nt the same time; namely, Fournier the American, with some others, at the fauxbourg St.
Marcoau ; Wcstermann, Santerre, and two others, at the fauxbourg St. Antoine; Garin, jour-
nalist of^trasburg, and myself, in the barracks of the Marseillais, and in the very chamber of
the commandant, where we wore seen by the whole battalion.
" In this sketch, which contains nothing but what is strictly true, and the minutest details
of which I defy any person whatever to contradict, it is seen that nothing is said of Marat or
of Ilobivpicrre, or of so many others who desire to pass for actors in that affair; and that
e who may directly ascribe to themselves the glory of the famous day of the 10th, are the
b wham I have named, and who formed the secret directory of the federalist."
* " F. Chabot, a Capuchin, born in the department of Aveyron, eagerly profited by the
opportunity of breaking his vows, which the decree of the Constituent Assembly offered him.
In 1792 he was appointed deputy of Loire et Cher to the legislature. In the same year, he
went ao far as to cause himself to be slightly wounded by six confidential men, in order
that he might accuse the King of being the author of this assassination. It is asserted that
he even pressed Merlin arid Ilazire to murder him, and then to carry his bloody corpse into
the fauxlniurg, to hasten the insurrection of the people, and the destruction of the monarch.
• ^ nne of the chief instigators of the events of the 10th of August, and voted
afterwards for the death of the King. He was condemned to death by Robespierre as a par-
tizan of the Dantonist faction. When he knew what his fate was to be, he poisoned himself
with corrosive sublimate of mercury ; but the dreadful pain he suffered having extorted shrieks
from him, he was conveyed to the infirmary, and his life prolonged till April, 1794, when
he wis guillotined. Chabot died with firmness at the age of thirty-five." — Biographic
Nodemr. I'.
f" J. A. Grangeneuve, a lawyer, was a deputy from the Gironde to the legislature. He
was one of those who. in concert with the Capuchin, Chabot, agreed to cause themselves to
lie mangled by men whom they had in pay, in order to exasperate the people against the
court ; but he was afraid of being mangled too effectually, so gave up his project. He was
com!. iih as a Girondin in 17!*:). Crangcneuve was forty-three years old, and
was born at Uoideaux." — Biographic Modirnc. E.
300 HISTORY OF THE
began mutually to accuse each other of want of courage, intelligence, and
unity. The Girondin deputies, Petion the mayor, and, in short, all persons
of any eminence, and who were obliged, either in the tribune or in the per-
formance of their official duties, to speak the language of the law, kept them-
selves more and more aloof, and condemned these incessant agitations, which
compromised them without producing any result. They reproached the
subaltern agitators with exhausting their strength in partial and useless
movements, which exposed the people without leading to any decisive event.
The latter, on the contrary, who did in their respective spheres all that they
could do, reproached the deputies and Petion, the mayor, for their public
speeches, and accused them of repressing the energy of the people.
Thus the deputies reproached the mass with not being organized, and the
latter complained that the deputies themselves were not. The want most
sensibly felt was that of a leader. We need a man, was the general cry,
but who is it to be? No fit person was to be found among the depir
They were all of them rather orators than conspirators ; and, besides, their
elevated situation and their mode of life removed them too far from the mul-
titude, on whom it was necessary to act. In the same predicament were
Roland, Servan, and all those men whose courage was undoubted, but
whose rank lifted them too high above the populace. Petion might, from
his office, have had opportunity to communicate easily with the multitude ;
but he was cold, passionless, and capable of dying rather than beting. Hv
means of his system of checking petty agitations, for the benefit of a de-
cisive insurrection, he thwarted the daily movements, and lost all favour
with the agitators, whom he impeded without controlling. They wanted
a leader who, not having yet issued from the bosom of the multitude, had
not lost all power over it, and who had received from nature the spirit of
persuasion.
A vast field had been opened in the clubs, the sections, and the revolu-
tionary papers. Many had there distinguished themselves, but noue
had yet gained a marked superiority. Camille Desmoulins had acquired
notice by his energy, his cynical spirit, his audacity, and his promptness m
attacking all those who seemed to flag in the revolutionary career. He was
known to the lower classes ; but he had neither the lungs of a popular
speaker, nor the activity and powers of persuasion of a party-leader.
Another public writer had gained a frightful celebrity. This was Marat,
known by the name of the Friend of the People, and who, by his instiga-
tions to murder, had become an object of horror to all those who yet retained
any moderation. A native of Neufchatel, and engaged in the study of the
physical and medical sciences, he had boldly attacked the most firmly-esta-
blished systems, and had shown an activity of mind that might be termed
convulsive. He was physician to the stables of Count d'Artois when the
Revolution commenced. He rushed without hesitation into a new career,
and soon acquired distinction in his section. He was of middle height,
with a large head, strongly-marked features, livid complexion, a piercing
eye and earfleei in his personal appearance. It was necessary, he asser
to strike olf several thousand heads, and to destroy all the aristocrats, who
rendered liberty impossible. Horror and contempt were alternately excited
by him. People ran against him. trod upon his toee, made game of his
wretched-lookinir figure 5 but accustomed to scientific squabbles and th<*
most extravagant assertions, he had learned to despise those who despit
him, and he pitied them as incapable of comprehending him.
Thenceforward he diffused in his papers the horrid doctrine with which
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 301
he was imbued. The subterraneous life to which he was doomed in order
ipe justice had heated hie temperament, end the public horror b<
still more to excite it Our polished manners were, according to hia notions,
but vices which were hostile to republican equality; and, in lu> ardent
hatred lor the obstacles, he saw but one means of safety — extermination.
llis smdics and his observations on the pbysioal man must have accustomed
him to conquer the sio-ln of pain ; and Ids ardent mind, unchecked by any
instinct of sensibility , proceeded directly to its goal by ways of blood. That
same idea of operating by destruction bad gradually become systematized
in bis bead, lie proposed a dictator, not tor the purpose of conferring on
him the pleasure of omnipotence, but of imposing upon him the terrible
task of purifying society. This dictator was to have a cannon-ball attached
to Ins leg, that be might always be in the power of the people. He was to
awe but one faculty left him, that of pointing out victims and ordering
deatii as their only chastisement. Marat knew no other penalty, because
he was not for punishing but for suppressing the obstacle.
lYrceh ing aristocrats on all sides conspiring against liberty, he collected
nd there all the facts that gratified his passion. He denounced with
fury, and with a levity, which was the result of that very fury, all the names
mentioned to him, and which frequently had no existence. He denounced
them without personal hatred, without fear, nay, even without danger to
himself; because be was out of the pale of human society, and because the
relations between the injured and the injurer no longer existed between him
and his fellow-men.
Being recently included in a decree of accusation with Royou, the King's
friend, he had concealed himself in the house of an obscure and indigent
advocate, who had afforded' him an asylum, Barbaroux was requested to
call upon him. Barbaroux had cultivated the physical sciences, and had
formerly been acquainted with Marat. He could not refuse to comply with
his request, and conceived, when he heard him, that his mind was deranged.
The French, according to this atrocious man,were but paltry revolutionists.
"Give me," said he, "two hundred Neapolitans, armed with daggers, and
bearing on the left arm a muff by way of buckler; with them I will traverse
France and produce a revolution." He proposed that, in order to mark the
aristocrats, the Assembly should order them to wear a white ribbon on the
arm, and that it should be lawful to kill them when three were found toge-
ther. Under the name of aristocrats, he included the royalists, the Feuil-
lans, and the Girondins ; and when, by chance, the difficulty of recognising
and distinguishing them was mentioned, he declared that it was impossible
to mistake : that it was only necessary to fall upon those who had carriages,
servants, silk clothes, and who were coming out of the theatres. All such
were assuredly aristocrats.
Barbaroux left him horror-struck. Marat, full of his atrocious system,
concerned himself but little about the means of insurrection, and was more-
over incapable of preparing them. In his murderous reveries, he feasted
himself on the idea of retiring to Marseilles, The republican enthusiasm
of that city led him to hope that there he should be better understood and
more cordially received. He had thoughts, therefore, of seeking refuge
there, and begged Barbaroux to send him thither with his recommendation.
But the latter, haying no desire to make such a present to his native city,
left that insensate wretch, whose apotheosis he was then far from foreseeing,
where he found him.
The systematic and bloodthirsty Marat was not therefore the active chief
2C
302 HISTORY OF THE
who could have united these scattered and confusedly fermenting mas
Robespierre would have been more capable of doing so, because he had
gained at the Jacobins a patronizing circ'e of auditors, usually more active
than a patronizing circle of readers. But neither did he possess die requisite
qualities. Robespierre, an advocate of little repute at Arras, had been sent
by that city as its deputy to the States-general. There he had conm
himself with Petion and Buzot, and maintained with bitterness the opinions
which they defended with a deep and calm conviction. At first, lie appeared
ridiculous, from the heaviness of his delivery and the mediocrity of his elo-
quence ; but his obstinacy gained him some attention, especially at the epoch
of the revision. When it was rumoured, after the scene in the Champ de
Mars, that the persons who had signed the petition of the Jacobins were to
be prosecuted, his terror and his youth excited the pity of Buzot and Roland.
An asylum was offered to him, but he soon recovered from his alarm : and,
the Assembly having broken up, he intrenched himself at the Jacobins,
where he continued his dogmatic and inflated harangues. Being ele
public accuser, he refused that new office, and thought only how to acquire
the double reputation of an incorruptible patriot and an eloquent speaker.*
His first friends, Petion, Buzot, Brissot, and Roland, admitted him to
their houses, and observed with pain his mortified pride, which was betri
by his looks and by his every motion. They felt an interest for him, and
regretted that, thinking so much of the public welfare, he should also think
so much of himself. He was, however, a person of too little importance for
people to be angry with him for his pride ; and it was forgiven on account
of his mediocrity and his zeal. It was particularly remarked that, silent in
all companies, and rarely expressing his sentiments, he was the first on the
following day to retail in the tribune the ideas of others which he had thus
collected. This observation was mentioned to him, but unaccompanied with
any reproach ; and he soon began to detest this society of superior men, as
he had detested that of his constituents. He then betook himself entirely to
the Jacobins, where, as we have seen, he differed in opinion from Bn
• " Robespierre felt rebuked and humiliated among the first chiefs of the Revolution ; he
vowed within himself to be one day without a rival, and started for the goal with an unde-
viating, passionless, pitiless fixedness of purpose, which seems more than human. He is a
proof what mediocre talents suffice to make a tyrant His views were ordinary — his thoughts
were low — his oratory was wretched. But he was a man of a single ruling idea, and of in-
defatigable perseverance. His devouring ambition was not to be confounded with that of a
common usurper aspiring at political tyranny. It was rather that of the founder of a
and even a fanatic in his wa}'. He seems to have formed for himself a system out of the
boldest and wildest visions of Rousseau, domestic, social, and political. Rut he had not a
particle of the fervour, eloquence, or enthusiasm of that philosopher. To propagate the new
creed by persuasion, was, therefore, not thought of by him ; but he had craft, hypocrisy, im-
penetrable reserve, singleness of purpose, and apathetic cruelty ; and, accordingly, he resolved
to effect his vast scheme of reform by immolating a whole generation. K >bespierre was
severe, frugal, and insensible to the pomps, vanities, seductions, and allurements which cor-
rupt or influence the great mass of the world." — Britiah and Foreign /.' B.
f The following is the opinion entertained of Brissot by Lafayette, who knew him well :
" It is impossible not to be struck with various contrasts in the life of Brissot : a clever man,
undoubtedly, and a skilful journalist, but whose talents and influence have been greatly over-
rated both by friends and enemies. In other times, before he became a republican, he had
made the old regime a subject of eulogy. It seems pretty well proved that, a few days before
the 10th of August, he, and some agitators of his party, had been intriguing with the valets-
de-chambre of the Tuileries; even after this insurrection, their only desire was to govern in
the name of the prince royal. Brissot, on the very eve of denouncing Lafayette, told the
Abbe Duvernet, then member of the society of Jacobins, that the person he was going to
accuse, was the man of all others whom he esteemed and revered the most. Even while
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 303
and Louvet on the question of war, and called them, nay, perhaps believed
them to be, bad citizens, because their sentiments did not coincide with Ins,
and they supported their opinions with eloquence. Was he sincere, when
lie immediately suspected those who had opposed him, or did he slander
them wilfully ? These are the mysteries of minds. Hut, with a narrow
and common intellect, and with extreme susceptibility, it was easy to give
him unfavourable impressions and difficult to correct them. It is therefore
not impossible that a hatred from pride may have changed in him to a hatred
from principle, and that he soon believed all those to be wicked who had
offended him.
He this as it may, in the lower sphere in which he moved, he excited
enthusiasm by his dogmatism and by his reputation for incorruptibility. He
thus founded his popularity upon blind passions and moderate understand-
ings. Austerity and cold dogmatism captivate ardent characters, nay, often
superior minds. There were actually men who were disposed to discover
in Robespierre real enemy and talents superior to those which he pos-
sessed. Camille Desmoulins called him ins Aristides, and thought him
eloquent.
Others, without talents, but subdued by his pedantry, went about repeating
that he was the man who ought to be put at the head of the Revolution, and
that without such a dictator it could not go on. For his part, winking at all
these assertions of his partisans, he never attended any of the secret meetings
of the conspirators. He complained even of being compromised, because
one of them dwelling in the same house as himself had occasionally brought
thither the insurrectional committee. He kept himself, therefore, in the
back-ground, leaving the business of acting to his panegyrists, Panis,
Sergent, Osselin, and other members of the sections and of the municipal
councils.
Marat, who was looking for a dictator, wished to ascertain if Robespierre
was fit for the office. The neglected and cynical person of Marat formed a
striking contrast to that of Robespierre, who was particularly attentive to
external appearance. In the retirement of an elegant cabinet, where his
image was repeated in all possible ways, in painting, in engraving, and in
sculpture, he devoted himself to assiduous study, and was continually read-
ing Rousseau, in order to glean ideas for his speeches. Marat saw him,
found in him nothing but petty animosities, no great system, none of that
sanguinary audacity which he himself derived from his monstrous convic-
tions— in short, no genius. He departed, filled with contempt for this little
man, declared him incapable of saving the state, and became more firmly
persuaded than ever that he alone possessed the grand BOcial system.
The partisans of Robespierre surrounded Harbaroux, and wished to con-
duct the latter to him, saying that a man was wanted, and that Robespierre
alone could be that man. This language displeased Barbaroux, whose bold
spirit could not brook the idea of a dictatorship, and whose ardent imagina-
tion was already seduced by the virtue of Roland and the talents of his
friends. He called nevertheless on Robespierre, They talked, during the
interview, of Petion, whose popularity threw Robespierre into the shade,
and who, it was alleged, was incapable of serving the Revolution. Harba-
roux replied with warmth to the reproaches urged against Petion, and, as
warmly defended a character which he admired. Robespierre talked of the
continuing to calumniate Lafayette, he testified in private for him the same esteem to various
persons — Lord Lauderdale, among others — a witness whose evidence will hardly bo refused
and who often spoke of it in London." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
304 HISTORY OF THE
Revolution, and repeated, according to his custom, that he had accelerated
it.s march. He concluded, as everybody else did, by saying that a leader
was wanted. Barbaroux replied that lie wanted neither dictator nor King.
Freron observed that Brissot was desirous of being dictator. Thus reproaches
were bandied from one to the other, and they could not agree. As they
went away, Panis, wishing to counteract the bad effect of this interview,
said to Barbaroux that he had mistaken the matter, that it was hut a mo-
mentary authority that was contemplated, and that Robespierre was the only
man on whom it could be conferred. It was these vague expressions, these
petty rivalries, which falsely persuaded the Girondins that Robespierre de-
signed to act the usurper. An ardent jealousy was mistaken in him for
ambition. But it was<one of those errors which the confused vision of par-
ties is continually committing. Robespierre, capable at the utmost of hating
merit, had neither the strength nor the genius of ambition, and his parti-
raised pretensions for him which he himself would not have dared to con-
ceive.
Danton was more capable than any other of being the leader whom all
ardent imaginations desired, for the purpose of giving unity to the revolu-
tionary movements. He had formerly tried the bar, but without success. Poor
and consumed by passions, he then rushed into the political commotions
with ardour, and probably with hopes. He was ignorant, hut endowed with
a superior understanding and a vast imagination. His athletic 6gure, his
flat and somewhat African features, his thundering voice, his eccentric but
grand images, captivated his auditors at the Cordeliers and the sections.
face expressed by turns the brutal passions, jollity, and even good-nature.
Danton neither envied nor hated anybody, but his audacity was extraordinary;
and, in certain moments of excitement, he was capable of executing all that
the atrocious mind of Marat was capable of conceiving.
A Revolution, the unforeseen hut inevitable effect of which had been to
set the lower against the upper classes of society, could not fail to awaken
envy, to give birth to new systems, and to let loose the brutal ,
Robespierre was the envious man, Marat the systematic man, and Damon
the impassioned, violent, fickle, and by turns cruel and generous man. If
the two former, engrossed, the one by a consuming envy, the other by mis-
chievous systems, could not have many of those wants which render men
accessible to corruption, Danton, on the contrary, the slave of his passi
and greedy of pleasure, must have been nothing less than incorruptible.
Under pretext of compensating him for tin- loss of his former place of advo-
cate to the council, the court gave him considerable sums. But, though it
contrived to pay, it could not gain him. He continued, nevertheles
harangue and to excite the mob of the clubs against it. When he
reproached with not fulfilling his Bargain, he replied that, in order to retain
• " I never saw any countenance that so strongly expressed the violence of brutal passions,
and the most astonishing audacity, half-disguised by a jovial air, an affectation of frankness,
and a sort of simplicity, as 1). niton's. In 1789 he was a needy lawyer, more burdened with
debts than causes. II. went to Belgium to augment his resources, and, after the 10th of
August, had the hardihood to avow a fortune of 158,333/., and to wallow in luxury, while
preaching sans-culottusm, and sleeping on heaps of slaughtered men." — Madame Roland's
Memoirs. E.
" Danton was an exterminator without ferocity ; inexorable with regard to the mass, but
humane and even generous towards individuals. At the time when the commune was
meditating the massacres of September, he saved all who came to him; and, of his own
accord, discharged from prison Dnport, Barnave, and Charles Laincth, who were in some
measure his personal antagonists." — Miguel. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 30^
the means of serving the court, he was obliged in appearance to treat it as
an enemy.
Danton was therefore the most formidable leader of those bands which
were won and guided by public oratory. But, audacious and fond of hurry-
ing forward to the decisive moment, he was not capable of that assiduous
toil which tlu> thirst of rule requires; and, though he possessed great influ-
ence over the conspirators, he did not yet govern them. He was merely
capable, when they hesitated, of rousing their courage and propelling diem
to a goal by a decisive plan of operation.
The different members of the insurrectional committee had not yet been
able to agree. The court, apprized of their slightest movements, took, on
its part, some measures for screening itself against a sudden attack, so that
it might be enabled to await in safety the arrival of the coalesced powers.
It had formed a club, called the French club, which met near the palace, and
was composed of artisans and soldiers of the national guard. They had all
their arms concealed in the very building in which they assembled ; and they
could, in case of emergency, hasten to the aid of the royal family. This
single association cost the civU list ten thousand francs per day. AMarseil-
lais, named Lieutaud, kept moreover in pay a band which alternately occu-
pied die tribunes, the public places, the coffee-houses, and the public-houses,
for the purpose of speaking in favour of the King, and opposing the continual
tumults of the patriots.* Quarrels occurred, in fact, everywhere, and from
words the parties almost always came to blows ; but, in spite of all the efforts
of the court, its adherents were thinly scattered, and that portion of the
national guard which was attached to it was reduced to the lowest state of
discouragement.
A great number of faithful servants, who had till then been at a distance
from the throne, had come forward to defend the King and to make a ram-
part for him with their bodies. Their meetings at the palace were numerous,
and they increased the public distrust. After the scene in February, 1790,
they were called knights of the dagger. Letters had been delivered for the
purpose of calling secretly together the constitutional guard, which, thcuigh
disbanded, had always received its pay. During this time, conflicting opi-
nions were maintained around the King, which produced the most painful
perplexities in his weak and naturally wavering mind. Some intelligent j
friends, among others, Malesherbes,t advised him to abdicate. Others, and '
these constituted the majority, recommended flight. For the rest, they were
far from agreeing either upon the means, or the place, or the result of the
invasion. In order to reconcile these different plans, the King desired Ber-
trand de Molleville to see and to arrange matters with Duport, the constituent.
The King had great confidence in the latter, and he was obliged to give a
positive order to Bertrand, who alleged that he disliked to have any com-
munication with a constitutionalist such as DuportJ To this committee
belonged also Lally-Tollendal, Mallouet, Clermont-Tonnerre, Gouvernet,
and others, all devoted to Louis XVI., but otherwise differing widely as to
• See Bertrand de Molleville, tome« viii. and ix. \ See Ibid.
* " Bertrand de Molleville, a stanch royalist, was, first controller of Bretagne, and after-
words minister of marine, to which post he was appointed in 1791. After the events of the
10th of August, he was imprisoned by the Jacobins, but succeeded in making his escape to
London, where he published a voluminous history of the Revolution, which met with great
■accent, He did not return to Paris after the 18th of Bruraaire (1709), but followed the
fortunes of the Bourbons." — Biographie Muderne. E.
vol. i 39 2c2
306 HISTORY OF THE
the part which royalty ought to be made to act, if they could contrive to
save it.
The flight of the King and his retreat to the castle of Gaillon, in Nor-
mandy, were then resolved upon. The Duke de Liancourt, a friend of the
King, and possessing his unlimited confidence, commanded that province.
He answered for his troops and for the inhabitants of Rouen, who had, in
an energetic address, declared themselves against the 20th of June. lit'
offered to receive the royal family, and to conduct it to Gaillon, or to con-
sign it to Lafayette, who would convey it into the midst of his army. He
offered, moreover, his whole fortune for the purpose of seconding this pro-
ject, asking permission to reserve for his children merely an annuity of one
hundred louis. This plan was liked by the constitutional members of the
committee, because, instead of placing the King in the hands of the emigrants,
it put him under the care of the Duke de Liancourt and Lafayette. For the
same reason it displeased others, and was likely to displease the Queen and
the King. Still, the castle of Gaillon possessed the important advantage of
being only thirty-six leagues from the sea, and of offering an easy flight to
England through Normandy, a favourably-disposed province. It had also
another, namely, that of being only twenty leagues from Paris. The King
could therefore repair thither without violating the constitutional law ; and
this had great weight with him, for he was extremely tenacious of not com-
mitting any open infringement of it.
M. de Narbonne and Necker's daughter, Madame de Sta'el,* likewise de-
vised a plan of flight. The emigrants, on their part, proposed another.
This was to carry the King to Compiegne, and thence to the banks of the
Rhine, throught the forest of the Ardennes. Every one is eager to offer
advice to a weak King, because every one aspires to impart to him a will
which he has not. So many contrary suggestions added to the natural inde-
cision of Louis XVI. ; and this unfortunate prince, beset by conflicting coun-
sels, struck by the reason of some, hurried away by the passion of others,
tortured by apprehensions concerning the fate of his family, and disturbed
by scruples of conscience, wavered between a thousand projects, and beheld
the popular flood approaching without daring either to flee from or to con-
front it.t
* " The Baroness de Stael-Holstein, was the daughter of the well-known Ne*jcer. Her birth,
her tastes, her principles, the reputation of her father, and above all, her conduct in the Revo-
lution, brought her prominently before the world : and the political factions, and the literary
circles with which she has been connected, have by turns disputed with each other for her
fame. After the death of Robespierre, she returned to Paris, and became an admirer of Bona-
parte, with whom she afterwards quarrelled, and who banished her from France. She went
to live at Coppet, where she received the last sighs of her father, and where she heraetf died.
She published many works, the best of which is her novel of ' Corinne.' When in England,
in 1812, she was much courted by the higher classes." — Biographic Modeme. E.
■(• " The errors of Louis XVI. may truly be said to have originated in a virtuous principle.
As to his weaknesses, I shall not endeavour to conceal them. I have more than once had
occasion to lament the indecision of this unfortunate prince ; his repugnance to adopt the
bold measures which might have saved him; and his want of that energy of character, and
self-confidence which impose on the multitude, who are ever prone to believe that he who
commands with firmness and an air of authority possesses the means of enforcing o!>edience.
But I will venture to say, that the very faults above enumerated did not belong to his natural
character, but were ingrafted on it by the selfish indolence of M. de Maurepas." — Private
Memoirs of Be.rtrand de. Molleville. E.
" Louis XVI. was the grandson of Louis XV., and the second son of the dauphin by his
second wife, Marie Josephine, daughter of Frederick Augustus, King of Poland and Elector
of Saxony. Louis was bom in 1751, and in 1770 married Marie Antoniette of Austria
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 307
The Girondin deputies, who had so boldly broached the question of the
forfeiture of the crown, continued, nevertheless, undecided on the eve of an
insurrection; and, though the court was almost disarmed, and the supreme
power was on the side of the people, still the approach of the Prussians, and
the dread always excited by an old authority, even after it is disarmed, per-
suaded them that it would be better to come to terms with the court than to
expose themselves to the chances of an attack. In case this attack should
even prove successful, they feared lest the arrival of the Prussians, which
was very near at hand, should destroy all the results of a victory over the
palace, and cause a momentary success to be followed by terrible vengeance.
Notwithstanding, however, this disposition to treat, they opened no nego-
tiations on the subject, and durst not venture to make the first overtures; but
they listened to a man named Boze, painter to the King, and very intimate
with Thierry, valet-de-chambre of Louis XVI. Boze, alarmed at the
dangers which threatened the public weal, exhorted them to write what
they thought proper, in this extremity, to save the King and liberty. They
accordingly drew up a letter, which was signed by Guadet, Gensonne", and
Vergniaud, and which began with these words. " You ask us, sir, what is
our opinion respecting the present situation of France." This exordium
sufficiendy proves that the explanation had been called for. It was no longer
time, said the three deputies to Boze, for the King to deceive himself, and
he would do so most egregiously, if he did not perceive that his conduct was
the cause of the general agitation, and of that violence of the clubs of which
he was continually complaining. New protestations on his part would be
useless, and appear derisory, for at the point to which things had come, de-
cisive steps were absolutely necessary to give confidence to the people.
Everybody, for instance, was persuaded that it was in the power of the King
to keep the foreign armies away. He ought, therefore, to begin by making
them draw back. He should tl>en choose a patriotic ministry, dismiss
Lafayette, who, in the existing state of affairs, could no longer serve him use-
fully, issue a law for the constitutional education of the young dauphin, sub-
mit to the public accountability of the civil list, and solemnly declare that he
would not accept any increase of power without the free consent of the
nation. On these conditions, added the Girondins, it was to be hoped that the
irritation would subside, and that, in time and by perseverance in this sys-
tem, the King would recover die confidence which he had then entirely lost.
Assuredly, the Girondins were very near the attainment of their aim, if a
With the best intentions, but utterly inexperienced in government, he ascended the throne in
1774, when he was hardly twenty years of age. In his countenance, which was not desti-
tute of dignity, were delineated the prominent features of his character — integrity, indecision,
and weakness. He was somewhat stiff in demeanour; and his manners had none of the
grace possessed by almost all the princes of the blood. He was fond of reading, and en-
dowed with a most retentive memory. He translated some parts of Gibbon's history. It was
the fault of this unfortunate monarch to yield too easily to the extravagant tastes of the Queen
and the court. The latter years of his reign were one continued scene of tumult and con-
fusion ; and he was guillotined in 1793, in the 39th year of his age. He was buried in the
Magdalen church-yard, Paris, between the graves of those who were crushed to death in the
crowd at the Louvre, on the anniversary of his marriage in 1774, and of the Swiss who fell
on the 10th of August, 1792." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
" The Revolution wai an inheritance bequeathed to Louis by his ancestors. He was more
fitted than any of those who preceded him, to prevent or terminate it; for he was capable of
being a reformer before it broke out, or of being a constitutional monarch after it. He is per-
haps the only prince who, destitute of passions, had not even that of power. With a little
more strength of mind, Louis would have been a model of a king." — Mignet. E.
308 HISTORY OF THE
republic had been a system for which they had long and steadily conspired.
And, when so near this goal, would they have stopped short, and even have
renounced it, to obtain the ministry for three of their friends ! This was not
likely, and it becomes evident that a republic was desired only from despair
of the monarchy, that it never was a fixed plan, and that, on the very eve of
attaining it, those who are accused of having long paved the way to it would
not sacrifice the public weal for its sake, but would have consented to a con-
stitutional monarchy, if it were accompanied with sufficient safeguards. The
care taken by the Girondins to demand the removal of the foreign troops
plainly proves that they were wholly engrossed by the existing danger ; and
the attention which they paid to the education of the dauphin affords as
strong a proof that monarchy was not to them an insupportable prospect for
the future.
It has been asserted that Brissot, on his part, had made offers to prevent
the dethronement of the King, and that the payment of a very large sum was
one of the conditions. This assertion is advanced by Bertrand de Molleville,
who always dealt in calumny for two reasons — malignity of heart, and false-
ness of mind. But he adduces no proof of it; and the known poverty of
Brissot and his enthusiastic principles ought to answer for him. It is, to be
sure, not impossible that the court might have consigned money to the care
of Brissot; but this would not prove that the money was either asked for or
received by him. The circumstance already related respecting Petion, whom
certain swindlers undertook to bribe for the court — this circumstance, and
many others of the same kind, sufficiendy prove what credit ought to be at-
tached to these charges of venality, so frequently and so easily hazarded.
Besides, let matters stand as they will in regard to Brissot, the three deputies,
Guadet, Gensonne, and Vergniaud, have not even been accused, and they
were the only persons who signed the letter delivered to Boze.
The deeply wounded heart of the King was less capable than ever of list-
ening to their prudent advice. Thierry handed him the letter, but he harshly
pushed it back, and returned his two accustomed answers, that it was not he
but the patriotic ministry who had provoked the war , and that, as for the
constitution, he adhered to it faithfully, whi'st others were exerting all their
efforts to destroy it.* These reasons were not the most just; for, though
he had not provoked the war, it was not the less his duty to earn' it on with
vigour; and, as for his scrupulous fidelity to the letter of the law, the observ-
ance of that letter was of little consequence. It behoved him not to com-
promise the thing itself by calling in foreigners.
• Copy of the Letter written to Citizen Boze, by Gtiadit, Vergniaud, and Genxmni.
You ask us, fir, what is our opinion respecting the preser.t situation of France, and the
choice of the measures that are capable of protecting the pubh~ weal from the urgent dangers
with which it is threatened ; this is a subject of uneasiness to good citizens and the object of
their profoundest meditations.
Since you question us upon such important interests, we shaft not hesitate to explain our
sentiments with frankness.
It can no longer be denied that the conduct of the executive power is the immediate cause
of all the evils that afflict France and of the dangers that surround the throne. They only
deceive the King, who strive to persuade him that exaggerated opinions, the effervescence of
the clubs, the manoeuvres of certain agitators, and powerful factions, have occasioned and
keep up those commotions, the violence of which each day is liable to increase, and the con-
sequences of which it will perhaps be no longer possible to calculate : this is placing the
cause of the disorder in its symptoms.
If the people were easy respecting the success of a revolution so dearly bought, if the
public liberty were no longer in danger, if the conduct of the King excited no distrust,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 309
To the hopes entertained by the Girondins that their counsels would be
followed must no doubt be attributed the moderation which they displayed
opinions would find their level of themselves ; the great mass of the citizens would only think
of enjoying the benefits insured to them by the constitution ; and if, in this state of things,
factions should still exist, they would cease to be dangerous — they would no longer have
either pretext or object.
But, so long as the public liberty shall be in danger, so long as the alarms of the citizens
shall be kept up by the conduct of the executive power, and conspiracies hatched within and
without the realm shall appear to be more or less openly encouraged by the King, this state
of things necessarily produces disturbances, disorder, and factions. In the best-constituted
states, states that have been constituted for ages, revolutions have no other principle ; and
with us the effect must be the more prompt, inasmuch as there has been no interval between
the movements which led to the first and those which seem at this day to indicate a second
revolution.
It is, therefore, but too evident that the present state of things must lead to a crisis, almost
all the chances of which will be against royalty. In fact, the interests of the King are sepa-
rated from those of the nation : the first public functionary of a free nation is made a
party-leader, and, by this horrible policy, the odium of all the evils that afflict France is
thrown upon him.
Ah! what can be the success of the foreign powers, even though, by means of their inter
vention, the authority of the King should be enlarged, and a new form given to the govern-
ment ] Is it not evident that those who have entertained the idea of this congress, have
sacrificed to their prejudices, to their private interest, the very interest of the monarch ; that
the success of these manoeuvres would impart a character of usurpation to powers which the
nation alone delegates, and which nothing but its confidence can uphold 1 Why have they
not perceived that the force which should bring about this change would long be necessary
for its conservation ; and that there would thus be sown in the bosom of the kingdom the
seed of dissensions and discord, which the lapse of several ages could alone stifle !
Alike sincerely and invariably attached to the interests of the nation, from which we
never shall separate those of the King so long as he does not separate them himself, we
think that the only way of preventing the evils with which the empire is threatened and to
restore tranquillity, would be for the King, by his conduct, to put an end to all cause for
alarm, to speak out by facts in the most frank and unequivocal manner, and to surround
himself, in short, with the confidence of the people, which alone constitutes his strength and
can alone constitute his happiness.
It is not at this time of day that he can accomplish this by new protestations ; they would
be derisory, and in the present circumstances they would assume a character of irony, which,
so far from dispelling alarm, would only increase the danger.
There is only one from which any effect could be expected ; namely, a most solemn
declaration that in no case would the King accept any augmentation of power that was not
voluntarily granted by the French people, without the concurrence and intervention of any
foreign power, and freely discussed according to the constitutional forms.
On this head it is even remarked that several members of the National Assembly know
that such a declaration was proposed to the King, when he submitted the proposition for war
against the King of Hungary, and that he did not think fit to make it
But it might perhaps suffice to re-establish confidence, if the King were to prevail on the
coalesced powers to acknowledge the independence of the French nation, to put an end to all
hostilities, and to withdraw the cordons of troops which threaten the frontiers.
It is impossible for a very great part of the nation to help feeling convinced that the King
has it in bis power to dissolve this coalition ; and, so long as it shall endanger the public
liberty, we must not flatter ourselves that confidence can revive.
If the efforts of the King for this purpose were unavailing, he ought at least to assist the
nation, by all the means in his power, to repel the external attack, and not neglect anything
to remove from himself the suspicion of encouraging it.
In this supposition, it is easy to conceive that suspicion and distrust originate in unfortu-
nate circumstances, which it is impossible to change.
To make a crime of these, when the danger is real and cannot be mistaken, is the readiest
way to increase suspicion : to complain of exaggeration, to attack the clubs, to inveigh
against agitators, when the effervescence and agitation are the natural effect of circumstance*,
Is to give them new strength, to augment the perturbation of the people by the very
that are employed to calm it.
310 HISTORY OF THE
when it was proposed to take up the question of the forfeiture of the crown —
a question daily discussed in the clubs, among the groups out of doors, and
in petitions. Whenever they came, in the name of the commission of
twelve, to speak of the danger of the country and the means of preventing
it, they were met by the cry of " Go back to the cause of the danger" —
" To the cause," repeated the tribunes. Vergniaud, Brissot, and the Gi-
rondins, replied that they had their eyes upon the cause, and that in due
time it should be unveiled ; but for the moment it behoved them not to
throw down a fresh apple of discord.
In consequence of an entertainment given to the federalists, the insurrec-
tional committee resolved that its partizans should meet on the morning of
the 26th of July, for the purpose of proceeding to the palace, and that they
should march with the red flag, bearing this inscription : " Tliose who fire
upon the columns of the people shall instantly be put to death." The inten-
Whilst there shall be a subsisting and known action against Kberty, reaction is inevitable,
and the development of both will be equally progressive.
In so arduous a situation, tranquillity can be restored only by the absence of all danger;
and, until this happy period shall arrive, it is of the utmost importance to the nation and to
the King that these unhappy circumstances be not imbittered by conduct, at least equivocal,
on the part of the agents of the executive power.
1 . Why does not the King choose his ministers from among those who are most decided
in favour of the Revolution ? Why, in the most critical moments, is he surrounded only by
men who are unknown or suspected ' If it could be advantageous to the King to increase
the distrust and to excite the people to commotions, could he pursue a more likely course to
foment them !
The selection of ministers has been at all times one of the most important prerogatives of
the power with which the King is invested ; it is the thermometer according to which the
public opinion has always judged of the dispositions of the court ; and it is easy to conceive
what might be at this day the effect of that choice, which, in very different times, would have
excited the most violent murmurs.
A thoroughly patriotic ministry would, therefore, be one of the best means that the King
can employ to restore confidence. But he would egregiously deceive himself, who should
suppose that by a single step of this kind it could be easily recovered. It is only in the
course of time and by continued efforts that one can flatter oneself with the prospect of
erasing impressions too deeply engraven to be removed at the instant to the very slightest
vestige.
2. At a moment when all the means of defence ought to be employed, when France
cannot arm all her defenders, why has not the King offered the muskets and the horses of
his guard ?
3. Why does not the King himself solicit a law for subjecting the civil list to a form of
accountability, which can assure the nation that it is not diverted from its legitimate purpose
and applied to other uses ?
4. One of the best means of making the people easy respecting the personal dispositions
of the King would be for him to solicit himself a law relative to the education of the prince-
royal, and thus hasten the moment when the care of that young prince shall be consigned to
a governor possessing the confidence of the nation.
5. Complaints are still made that the decree for disbanding the staff of the national guard
is not sanctioned. These numerous refusals of sanction to legislative measures which public
opinion earnestly demands, and the urgency of which cannot be mistaken, provoke the
examination of the constitutional question respecting the application of the veto to laws of
circumstance, and are not of such a nature as to dispel alarm and discontent.
6. It is of great importance that the King should withdraw the command of the army
from M. Lafayette. It is at least evident that he cannot usefully serve the public cause there
any longer.
We shall conclude this slight sketch with a general observation : it is this, that whatever
can remove suspicion and revive confidence cannot and ought not to be neglected. The
constitution is saved if the King takes this resolution with courage, and if he persists in it
with firmness.
We are, &c.
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 311
uc.i -vas to make the King prisoner and to confine him at Vincennes. The
iKiii'jial guard at Versailles had been requested to second this movement;
but 'he application had been made so late, and there was so litde concert
with that corps, that its officers came on the very same morning to the
mayor's residence at Paris, to inquire how they were to act. The secret
M ill kept that the court was already apprized of it. All the royal
family was stirring, and the palace was full of people. Petion perceiving
that the measures had not been judiciously taken, fearful of some treachery,
and considering moreover that the Marseillais had not yet arrived, repaired
in the utmost haste to the fauxbourg, to stop a movement which must have
ruined the popular party if it had not succeeded.
The tumult in the fauxbourgs was tremendous. The tocsin had been
ringing Uiere all night. The rumour spread for the purpose of exciting the
people was, that a quantity of arms had been collected in the palace, and
they were uiged to go and bring them away. Petion succeeded, with great
difficulty, in restoring order, and Champion de Cice, keeper of the seals,
who also repaired to the spot, received several sabre strokes. At length the
people consented to stay, and the insurrection was deferred.
The petty quarrels and wranglings which are the usual prelude to a defini-
tive rupture, continued without intermission. The King had caused the
garden of the. Tuileries to be closed ever since the 20th of June. The
Terrace of the Feuillans, leading to the Assembly, was alone open; and the
sentries had directions not to suffer any person to pass from that terrace into
the garden. D'Espremenil was there met conversing loudly with a deputy.
He was hooted, pursued into the garden, and carried to the Palais Royal,
where he received several wounds. The prohibition to penetrate into the
garden having been violated, a motion was made for supplying its place by
a decree. The decree, however, was not passed. It was merely proposed
to set up a board with the words, " It is forbidden to trespass on these
grounds." The board was accordingly erected, and it was sufficient to pre-
vent the people from setting foot in the garden, though the King had caused
the sentries to be removed. Thus courtesy ceased to be any longer observed.
A letter from Nancy, for instance, reported several civic traits which had
occurred in that city. The Assembly immediately sent a copy of it to the
King.
At length, on the 30th of July, the Marseillais arrived. They were five
hundred in number, and their ranks comprised all the most fiery spirits that
the South could produce, and all the most turbulent characters that com-
merce brought to the port of Marseilles. Barbaroux went to Charenton to
meet them. On this occasion a new scheme was concerted with Santerre.
It was proposed, upon pretext of going to meet the Marseillais, to collect the
people of the fauxbourgs, and afterwards to repair in good order to the Car-
rousel, and there encamp without tumult, until the Assembly had suspended
the King, or till he had abdicated of his own accord.
This project pleased the philanthropists of the party, who would fain have
terminated the Revolution without bloodshed. It failed, however, because
Santerre did not succeed in assembling the fauxbourg, and could lead only a
small number of men to meet the Marseillais. Santerre immediately offered
them a repast, which was served up in the Champs Elyse'es. On the same
day, and at the same moment, a party of the national guards of the battalion
of the Filles St. Thomas, and of other persons, clerks or military men,
wholly devoted to the court, were dining near the spot where the Marseillais
»ere being entertained. Most assuredly this dinner had not been prepared
312 HISTORY OF THE
with the intention of disturbing that of the Marseillais, since the offer made to
the latter was unexpected, for, instead of an entertainment, it was an insur-
rection that had been contemplated. It was, nevertheless, impossible for
neighbours so adverse to finish their repast quietly. The populace insulted
the royalists, who put themselves upon the defensive. The patriots, sum-
moned to the aid of the populace, hastened with ardour to die place, and a
battle ensued. It was not long, for the Marseillais, rushing upon their ad-
versaries, put them to flight, killing one, and wounding several others. In
a moment all Paris was in commotion. The federalists paraded the streets,
and tore off the cockades of ribbon, saying that they ought to be made of
woollen.
Some of the fugitives arrived, covered with blood, at the Tuileries, where
they were kindly received, and attentions were paid to them which were
perfectly natural, since they were regarded as friends who had suffered for
their attachment. The national guards on duty at the palace related these
particulars, perhaps added to them, and this furnished occasion for fresh
reports, and fresh animosity against the royal family and the ladies of the
court, who, it was said, had wiped off the perspiration and the blood of the
wounded. It was even concluded that the scene had been prepared, and
this was the motive for a new accusation against the court.
The national guard of Paris immediately petitioned for the removal of
the Marseillais ; but it was hooted by the tribunes, and its petition proved
unsuccessful.
Amidst these proceedings, a paper attributed to the Prince of Brunswick,
and soon ascertained to be authentic, was circulated. We have already ad-
verted to the mission of Mallet du Pan. He had furnished, in the name of
the King, the idea and model of a manifesto ; but this idea was soon dis-
torted. Another manifesto, inspired by the passions of Coblentz, was signed
with the name of Brunswick, and distributed in advance of the Prussian
army. This paper was couched in the following terms :
"Their majesties the Emperor and the King of Prussia having intrusted
me with the command of the combined armies assembled by their orders on
the frontiers of France, I am desirous to acquaint the inhabitants of that
kingdom with the motives which have determined the measures of the two
sovereigns, and the intentions by which they are guided.
" After having arbitrarily suppressed the rights and possessions of the
German princes in Alsace and Lorraine ; deranged and overthrown good
order and the legitimate government in the interior ; committed against the
sacred person of the King and his august family outrages and attacks of
violence which are still continued and renewed from day to day ; those who
have usurped the reins of the administration have at length filled up the
measure by causing an unjust war to be declared against his majesty the
emperor, and attacking his provinces situated in die Netherlands: some of
the possessions of the Germanic empire have been involved in this oppres-
sion, and several others have escaped the same danger solely by yielding to
the imperative menaces of the predominant party and its emissaries.
" His majesty the King of Prussia, united with his imperial majesty by
the bonds of a close and defensive alliance, and himself a preponderating
member of the Germanic body, has therefore not been able to forbear
marching to the aid of his ally and his co-states ; and it is in this twofold
relation that he takes upon himself the defence of that monarch and of
Germany.
" With these great interests an object equally important is joined, and
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 313
which the two sovereigns have deeply at heart ; namely, to put an end to
the anarchy in the interior of France, to stop the attacks directed against the
throne and the altar, to re-establish the legal power, to restore to the King
the security and liberty of which he is deprived, and to place him in a con-
dition to exercise the legitimate authority which is his due.
" Convinced tbat the sound part of the French nation abhors the excesses
of a faction which domineers over it, and that the majority of the inhabitants
await with impatience the moment of succour, to declare themselves openly
BgaiMl the odious enterprises of their oppressors, his majesty the Emperor,
and his majesty the King of Prussia, call upon and invite them to return
without delay to the ways of reason and justice, of order and peace.
Agreeably to these views, I, the undersigned, commander-in-chief of the two
armies, declare,
" 1. That the two allied courts, forced into the present war by irresistible
circumstances, propose to themselves no other aim than the happiness of
France, without pretending to enrich themselves by conquests ;
" 2. That they intend not to interfere in the internal government of France,
but are solely desirous to deliver the King, the Queen, and the royal family
from their captivity, and to procure for his most Christian majesty the
safety necessary to enable him to make without danger, without impediment,
such convocations as he shall think proper, and labour to insure the happi-
ness of his subjects, agreeably to his promises and in as far as it shall
depend upon him ;
" 3. That the combined armies will protect the cities, towns, and villages,
and the persons and property of all those who shall submit to the King, and
that they will concur in the instantaneous re-establishment of order and
police throughout France.
" 4. That the national guards are summoned to watch ad interim over the
tranquillity of the towns and of the country, and over the safety of the per-
sons and property of all the French, till the arrival of the troops of their im-
perial and royal majesties, or till it shall be otherwise ordained, upon penalty
of being held personally • responsible ; that, on the contrary, such of the
national guards as shall have fought against the troops of the two allied
courts, and who shall be taken in arms, shall be treated as enemies and
punished as rebels to their King, and as disturbers of the public peace ;
" 5. That the generals, officers, subalterns, and soldiers of the French
troops of the line, are in like manner summoned to return to their ancient
fidelity, and to submit forthwith to the King, their legitimate sovereign ;
" 6. That the members of the departments, districts, and municipalities,
shall, in like manner, be responsible with their lives and property for all
misdemeanors, fires, murders, pillage, and acts of violence which they shall
suffer to be committed, or which they shall notoriously not strive to prevent,
in their territory ; that they shall, in like manner, be required to continue
their functions ad interim, till his most Christian majesty, restored to full
liberty, shall have made ulterior provisions, or till it shall have been other-
wise ordained in his name, in the mean time ;
" 7. That the inhabitants of the cities, towns, and villages, who shall dare
to defend themselves against the troops of their imperial and royal majesties
and to fire upon them, either in the open field, or from the windows, doors,
and apertures of their houses, shall be instantly punished with all the rigour
of the law of war, and their houses demolished or burned. All the inhabit-
ants, on the contrary, of the said cities, towns, and villages, who shall readily
submit to their King, by opening the gates to the troops of their majesties,
vol. i.— 40 £ D
314 HISTORY OF THE
shall be from that moment under their immediate safeguard. Their persons,
their property, their effects, shall be under the protection of the laws ; and
provision shall be made for the general safety of all and each of them ;
" 8. The city of Paris and all its inhabitants without distinction are re-
quired to submit immediately and without delay to the King, to set that
prince at full and entire liberty, and to insure to him, as well as to all the
royal personages, the inviolability and respect which the law of nature and
nations renders obligatory on subjects towards their sovereigns ; their impe-
rial and royal majesties holding personally responsible with their lives for
all that may happen, to be tried militarily, and without hope of pardon, all
the members of the National Assembly, of the department, of die district, of
the municipality, and of the national guard of Paris, the justices of the peace,
and all others whom it shall concern ; their said majesties declaring, more-
over, on their faith and word, as emperor and king, that if the palace of the
Tuileries is forced or insulted, that if the least violence, the least outrage, is
offered to their majesties the King and Queen, and to the royal family, if
immediate provision is not made for their safety, their preservation, and their
liberty, they will take an exernplary and ever-memordble vengeance by giv-
ing up the city of Paris to military execution and total destruction, and die
rebels guilty of outrages, to the punishments which they shall have deserved.
Their imperial and royal majesties on the other hand promise the inhabitants
of the city of Paris to employ their good offices widi his most Christian
majesty to obtain pardon of their faults and misdeeds, and to take the most
vigorous measures for the security of their persons and property, if they
promptly and strictly obey the above injunctions.
" Lastly, their majesties, unable to recognise as laws in France any but
those which shall emanate from the King, enjoying perfect liberty, protest
beforehand against the authenticity of all the declarations which may be
made in the name of his most Christian majesty, so long as his sacred per-
son, that of the Queen, and of the whole royal family, shall not be really iu
safety ; to the effect of which their imperial and royal majesties invite and
solicit his most Christian majesty to name the city of his kingdom nearest
to its frontiers, to which he shall think fit to retire widi the Queen and his
family, under a good and safe escort, which shall be sent to him for this
purpose, in order that his most Christian majesty may be enabled in com-
plete safety to call around him such ministers and councillors as he shall
please to appoint, make such convocations as shall to him appear fitUng,
provide for the re-establishment of good order, and regulate the administra-
tion of his kingdom.
" Finally, I again declare and promise in my own private name, and in
my aforesaid quality, to make the troops placed under my command observe
good and strict discipline, engaging to treat with kindness and moderation
those well-disposed subjects who shall show themselves peaceful and sub-
missive, and not to employ force unless against such as shall be guilty of
resistance or hostility.
M For these reasons, I require and exhort all the inhabitants of the kingdom,
in the strongest and the most earnest manner, not to oppose the march and
the operations of the troops which I command, but rather to grant them
everywhere free entrance and all goodwill, aid, and assistance, that circum-
stances may require.
*« Given at the head-quarters at Coblentz, the 25th of July, 1792.
11 (Signed) Charles William Fkrdinanp.
Duke of Brunswick-Luneburg."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 315
What appeared surprising in this declaration was that, dated on the 25th
of July, at Coblentz, it should be in Paris on the 28th, and be printed in all
the royalist newspapers. It produced an extraordinary effect.* Promises
poured in from all quarters to resist an enemy whose language was so haughty
and whose threats were so terrible. In the existing state of minds, it was
natural that the King and the court should be accused of this new fault.
Louis XVI. lost no time in disavowing the manifesto by a message, and he
could no doubt do so with the utmost sincerity, since this paper was so dif-
ferent from the model which he had proposed ; but he must already have
seen, from this example, how far his intentions would be exceeded by his
party, should that party ever be victorious. Neither his disavowal, nor the
expressions with which it was accompanied, could satisfy the Assembly.
Adverting to the people whose happiness had always been so dear to him,
he added, " How many sorrows might be dispelled by the slightest mark of
its return to loyalty !"
These impressive words no longer excited the enthusiasm which they had
in times past the gift of producing. They were regarded as the language
of deceit, and many of die deputies voted for their being printed, in order,
as they said, to render public the contrast which existed between the words
and the conduct of the King. From that moment, the agitation continued to
increase, and circumstances became more and more aggravated. Intelligence
was received of a resolution (arrite) by which the department of the Bouches
du Rhone withheld the taxes for the purpose of paying the troops which it
had sent against the forces of Savoy, and charged the measures taken by the
Assembly with insufficiency. This was the effect of the instigations of Bar-
baroux. The resolution was annulled by the Assembly, but its execution
could not be prevented. It was rumoured, at the same time, that the Sar-
dinians, who were advancing, amounted to fifty thousand. The minister for
foreign affairs was obliged to repair in person to the Assembly, to assure it
that the troops collected did not exceed at the utmost eleven or twelve thou-
sand men. This report was followed by another. It was asserted that the
small number of federalists who had at that time proceeded to Soissons, had
been poisoned with glass mixed up with the bread. It was even affirmed
that one hundred and sixty were already dead, and eight hundred ill. In-
quiries were made, and it was ascertained that the flour was kept in a church,
the windows of which had been broken, and a few bits of glass had been
found in the bread. There was, however, not one person either dead or ill.
On the 25th of July, a decree had rendered all the sections of Paris per-
manent. They had met and had directed Petion to propose in their name
the dethronement of Louis XVI. On the morning of the 3d of August, the
mayor of Paris, emboldened by this commission, appeared before the As-
sembly to present a petition in the name of the forty-eight sections of Paris.
He reviewed the conduct of Louis XVI. ever since the commencement of the
Revolution ; he recapitulated, in the language of the time, the benefits con-
ferred by the nation on the King, and the return which the K»g had made
for diem. He expatiated on the dangers by which all minds were struck,
the arrival of the foreign armies, the total inadequacy of the means of defence,
the revolt of a general against the Assembly, the opposition of a great num-
• " Had this manifesto been couched in more moderate language, and followed up by a
rapid and energetic military movement, it might have had the desired effect; but coming, as
it did, in a moment of extreme public excitation, and enforced, as if was, by the most feeble
and inefficient military measures, it contributed in a signal manner to accelerate the march
of the Revolution, and was the immediate cause of the downfall of the throne." — Alison. E,
316 HISTORY OF THE
ber of the departmental directories, and the terrible and absurd threats issued
in the name of Brunswick. In consequence, he concluded by proposing the
dethronement of the King, and prayed the Assembly to insert that important
question in the order of the day.
This important proposition, which had as yet been made only by clubs,
federalists, and communes, assumed a very different character on being pre-
sented in the name of Paris, and by its mayor. It was received rather with
astonishment than favour in the morning sitting. But in the evening the
discussion commenced, and the ardour of one part of the Assembly was dis-
played without reserve.* Some were for taking up the question forthwith,
others for deferring it. It was, however, adjourned till Thursday, the 9th
of August, and the assembly continued to receive and to read petitions, ex-
pressing, with still greater energy than that of the mayor, the same wish and
the same sentiments.
The section of Mauconseil, more violent than the others, instead of merely
demanding the King's dethronement, pronounced it of its own authority. It
declared that it no longer acknowledged Louis XVI. as King of the French,
and that it should soon come to ask the legislative body if it at length meant
to save France. Moreover, it exhorted all the sections of the empire — for
it avoided the use of the term kingdom — to follow its example.
The Assembly, as we have already seen, did not follow the insurrectional
movement so promptly as the inferior authorities, because, being specially
charged with the maintenance of the laws, it was obliged to pay them more
respect. Thus it found itself frequently outstripped by the popular bodies,
and saw the power slipping out of its hands. It therefore annulled the reso-
lution of the section of Mauconseil. Vergniaud and Cambon employed the
most severe expressions against that act, which they called a usurpation of
the sovereignty of the people. It appears, however, that it was not so much
the principle as the precipitation which they condemned in this resolution,
and particularly the indecorous language applied in it to the Assembly.
A crisis was now approaching. On the same day a meeting was held of
the insurrectional committee of the federalists, and of the King's friends, who
were preparing for his flight. The committee deferred the insurrection till
the day when the dethronement should be discussed, that is, till the evening
of the 9th of August, or the morning of the 10th. The King's friends, on
their part, were deliberating respecting his flight in the garden of M. de
Montmorin. Messrs. de Liancourt and de Lafayette renewed their offers.
Everything was arranged for departure. Money, however, was wanting.
Bertrand de Molleville had uselessly exhausted the civil list by paying
royalist clubs, spouters in tribunes, speakers to groups, pretended bribers,
who bribed nobody, but put the funds of the court into their own pockets.
The want of money was supplied by loans which generous persons eagerly
offered to the King. The offers of M. de Liancourt have already been men-
tioned. He gave all the gold that he was able to procure. Others furnished
as much as |hey possessed. Devoted friends prepared to accompany the
carriage that was to convey the royal family, and, if it were necessary, to
perish by its side.
Everything being arranged, the councillors who had met at the house of
Montmorin decided upon the departure, after a conference which lasted a
* " The question of abdication was discussed with a degree of phrensy. Such of the
deputies as opposed the motion were abused, ill-treated, and surrounded by assassins. They
had a battle to fight at every step they took ; and at length they did not dare to sleep in theit
houses." — Montjoie. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 317
whole evening. The King, who saw them immediately afterwards, assented
to this resolution, and ordered them to arrange with Messrs. de Montciel and
de Sainte-Cmix. Whatever might be the opinions of those who agreed to
this enterprise, it was a great joy to them to believe for a moment in the ap-
proaching deliverance of the monarch.*
But the next day everything was changed. The King directed this
answer to be given, that he should not leave Paris, because he would not
bafin n civil war. All those who, with very different sentiments, felt an
eqttal degree of anxiety for him, were thunderstruck. They learned that the
real motive was not that assigned by the King. The real one was, in the
first place, the arrival of Brunswick, announced as very near at hand ; in the
next, the adjournment of the insurrection; and, above all, the refusal of the
Queen to trust the constitutionalists. She had energetically expressed her
aversion, saying that it would be better to perish than to put themselves into
the hands of those who had done them so much mischief.t
Thus all the efforts made by the constitutionalists, all the dangers to which
they had exposed themselves, were useless. Lafayette had seriously com-
mitted himself. It was known that he had prevailed on Luckner to march,
in case of need, to the capital. The latter, summoned before the Assembly,
had confessed everything to the extraordinary committee of twelve. Old
Luckner was weak and fickle. When he passed out of the hands of one
party into those of another, he suffered the avowal of all that he had heard
or said on the preceding day to be wrung from him, and afterwards alleged,
in excuse of these confessions, that he was unacquainted with the French
language, wept, and complained that he was surrounded by factious persons
* The following paper is one of those quoted by M. de Lally-Tollendal in his letter to the
King of Prussia :
Copy of the Minute of a sitting held on the 4th of August, 1792, in the handtvriting of
Lally-Tollendal.
August 4.
M. de Montmorin, late minister of foreign affairs — M. Bertrand, late minister of the ma-
rine— M. de Clermont-Tonnerre — M. de Lally-Tollendal — M. Malouet — M. de Gouvernet —
M. de Gilliere.
Three hours' deliberation in a sequestered spot in M. de Montmorin's garden. Each
reported what he had discovered. I had received an anonymous letter, in which the writer
informed me of a conversation at Santerre's, announcing the plan of marching to the Tuile-
ries, killing the King in the fray, and seizing the prince-royal, to do with him whatever cir-
cumstances should require; or, if the King was not killed, to make all the royal family pri-
soners. We all resolved that the King should leave Paris, at whatever risk, escorted by the
Swiss, and by ourselves and our friends, who were pretty numerous. We reckoned upon M.
de Liancourt, who had offered to come to Rouen to meet the King, and also upon M. de
Lafayette. As we were finishing our deliberations, M. de Malesherbes arrived ; he came to
urge Madame de Montmorin and her daughter, Madame de Beaumont, to depart, saying that
the crisis was at hand, and that Paris was no longer a fit place for women. In consequence
of the news brought us by M. de Malesherbes, we agreed that M. de Montmorin should go
immediately to the palace to inform the King of what we had learned and resolved. The King
seemed to assent in the evening, and told M. de Montmorin to confer with M. de Sainte-Croix,
who, with M. de Montciel, was also engaged in devising a plan for the King's departure. We
went next day to the palace ; I had a long conversation with the Duke de Choiseuil, who was
entirely of our opinion, and anxious that the King should depart at any risk whatever, as he
would rather expose himself to every danger than commence a civil war. We were informed
that the deposition would be pronounced on the Thursday following. I knew of no other
resource than the army of M. de Lafayette. I sent off on the 8th the rough draught of a letter,
which I advised him to write to the Duke of Brunswick, as soon ai he should receive the
first news of the deposition, &c.
j- 8ee Memoirs de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 125.
2D2
318 . HISTORY OF THE
only. Guadet had the address to draw from him a confession of Lafayette's
proposals, and Bureau de Puzy, accused of having been the intermediate
agent, was summoned to the bar. He was one of the friends and officers
of Lafayette. He denied everything with assurance, and in a tone which
persuaded the committee that the negotiations of his general were unknown
to him. The question whether Lafayette should be placed under accusation
was adjourned.
The day fixed for the discussion of the dethronement approached. The
plan of the insurrection was settled and known. The Marseillais, whose
barracks were at the- farthest extremity of Paris, had repaired to the section
of the Cordeliers, where the club of that name was held. They were in the
heart of Paris and close to the scene of action. Two municipal officers had
had the boldness to order cartridges to be distributed among the conspirators.
In short, everything was ready for the 10th.
On the 8th, the question concerning Lafayette was discussed. It was
decided by a strong majority that there was not sufficient ground for an ac-
cusation. Some of the deputies, irritated at this acquittal, insisted on a
division ; and, on this new trial, four hundred and forty-six members had
the courage to vote in favour of the general against two hundred and eighty.
The people, roused by this intelligence, collected about the door of the hall,
insulted the deputies as they went out, and particularly maltreated those who
were known to belong to the right side of the Assembly, such as Vaublanr,
Girardin, Dumas, &c. From all quarters abuse was poured forth against
the national representation, and the people loudly declared that there was bo
longer any safety with an Assembly which could absolve the traitor Lafayette. *
On the following day, August 9th, an extraordinary agitation prevailed
among the deputies. Those who had been insulted the day before com-
plained personally or by letter. When it was stated that M. Beaucaron had
narrowly escaped being hanged, a barbarous peal of laughter burst from the
tribunes ; and when it was added that M. de Girardin had been struck, even
those who knew how and where, ironically put the question to him.
"What!" nobly replied M. de Girardin, " know you not that cowards never
strike but behind one's back ?" At length a member called for the order of
the day. The Assembly, however, decided that Roederer, the -procurtU)-
syndic of the commune,t should be summoned to the bar, and enjoined, upon
his personal responsibility, to provide for the safety and the inviolability of
the members of the Assembly.
It was proposed to send for the mayor of Paris, and to oblige him to de-
clare, yes or no, whether he could answer for the public tranquillity. Guadet
answered this proposition by another for summoning the King also, and
obliging him in his turn to declare, yes or no, whether he could answer for
the safety and inviolability of the territory.
Amidst these contrary suggestions, however, it was easy to perceive that
the Assembly dreaded the decisive moment, and that the Girondins them-
• " Lafayette was burnt in effigy by the Jacobins, in the gardens of the Tuilerie-." —
Prudhomme. E.
\ " P. L. Roederer, deputy from the tiers-elat of the bailiwick of Metz, embraced the cause
of the Revolution. On the 10th of August, he interested himself in the fate of the Kirn:.
gave some orders for his safety ; and at last advised him to repair to the Assembly, which
completed the ruin of Louis, and compromised Rcederer. Having survived the K
Terror, he devoted himself to editing the Journal of Paris; and in conjunction with Volney,
Talleyrand, and others, helped to bring on the Revolution of the 18th Brumaire, 1799. He
was an able journalist, temperate in his principles, and concise and vigorous in his style." —
Biographic Modernc. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 319
selves would rather have brought about the dethronement by a deliberation,
than recur to a doubtful and murderous attack: During these proceedings
Roederer arrived, and stated that one section had determined to ring the
tocsin, and to march upon the Assembly and the Tuileries, if the dethrone
ment were not pronounced. Petion entered, in his turn. He did not speak
out in a positive manner, but admitted the existence of sinister projects. He
enumerated the precautions taken to prevent the threatened commotions, and
promised to confer with the department, and to adopt its measures, if they
appeared to him better than those of the municipality.
Petion, as well as all his Girondin friends, preferred a declaration of de-
thronement by the Assembly to an uncertain combat with the palace. Being
almost sure of a majority for the dethronement, he would fain have put a
stop to the plans of the insurrectional committee. He repaired, therefore,
to the committee of surveillance of the Jacobins, and begged Chabot to sus-
pend the insurrection, telling him that the Girondins had resolved upon the
dethronement and the immediate convocation of a national convention ; that
they were sure of a majority, and that it was wrong to run the risk of an
attack, the result of which was doubtful. Chabot replied that nothing was
to be hoped for from an assembly which had absolved the scoundrel La-
fayette ; that he, Petion, allowed himself to be deceived by his friends ; that
the people had at length resolved to save themselves ; and that the tocsin
would be rung that very evening in the fauxbourgs. " Will you always be
wrong-headed, then?" replied Petion. " Wo betide us if there is a rising!
... I know your influence, but I have influence too, and will employ it
against you." — " You shall be arrested and prevented from acting," re-
joined Chabot.
People's minds were in fact too highly excited for the fears of Petion to
be understood, and for him to be able to exercise his influence. A general
agitation pervaded Paris. The drum beat the call in all quarters. The
battalions of the national guard assembled, and repaired to their posts, with
very»discordant dispositions. The sections were filled, not with the greater
number, but with the most ardent of the citizens. The insurrectional com-
mittee had formed at three points. Fournier and some others were in the
fauxbourg St. Marceau ; Santerre and Westermann occupied the fauxbourg
St. Antoine ; lasdy, Danton, Camille Des-Moulins, and Carra, were at the
Cordeliers with the Marseilles battalion. Barbaroux, after stationing scouts
at the Assembly and the palace, had provided couriers ready to start for the
South. He had also provided himself with a dose of poison, such was the
uncertainty of success, and awaited at the Cordeliers the result of the insur-
rection. It is not known where Robespierre was. Danton had concealed
Marat in a cellar belonging to the section, and had then taken possession of
the tribune of the Cordeliers. Every one hesitated, as on the eve of a great
resolution ; but Danton, with a daring proportionate to the importance of the
event, raised his thundering voice. He enumerated what he called the
crimes of the court. He expatiated on the hatred of the latter to the consti-
tution, its deceitful language, its hypocritical promises, always belied by its
conduct, and lastly, its evident machinations for bringing in foreigners.
" The people," said he, " can now have recourse but to themselves, for the
constitution is insufficient, and the Assembly has absolved Lafayette. You
have, therefore, none left to save you but yourselves. Lose no time, then ;
for, this very night, satellites concealed in the palace are to sally forth upon
the people and to slaughter them, before they leave Paris to repair to Co-
blentz. Save yourselves, then ! To arms ! to arms !"
320 HISTORY OF THE
At this moment a musket was fired in the Cour du Commerce. The cry
To arms! soon became general, and the insurrection was proclaimed. It
was then half-past eleven. The Marseillais formed before the door of the
Cordeliers, seized some pieces of cannon, and were soon reinforced by a
numerous concourse, which ranged itself by their side. Camille Desmoulins
and others ran out to order the tocsin to be rung ; but they did not find the
same ardour in the different sections. They strove to rouse their zeal. The
sections soon assembled and appointed commissioners to repair to the Hotel
de Ville, for the purpose of superseding the municipality and taking all the
authority into their own hands. Lastly, they ran to the bells, made them-
selves master of them by main force, and the tocsin began to ring. This
dismal sound pervaded the whole extent of the capital. It was wafted from
street to street, from building to building. It called the deputies, the magis-
trates, the citizens, to their posts. At length it reached the palace, proclaim-
ing that the terrible night was come ; that fatal night, that night of agitation
and blood, destined to be the last which the monarch should pass in the
palace of his ancestors !*
Emissaries of the court came to apprize it that the moment of the catas-
trophe was at hand. They reported the expression used by the President
of the Cordeliers, who had told his people that this was not to be, as on
the 20th of June, a mere civic promenade ; meaning that, if the 20th of June
had been the threat, the 10th of August was the decisive stroke. On that
point, in fact, there was no longer room for doubt. The King, the Queen,
their two children, and their sister, Madame Elizabeth, had not retired to
bed, but had gone after supper into the council-chamber, where all the mi-
nisters and a great number of superior officers were deliberating, in dismay,
on the means of saving the royal family. The means of resistance were
feeble and had been almost annihilated, either by decrees of the Assembly,
or by the false measures of the court itself.
The constitutional guard, dissolved by a decree of the Assembly, had not
been replaced by the King, who had chosen rather to continue its pay to it
than to form a new one. The force of the palace was thus diminished by
eighteen hundred men.
The regiments whose disposition had appeared favourable to the King at
the time of the last Federation had been removed from Paris by the accus-
tomed expedient of decrees.
The Swiss could not be removed, owing to their capitulations, but their
artillery had been taken from them ; and the court, when it had, for a mo-
ment, decided upon flight to Normandy, had sent thither one of those faithful
battalions, upon pretext of guarding supplies of corn that were expected.
This battalion had not yet been recalled. Some Swiss only, in barracks at
Courbevoie, had been authorized by Petion to come back, and they amounted
altogether to no more thah eight or nine hundred men.
The gendarmerie had recently been composed of the old soldiers of the
French guards, the authors of the 14th of July.
LasUy, the national guard had neither the same officers, nor the same
• MAt midnight a cannon was fired, the tocsin sounded, and the gfntrale beat to arms in
every quarter of Paris. The survivors of the bloody catastrophe, which was about to com-
mence, have portrayed in the strongest colours the horrors of that awful night, when the
oldest monarchy in Europe tottered to its fall. The incessant clang of the tocsin, the roll of
the drums, the raUling of artillery and ammunition-wagons along the streets, the cries of the
insurgents, the march of the columns, rung in their ears for long after, even in the moments
of festivity and rejoicing."— Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 321
organization, nor the same attachment, as on the 6th of October, 1789.
The stall', as we have seen, had been reconstituted. A great number of
citizens had become disgusted with the service, and those who had not
I id their post were intimidated by the fury of the populace. Thus the
national guard was, like all the bodies of the state, composed of a new revo-
lutionary generation. It was divided, with the whole of Prance, into con-
stitutionalists and republicans. The whole battalion of the Fill*
Thomas, and part of that of the PetitS Peres, were attached to the King.
The others were either indifferent or hostile. The gunners, in particular,
who composed the principal strength, were decided republicans. The
fatigues incident to tin- duty of the latter had deterred the wealthy citizens
from undertaking it. Locksmiths and blacksmiths were thus left in posses-
sion of the guns, and almost all of them, belonging to the populace, partook
of its dispositions.
Thus the King had left him about ci<rhtor nine hundred Swiss, and rather
more than one battalion of the national guard.
It will he recollected that the command of the national guard, after La-
fayette's removal, had been transferred to six commanders of legions in
rotation. It had fallen, on that day, to the commandant Mandat, an old
officer, displeasing to the court for his constitutional opinions, but possessing
its entire confidence, from his firmness, his intelligence, and his attachment
to his duties. Mandat, general-in-chief on that fatal night, had hastily made
the only possible dispositions.
The iloor of the great gallery leading from the Louvre to the Tuileries
had already been cut away for a certain space, to prevent the passage of the
assailants. Mandat, in consequence, took no precautions for protecting that
wiu<_r, hut directed his attention to the side next to the courts and the garden.
Notwithstanding- the signal by drum, few of the national guards had aasem-
bled. The battalions remained incomplete. The most zealous of them
proceeded singly to the palace, where Mandat had formed them into regi-
ments and posted them conjointly with the Swiss, in the courts, the garden,
and the apartments. lie had placed one piece of cannon in the court of the
Swiss, three in the central court, and three in that of the princes.
These trims were unfortunately consigned to gunners of the national sruard,
so that the enemy was actually in the fortress. Hut the Swiss, full of zeal
and loyalty, watched them narrowly, ready at the first movement to make
themselves masters of their guns, and to drive them out of the precincts of
the palace.
Mandat had moreover placed some advanced posts of gendarmerie at the
colonnade of the Louvre and the Hotel de Yille; hut this gendarmerie, as
we have already shown, was composed of old French guards.
To these defenders of the palace must he added a great number of old
hose aire or whose moderation had prevented them from emi-
grating, and who, in the moment of danger, had come forward, some to
absolve themselves for not having gone to Cohlentz, others to die generously
by the side of their prince. They had hastily provided themselves with all
the weapons that they could procure in the palace. They were armed with
swords, and pistols fastened to their waists by pocket-handkerchiefs. Some
had even taken tongs and shovels from the fire-places.* Thus there w;is no
•
• " M. dfl St. Sou])let, one of the King's equerries, and a page, instead of muskets, carried
upon their shoulders the tongs belonging to the King's antechamber, which they had broken,
and divided between them." — Madame Campan. E.
VOL. I. 41
322 HISTORY OF THE
want of jokes at this awful moment, when the court ought to have been
serious at least for once. This concourse of useless persons, instead of ren-
dering it any service, merely obstructed the national guard, which could not
reckon upon it, and tended only to increase the confusion, which wa.s aire
too great.
All the members of the departmental directory had repaired to the palace.
The virtuous Duke de Larochefoucauld was there. Roederer, the procureur
syndic, was there, too. Petion was sent for, and he repaired thither with
two municipal officers. Petion was urged to sign an order for re|H 11 insr force
by force, and he did sign it, that he might not appear to he an accomplice
of the insurgents. Considerable joy was felt in having him at the palace,
and in holding, in his person, an hostage so dear to the people. The As-
sembly, apprized of this intention, summoned him to the bar by a decree.
The King, who was advised to detain him, refused to do so, and he therefore
left the Tuileries without impediment.
The order to repel force by force once obtained, various opinions were
expressed relative to the manner of using it. In this state of excitement,
more than one silly project must necessarily have presented itself. There
was one sufficiently bold, and which might probably have succeeded; this
was to prevent the attack by dispersing the insurgents, who were not
very numerous, and who, with the Marseillais, formed at most a lew thou-
sand men. At this moment, in fact, the fauxbourir St. Marceau was nut vet
formed; Santerre hesitated in the fauxbourir St. Antoine; Danton alone, and
the Marseillais had ventured to form at the Cordeliers, and they were wai
with impatience at the Pont St. Michel for the arrival of the other assailants.
A vigorous sally might have dispersed them, and, at this moment of hesi-
tation, a movement of terror would infallibly have prevented the insurrection.
Another course, more safe and legal, was that proposed by Mandat, namely,
to await the march of the fauxbourgs ; but, as soon as they should be in
motion, to attack them at two decisive points. He suggested, in the first
place, that when one party of them should debouch upon the Place of the
H&tel de Ville, by the arcade of St. Jean, they should he suddenly char
and that, at the Louvre, those who should come by the Pont Neuf, along the
quay of the Tuileries, should be served in the same manner. He had actu-
ally ordered the gendarmerie posted at the colonnade to suffer the insurgents
to file past, then to charge them in the rear, while the gendarmerie, stationed
at the Carrousel, were to pour through the wickets of the Louvre, and
attack them in front. The success of such plans was almost certain. The
necessary orders had already been given by Mandat to the commandants
the different posts, and especially to that of the Hotel de \ die.
We have already seen that a new municipality had just been formed there.
Among the members. of the former, Danton and .Manuel onlj were retained.
The order was shown to (his insurrectional municipality. It immediately
summoned the commandant to appear at the Hotel de Ville. The BummoBI
was carried to the palace. Mandat hesitated; but those about him and the
members of the department themselves, nut knowing what had happened,
and not deeming it riuht yet to infringe the law by refusing to appear,
horted him to comply. .Mandat then decided. He put into the hands of
his son, who was with him at the palace, the order signed by Petion to repel
for^e by force, and obeyed the summons of the municipality. It was about
four o'clock in the morning. On reaching the Hotel de Ville, he was sur-
prised to find there n new authority. Wr was instantly surrounded and
questioned concerning the order which he had issued. He was then dis-
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION. w 323
missed, and in dismissing him the president made a sijrn which was equiva-
lent to sentence of death. No sooner had the unfortunate commandant
retired than he was seized and shot with ■ pistol. The murderers stripped
him of his clothes, without finding ahout him the order, which he had de-
livered t<> his son, and his hody was thrown into the river, whither it was
soon to be followed by so many others.
This sanguinary deed paralyzed all the means of defence of the palace,
destroyed all unity, and prevented the execution of the plan of defence. All
however, was not yet lost, and the insurrection was not completely formed.
The Marseillais had impatiently waited for the fauxbourg St. Antoine, which
did not arrive, and for a moment they concluded that the plan had miscarried.
But Westermann had pointed his sword to the body of-Santerre, and forced
him to march. The fauxbourgs had then successively arrived, some by the
Rue St. Honore, others by the Pont Neuf, the Pont Royal, and the wickets
of the Louvre. The Marseillais marched at the head of the columns, with
the Breton federalists, and they had pointed their pieces towards the palace.
The great number of the insurgents, which increased every moment, was
joined by a multitude attracted by curiosity ; and thus the enemy appeared
stronger than they really were. While they were proceeding to the palace,
Santerre had hurried to the Hotel de Ville, to get himself appointed com-
mander-in-chief of the national guard, and Westermann had remained on
the field of battle to direct the assailants. Everything was therefore in the
utmost confusion, so much so, that Petion, who, according to the precon-
certed plan, was to have been kept at home by an insurrectional force, was
still waiting for the guard that was to screen his responsibility by an appa-
rent constraint. He sent, himself, to the Hotel de Ville, and at last a
few hundred men were placed at his door that he might seem to be in a state
of arrest.
The palace was at this moment absolutely besieged. The assailants
were in the place ; and by the dawning light they were seen through the
old doors of the courts and from the windows. Their artillery was disco-
vered pointed at the palace, and their confused shouts and threatening songs
were heard. The plan of anticipating them had been anew proposed ; hut
tidings of Mandat's death had just been received, and the opinion of the
ministers, as well as of the department, was, that it was best to await the
attack and suffer themselves to be forced within the limits of the law.
Rrederer had just gone through the ranks of this little garrison, to read to
the Swiss and the national guards the legal proclamation, which forbade
them to attack, but enjoined them to repel force by force. The King was
solicited to review in person the servants who were preparing to defend him.
The unfortunate prince had passed the night in listening to the conflicting
opinions that were expressed around him ; and, during the only moments of
relaxation, he had prayed to Heaven for his royal consort, his children, and
his sister, the objects of all his fears. " Sire," said the Queen to him with
energy, " it is time to show yourself." It is even asserted that, snatching
a pistol from the belt of old d'Affry, she presented it angrily at the Kin<r.
The eyes of the princess were inflamed with weeping; but her brow
appeared lofty, her nostrils dilated, with indignation and pride.*
• "The behaviour of Marie Antoinette, was magnanimous in the highest degree. Her
majestic air, her Austrian lip, and aquiline nose, gave her an air of dignity which can only
be conceived by those who beheld her in that trying hour." — Peltier. E.
" The King ought then to have put himself at the head of his troops, and opposed his
324 # HISTORY OF THE
As for the King, he feared nothing for his own person ; nay, he mani-
fested great coolness in this extreme peril ; but he was alarmed for his
family, and sorrow at seeing it thus exposed had altered his looks. lie
nevertheless went forward with firmness, lie had on a purple suit of
clothes, wore a sword, and his hair, which had not been dressed since the
preceding day, was partly in disorder. On stepping out on the balcony, he
perceived without agitation many pieces of artillery pointed against the
palace. Hid presence still excited some remains of enthusiasm. The caps
of the grenadiers were all at once uplifted on the points of swords and bayo-
nets ; the old cry of "Vive le RoiV rang for the last time beneath the
vaults of the paternal palace. A last spark of courage was rekindled.
Dejected hearts were cheered. For a moment there was a gleam of conli-
enemies. The Queen was of this opinion, and the courageous counsel she gave on this
occasion does honour to her memory." — Madame de Stacl. E.
"This invasion of the 10th of August was another of those striking occasions, on which
the King, by suddenly changing his character and assuming firmness, might have recovered
his throne. Had he ordered the clubs of the Jacobins and Cordeliers to be shut up, dissolved
the Assembly, and seized on the factions, that day had restored his authority. But this
weak prince chose rather to expose himself to certain death, than give orders for his
defence." — Dumont. E.
"Marie Antoinette Josephe Jeanne Antoinette, of Lorraine, Archduchess of Austria, and
Queen of France, born at Vienna in the year 1755, was "daughter of the Emperor Francis I.
and of Maria Theresa. She received a careful education, and nature had t>estowcd on her
an uncommon share of grace and beauty. Her marriage with the dauphin (afterwards
Louis XVI.) at Versailles, in 1770, had all the appearance of a triumph. It was subse-
quently remarked that immediately afier the ceremony, a fearful thunder-storm, such as had
scarcely ever before been witnessed, took place at Versailles. Anxious minds indulged in
yet more more fearful foreboding*, when, at the festivity which the city of Paris prepared in
celebration of the royal nuptials, through the want of judicious arrangements, a great number
of people in the Rue Royale were trodden down in the crowd. Fifty-three persons were
found dead, and about three hundred dangerously wounded. In 17S8, Marie Antoinette
drew upon herself the hatred of the court party, who used every means to make her odious
to the nation. Her lively imagination often gave her the appearance of levity, and i
times of intrigue and dissimulation. A national restlessness, too, led her on a constant search
after novelty, which involved her in heavy expenses. It was still 'more to her disadvantage
that she injured her dignity by neglecting the strict formality of court manners. About this
time her enemies spread a report about that she was still an Austrian at heart, and an extra-
ordinary occurrence added fuel to the flame of calumny, and subjected the Queen to a dis-
graceful law-suit. Two jewellers demanded the payment of an immense price for a neck-
lace, which had been purchased in the name of the Queen. In the examination, which she
demanded, it was proved that she had never authorized the purchase. A lady of her size and
complexion had impudently passed herself ofT for the Queen, and, at midnight had a meeting
with a cardinal in the park of Versailles. Notwithstanding, her enemies succeeded in throw-
ing a dark shade over her conduct When Louis XVI. informed her of his condemnation
to death, she congratulated him on the approaching termination of an existence so painful.
After his execution, she asked nothing of the Convention but a mourning dress, which she
wore for the remainder of her days. Her behaviour during the whole term of her impri
ment was exemplary in the highest degree. On the 3d of October, 1793, she was brought
before the revolutionary tribunal, and replied to all the questions of her judges satisfactorily,
and with decision. When Hebert accused tier of having seduced her own son, she answ.
with a noble hurst of indignation, • I appeal to every mother here whether such a crime be
possible!' She heard her sentence with perfect calmness, and the next day ascended the
scaffold. The beauty for which she was once so celebrated was gone; grief had distorted
her features, and in the damp, unhealthy prison, she had almost lost one of In r Bjea, When
she reached the place of execution, she cast back one fond, lingering look at the Tuileries,
and then mounted the scaQMd. When she came to the top, she flung herself on her knees,
and exclaimed, ' Farewell, my dear children, for ever — I go to your father !' Thus died the
Queen of France, October Hi, 17'Jl, towards the close of the thirty-eighth year of her age."
— Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 325
dence and hope, but at that instant some fresh battalions of the national
guard arrived, which had been formed later than the Others, and came
agreeably to the order previously issued by Mandat. They entered at the
moment when the cries of " five It Hoi!" rang in the court. Some joined
those who thus hailed the presence of the monarch ; others, holding differ-
ent sentiments, fancied themselves in danger, and, calling to mind all the
popular fables that had been circulated, imagined that they were about to be
given up to the knights of the dagger. They immediately cried out that
they were betrayed by that villain Mandat, and raised a kind of tumult.
The gunners, following their example, turned their pieces against the front
of the palace. A quarrel instantly ensued with the loyal battalions. The
gunners were disarmed and consigned to a detachment, and the new comers
were despatched towards the gardens.
At this moment, the King, after showing himself in the balcony, went
down stairs to review the troops in the courts. His coming having been
announced, every one had resumed his place in the ranks. He walked
through them with a tranquil countenance, and cast upon them expressive
looks which penetrated all hearts. Addressing the soldiers, he said, with a
firm voice, that he was touched by their attachment, that he should be by
their side, and that, in defending him, they were defending their wives and
their children. He then proceeded through the vestibule, with the intention
of going to the garden, but at that moment he heard shouts of " Down with
the Veto .'" raised by one of the battalions which had just entered. Two
officers who were at his side, were then anxious to prevent him from con-
tinuing the review in the garden, others begged him to go and inspect the
post at the Pont Tournant. He courageously complied. But he was
obliged to pass along the Terrace of the Feuillans, which was crowded with
people. During this walk, he was separated from the furious multitude,
merely by a tricoloured ribbon. He nevertheless advanced, in spite of all
sorts of insults and abuse ;* he even saw the battalions file off before his
face, traverse the garden, and leave it with the intention of joining the
assailants in the Place du Carrousel.
This desertion, that of the gunners, and the shouts of " Down with the
Veto1." had extinguished all hope in the King. At the same moment, the
gendarmes, assembled at the colonnade of the Louvre and other places, had
either dispersed or joined the populace. The national guard, which occu-
pied the apartments, and which could, it was conceived, be relied upon, was
on its part dissatisfied at being with the gendemen, and appeared to distrust
them. The Queen strove to encourage it. "Grenadiers," cried she, point-
ing to those gentlemen, " these are your comrades ; they are come to die by
your side." In spite, however, of this apparent courage, her soul was over-
whelmed with despair. The review had ruined every tiling, and she
lamented that the King had shown no energy. That unfortunate prince, we
cannot forbear repeating, feared nothing for himself. He had, in fact,
refused to wear a buckler, as on the 14th of July, saying that on the day
of battle it behoved him to be uncovered, like the meanest of his servants.t
" • I was at a window looking on the garden. I saw gome of the gunners quit their posts,
go up the King, and thrust their fists in his face, insulting him in the most brutal language.
He was a* pale as a corpse. When the royal family came in again, the Queen told me that
all was lost; that the Kin? hail shown no energy; and that this sort of review had done
more harm than pood." — Madame Cmnpan. ]].
■{■"The Quean told me that the King had just refused to put on theunder-uaistcoat of
mail which she had prepared for him; that he had consented to wear it on the 14th of July,
2 E
326 HISTORY OF THE
He was not, therefore, deficient in courage, and he afterwards displayed a
truly noble and elevated courage ; but he lacked the boldness requisite for
offensive operations. He lacked also consistency, and ought not, for ex-
ample, to have dreaded the effusion of blood, when he consented to the
invasion of France by foreigners. It is certain, as has frequently been
observed, that, had he mounted a horse and charged at the head of his
adherents, the insurrection would have been quelled.
At this moment, the members of the department, seeing the general con-
fusion in the palace, and despairing of the success of resistance, went to the
King and besought him to retire into the bosom of the Assembly. This
advice, so frequently calumniated, like all that is given to kin<rs, when not
successful, recommended the only suitable course at the moment. By
this retreat, all bloodshed was likely to be prevented, and the royal family
preserved from a death that was almost certain if the palace should be taken
by storm. In the existing state of things, the success of the assault was not
doubtful, and, had it been, the very doubt was sufficient to make one avoid
exposing oneself to it.
The Queen vehemently opposed this plan.* " Madame," said Rcederer,
" you endanger the lives of your husband and children. Think of the
responsibility which you take upon yourself." The altercation grew very
warm. At length the King decided to retire to the Assembly. " Let us
go," said he, with a resigned look, to his family and to those around him/
"Sir," said the Queen to Rcederer, "you answer for the lives of the King
and of my children." — " Madam," replied the prtteureur syndic, "I answer
for it that I will die by their side, but I promise nothing more."
They then set out, to proceed to the Assembly by the garden, the Terrace
of the Feuillans and the court of the Riding-house. All the gentlemen and
servants rushed forward to follow the King, though it was possible that they
might compromise him by irritating the populace and exciting the ill-will
of the Assembly by their presence. Rcederer strove in vain* to stop them,
and loudly declared that they would cause the royal family to be murdered.
He at length succeeded in keeping back a great number, and the royal party
set out. A detachment of Swiss and of the national guard accompanied the
royal family. A deputation of the Assembly came to receive and to conduct
it into its bosom. At this moment, the concourse was so great that the
crowd was impenetrable. A tall grenadier took hold of the dauphin, and,
lifting him up in his arms, forced his way through the mob, holding him
over his head. The Queen, at this si^ht, conceived that her child was
going to be taken from her and gave a shriek ; but she was soon set right ;
for tbe grenadier entered, and placed the royal infant on the bureau of the
Assembly.
The King and his family then entered, followed by two ministers. "I
come."' said Louis XVI., "to prevent a great crime, and I think, gentlemen,
that I cannot be safer than m the midst of you."
• lie was merely going to a ceremony, where the blade of an assassin was to be appre-
hended; but that on a day on which his party might have to tight against the revolutionists,
he thought there was something cowardly in preserving his life by such means." — Madame
Camprm. E.
• "The Queen felt at once all the dishonour of throwing then. selves as suppliants on the
protection of n body which had not shown even a shadow of interest in their favour. Ere
she consented to such infamy, she said she would willingly U> nailed to the walls of the
pelade. Btte accompanied, however, her basband, his si*ter, and his children, and on her
way to the Assembly, was robbed of her watch and purse." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 327
Vergniaud, who presided, replied to the monarch that he might rely on
the firmness of the National Assembly, and that its members had sworn to
die in defence of the constituted authorities.
The King seated himself beside the president; but on the observation of
Chabot, that his presence might affect the freedom of deliberation, he was
placed in the box of the writer appointed to report the proceedings. The
iron railing was removed, that, in case a forcible entry should be made into
the box, lie might with his family take shelter without impediment in the
Assembly. In this operation the prince assisted with his own hands. The
railing was pulled down, and thus insults and threats could the more freely
reach the dethroned monarch in his last asylum.*
Icrer then gave an account of what had happened. He described the
fury of the multitude, and the danger which threatened the palace, the courts
of which were already in the possession of the mob. The Assembly ordered
twenty of its commissioners to go and pacify the populace. The commis-
sioners departed. A discharge of cannon was all at once heard. Conster-
nation pervaded the hall. "I assure you," said the King, "that I have
ordered the Swiss to be forbidden to fire." But the report of cannon was
again heard, mingled with the sound of musketry. The agitation was at its
height. Intelligence was soon brought that the commissioners deputed by
the Assembly had been dispersed. At the same moment, the door of the
hall was attacked, and rang with tremendous blows. Armed citizens ap-
peared at one of the entrances. " We are stormed !" exciaimed a municipal
officer. The president put on his hat ; and a multitude of deputies rushed
from their seats to keep back the assailants. At length the tumult was ap-
peased, and, amidst the uninterrupted reports of the musketry and cannon,
the deputies shouted, " The nation, liberty, equality for ever !"
At this moment, in fact, a most sanguinary combat was raging at the
palace. The King having left it, it was naturally supposed that the people
would not persist in their attack on a forsaken dwelling; besides, the general
agitation had prevented any attention from being paid to the subject, and no
order had been issued for its evacuation. All the troops that were in the
courts had merely been withdrawn into the interior of the palace, and they
were confusedly mingled in the apartments with the domestics, the gentle-
men, and the officers. The crowd at the palace was immense, and it was
scarcely possible to move there, notwithstanding its vast extent.
The rabble, probably ignorant of the King's departure, after waiting a
considerable time before the principal wicket, at length attacked the gate,
broke it open with hatchets, and rushed into the Royal Court. They then
formed in column, and turned against the palace the guns imprudently left
in the court after the troops had been withdrawn. The assailants, however,
yet forebore to attack. They made amicable demonstrations to the soldiers
at the windows. "Give up the palace to us," said they, " and we are
friends." The Swiss professed pacific intentions, and threw cartridges out
of the windows. Some of the boldest of the besiegers, venturing beyond
the columns, advanced beneath the vestibule of the palace. At the foot of
the staircase had been placed a piece of timber in the form of a barrier, and
behind it were intrenched, pell-mell, some Swiss and national guard*. Those
• "An ordinary workman of the suburbs, in a dress which implied abject poverty, made
hit way into the palace where the royal family were seated, demanding the King by the
name of Monsieur Veto. « So you are here,' he said. ' beast of a Veto ! There is a purse
of gold I found in your house yonder ; if you had found mine, you would not have been ao
honest.' "—ISarbaroux'a Memoirs. — Lacretelle denies the truth of tins anecdote. E.
328 HISTORY OF THE
who from the outside had pushed in thus far, resolved to advance still farther
and to gain possession of the barrier. After a struggle of considerable length,
which, however, did not end in a battle, the: barrier was taken. The assail-
ants then forced their way up the staircase, repeating that the palace must
be given up to tlitem.
It is asserted that, at this moment, men armcil with pikes, who had
remained in the court, caught hold witli hooks the Swiss sentries stationed
outside, and murdered them. It is added that a musket-shot was fired at a
window, and that the Swiss, enraged at it, replied by a volley. A tremea*
dous discharge immediately pealed in the palace, and those who had pene-
trated into it fled, crying that they were betrayed. It is difficult to ascertain,
amidst this confusion, by which side the first shots v. r fired. The
assailants have alleged that they advanced amicably, and that, when
had once entered the palace, they were treacherously surprised and fired
upon. It is very improbable, for the Swiss were not in a situation to pr
a conflict. As, after the King's departure, it was no longer their d
fight, they must naturally have thought only of saving theme
treachery was not the way to do that. Besides, it' even aggression could
change anything in the moral character of these events, it must be admitted
that the first and real aggression, that is, the attack of the palace. pro i
from the insurgents. The rest was but an inevitable accident, to be im
to chance alone.
Be this as it may, those who had succeeded ill forcing their way into the
vestibule and upon the great staircase suddenly heard the disc
whilst retreating, and upon the staircase itself, they received a shower of
balls. The Swiss then descended in good order, and, on reaching the last
steps, debouched by the vestibule into the Royal Court There th< y made
themselves masters of one of the pieces of cannon which were in the court;
and, in spite of a terrible fire, turned and discharged it at the Mar-
killing a great number of them. The Marseillais then fell back, and, the
fire continuing, they abandoned the court. Terror instantly seized the
populace, -who fled on all sides, and regained the fauxbourgs. If the Swiss
had at this moment followed up their advantage; if the ggndarmi
at the Louvre, instead of deserting their post, had charged t!i" repulsed
besiegers, the business would have been decided, and victory would have
belonged to the palace.
But at this moment the Kind's Order arrived, sent through M. d'Hervffly,
forbidding the Swiss to fire. M. d'llcrvilly had reached die vestibule at the
moment when the Swiss had just repulsed the besiegers, li I them,
and enjoined them in the name of the King to follow him ' m'nly.
The Swiss, in considerable Dumber, then followed M. d'llervilly to the
Feuillans amidst the most galling discharges. The palace was thus deprived
of the greater portion of its defenders. Stdl, however, a. considerable num-
ber were left, either "ti the stairease, or in the apartments. T!i -
had not reached, and they were soon destined to be exposed, without means
of resistance, to the most awful dangers.
Meanwhile the besiegers had rallied. The Marseillais, united I
Bretons, were ashamed of having given way. They took courage a</ain,
and returned the charge boiling with fury. Westermann, who afterwards
displayed genuine talents, directed their efforts with intelligence, They
rushed forward with ardour, fell in s^reat numbers, hut at length gained the
vestibule, passed the staircase, and made themselves masters of the palace.
The rabble, with pikes, poured in after. them, and the rest of the scene was
Q
u
'-:
y
H
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 329
soon but one general massacre.* The unfortunate Swiss in vain begged
for quarter, at the same time throwing down their arms. They were
butchered without mercy. The palace was set on fire; the servants who
filled it were pursued ; some escaped, others were sacrificed.! Among the
• " It was no longer a battle, hut a massacre. The enraged multitude broke into the
palace, and put to death every person found within it. The fugitives, pursued into the gar-
dens of the Tuileries, were murdered under the trees, amidst the fountains, and at the feet of
the statues. Some wretches climbed up the marble monuments which adorn that splendid
spot. The insurgents refrained from firing, lest they should injure the statuary, but pricked
them with their bayonets till they came down, and then slaughtered them at their feet: an
instance of taste for art, mingled with revolutionary cruelty, unparalleled in the history of the
world." — Alison. E.
■f '• The populace had no sooner become masters of the palace than they exerted their fury
against every soul in it without distinction. The gentlemen ushers of the chambers, the
pages of the back-Main, the doorkeepers, even persons in the lowest and most servile employ
ments were all alike butchered. Streams of blood flowed everywhere from the roofs to tire
cellars. It was impossible to set foot on a single spot without treading upon a dead body.
Stripped, many of them, as soon as they were murdered, their lifeless bodies presented in
addition to the ghastliness of death, the shocking spectacle of a mutilation which the mind
may conceive, but which modesty forbids me to describe. And among the perpetrators of
these atrocious deeds, were found women ! Seven hundred and fifty Swiss perished on that
dreadful day ! Nine officers survived, only to be butchered a few days after in a more cruel
manner. The instant the mob rushed into the palace, they forced their way into, and
plundered every corner. Bureaus were burst open ; furniture was broken to pieces, and
flung out of the windows ; even the cellars were ransacked ; in short, the whole presented
nothing but scenes of devastation and death. The mob spared only the paintings in the
state-room. The butchery did not cease for hours ; but the aristocrats were no longer the
only victims. Some of the rioters were massacred by other rioters. Rapine, drunkenness,
and impunity increased the numbers of the populace; the day seemed to be made the revel
of carnage ; and the mangled bodies of the Swiss were covered with fresh heaps of the self-
destroyed rabble ! — Peltier. E.
" In about half an hour after the royal family had gone to the Assembly, I saw four heads
carried on pikes along the terrace of Feuillans towards the building where the legislative
body was sitting : which was, I believe, the signal for attacking the palace ; for at the same
instant there began a dreadful fire of cannon and musketry. The palace was everywhere
pierced with balls and bullets. I ran from place to place, and finding the apartments and
staircases already strewed with dead bodies, I took the resolution of leaping from one of the
windows in the Queen's room down upon the terrace. I continued my road till I came to
the dauphin's garden-gate, where some Marseillais who had just butchered several of the
Swiss were stripping them. One of them came up to me with a bloody sword in his hand,
saying, ' How, citizen, without arms ! Here, take this sword, and help us to kill !' How-
ever, luckily, another Marseillais seized it, and being dressed in a plain frock I succeeded in
making my escape. Some of the Swiss who were pursued, took refuge in an adjoining stable.
I concealed myself in the same place. They were soon cut to pieces close to me. On hearing
their cries, the master of the house ran up, and I seized that opportunity of going in, where,
without knowing me, M. le Dreux and his wife invited me to stay till the danger was over.
Presently a body of armed men came in to see if any of the Swiss were concealed there.
After a fruitless search, these fellows, their hands dyed with blood, stopped and coolly related
the murders of which they had been guilty. I remained in this asylum from ten o'clock in
the morning till four in the afternoon ; having before my eyes a view of all the horrors that
were perpetrated at the Place de Louis Quinze. Of the men, some were still continuing the
slaughter, and others cutting oil' the heads of those who were already slain ; while the women,
lost to all sense of shame, were committing the most indecent mutilations on the dead bodies,
from which they tore pieces of flesh, and carried them off in triumph. Towards evening I
took the road to Versailles, and crossed the Pont Louis Seize which was covered with the
naked carcasses of men already in a state of putrefaction from the great heat of the weather."
V. E.
'• The 10th of August was a day I shall never forget It was the day of my fete, and
hitherto I had always spent it happily. It was now a day of mourning. In the streets the
cries of the people mingled with the thundering of artillery and the groans of the wounded.
About noon my brother entered with one of his companions in arms, who was wrapped in •
vol. i.— 42 2 £ 2
330 HISTORY OF THE
number, there were generous conquerors. " Spare the women," cried one
of them ; " do not dishonour the nation !" and he saved the Queen's ladies,
who were on their knees, with swords uplifted over their heads. There
were courageous victims ; there were others who displayed ingenuity in
saving, when they had no longer the courage to defend themselves. Among
those furious conquerors there were even feelings of honesty, and, either
from popular vanity, pr from that disinterestedness which springs from
enthusiasm, the money found in the palace was carried to the Assembly.
The Assembly had anxiously awaited the issue of the combat. At lcnirth,
at eleven o'clock, were heard shouts of victory a thousand times repeated.
The doors yielded to the pressure of a mob intoxicated with joy and furv.
The hall was filled with wrecks that were brought thither, and with the
Swiss who had been made prisoners, and whose lives had been spared, in
order to do homage to the Assembly by this act of popular clemency.
Meanwhile, the King and his family, confined within the narrow box of a
reporter, witnessed the ruin of their throne and the joy of their conquerors.*
great-coat. The young royalist had tasted nothing for forty hours, and he had just escaped
from the pursuit of those who would have massacred him if they could have found him.
The young gentleman was carefully concealed in my little apartment. My father was out,
and my brother went frequently to the gate to look for him. The storm seemed to be sub-
siding, but the firing of musketry was still heard at intervals. Night was drawing on, and
my father had not yet returned. My brother again went to the gate to look for him, and
he saw a man quickly turn the corner of our hotel. He immediately recognised my father,
who desired him to leave the door open, observing that he was merely going round the cor-
ner to fetch a person who was in the arcade of the mint. He returned, bringing with him a
gentleman who was scarcely able to walk. He was leaning on the arm of my father, who
conducted him silently to a bedchamber. It was M. de Bevy. He was pale and faint, and
the blood was flowing copiously from his wounds. The horrors of that awful day are never
to be forgotten !" — Ducliess d'Abrantes. E.
* " For fifteen hours the royal family were shut up in the short-hand writer*' box. At
length at one in the morning, they were transferred to the Feuillans. When left alone, Louia
prostrated himself in prayer." — Lacretelle. E.
" The royal family remained three days at the Feuillans. They occupied a small suite
of apartments consisting of four cells. In the first were the gentlemen who had accompanied
the King. In the second we found the King; he was having his hair dressed ; he took two
locks of it, and gave one to my sister, and one to me. In the third was the Queen, in bed,
and in an indescribable 6tate of affliction. We found her attended only by a bulky woman,
who seemed tolerably civil ; she waited upon the Queen, who, as yet, had none of her own
people about her. I asked her majesty what the ambassadors of foreign powers had done
under existing circumstances. She told me that ihey could do nothing, but that the lady of
the English ambassador had just given her a proof of the private interest she took in her
welfare by sending her linen for her son. — Mail tine Campan. E.
"At this frightful period, Lady Sutherland (the present Duchess and Counv
Sutherland) then English ambassadress at Paris, showed the most devoted attentions to the
royal family." — Madame de St ail. E.
" It was in this prison (the reporters' box) six feet square and eight feet high, the white
walls of which reflected the rays of the sun, and increased their ardour, that the King and
his family eptot fourteen hours together in the course of a day that was burning hot. At
the mob kept tumultously crowding round the hall, it was found advisable to destroy an iron
railing, which separated this lodge from the National Assembly, that the King might be able
to get into the Assembly in case the lodge should be attacked. Four of the ministers and
the King himself were obliged to pull down tliU iron railing without any instrument but the
strength of their hands and arms. The King then sat down and remained in his chair, with
his hat off, during the debate that followed, keeping bis eyes constantly fixed on the Assem-
bly, and taking no refreshment for the whole time but a peach and a glass of water." —
Peltier. E.
41 One circumstance may serve as a proof of the illusion in which the Queen was, with
respect to her situation, even when iho was in the reportera' box. When the cannons were
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
331
Vergniaud had for a moment quitted the chair, for the purpose of drawing
up the decree <>l' dethronement. He returned, and the Assembly passed
that celebrated decree, to this effect:
I. tufa W I. is, tor the time being, suspended from royalty;
A plan of education is directed for the prince royal;
\ national convention is convoked.
it then a plan long resolved upon to overthrow the monarchy, since
they only suspended the King and provided an education for the prince ?
With what fear, on the contrary, did they not lay hands on that ancient
power! With what a kind of hesitation did they not approach that aged
leneafh which the French generations had been alternately fortunate
or unfortunate, but under which at least they had lived!
The pnblia mind, however, is prompt. It needed but a short interval to
throw off the relics of an ancient veneration ; and the monarchy suspended,
ion to become the monarchy destroyed. It was doomed to perish,
not in the person of a Louis XI., a Charles IX., a Louis XIV., but in that
of Louis XVI., one of the most honest kings that ever sat upon a throne.
firing upon the palace, and in the midst of the violent petitions for dethroning the King, her
. reiving upon the president's speech to the King at his entrance, turned to Count
d'Hervilly, who was standing behind her, and said, 'Well, M. d'Hervilly, were we not in
the right not to go away !' — ' I wish, with all my heart, madam,' answered the count, ' that
your majesty may he of the same opinion six months hence !' " — Berlrand dt Mollevilk. E.
"For many long hours the King and his family were shut up in the reporters' box. Ex-
hausted by fatigue, the infant dauphin at length dropped off into a profound sleep in his
mother's arms ; the princess royal and Madame Elizabeth, with their eyes streaming with
tears, sat on each side of her. At last they were transferred to the building of the Feuillans.
Already the august captives felt the pangs of indigence; all their dresses and effects had
been pillaged or destroyed ; the dauphin was indebted for a change of linen to the wife of the
English ambassador; and the Queen was obliged to borrow twenty -five louis from Madame
Anguie, one of the ladies of the bedchamber." — Alison. E.
332 HISTORY OF THE
CONCLUSION OF THE LEGISLATIVE
ASSEMBLY.
The Swiss had courageously defended the Tuileries, but their resistance
had proved unavailing : the great staircase had been stormed and the palace
taken. The people, thenceforward victorious, forced their way on all sides
into this abode of royalty, to which they had always attached the notion of
immense treasures, unbounded felicity, formidable powers, and dark projects.
What an arrear of vengeance to be wreaked at once upon wealth, great-
ness, and power !
Eighty Swiss grenadiers, who had not had time to retreat, vigorously de-
fended their lives and were slaughtered without mercy. The mob then rushed
into the apartments and fell upon those useless friends who had assembled
to defend the King, and who, by the name of knights of the dagger, had
incurred the highest degree of popular rancour. Their impotent weapons
served only to exasperate the conquerors, and give greater probability to the
plans imputed to the court. Every door that was found locked was broken
open. Two ushers, resolving to defend the entrance to the great council-
chamber and to sacrifice themselves to etiquette, were instantly butchered.
The numerous attendants of the royal family fled tumultuously through the
long galleries, threw themselves from the windows, or sought in the immense
extent of the palace some obscure hiding-place wherein to save their lives,
The Queen's ladies betook themselves to one of her apartments, and expected
every moment to be attacked in their asylum. By direction of the Princess
of Tarentum, the doors were unlocked, that the irritation might not be
increased by resistance. The assailants made their appearance and seized
one of them. The sword was already uplifted over her head. "Spare the
women !" exclaimed a voice ; "let us not dishonour the nation !" At these
words the weapon dropped ; the lives of the Queen's ladies were spared ;
they were protected and conducted out of the palace by the very men who
were on the point of sacrificing them, and who, with all the popular fickle-
ness, now escorted them and manifested the most ingenious zeal to save
them.
After the work of slaughter followed that of devastation. The magnificent
furniture was dashed in pieces, and the fragments scattered far and wide.
The rabble penetrated into the private apartments of the Queen and indulged
in the most obscene mirth. They pried into the most secret recesses, raji-
sacked every depository of papers, broke open every lock, and enjoyed the
twofold gratification of curiosity and destruction. To the horrors of murder
and pillage were added those of conflagration. The flames, having already
consumed the sheds contiguous to the outer courts, began to spread to the
edifice, and threatened that imposing abode of royalty with complete ruin.
The desolation was not confined to the melancholy circuit of the palace ; it
extended to a distance. The streets were strewed with wrecks of furniture
and dead bodies. Every one who fled, or was supposed to be fleeing, was
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 333
1 as an enemy, pursued, and fired at. An almost incessant report of
musketry succeeded mat of the cannon, and was every moment the signal
urders. How many horrors arc the attendants of victory, be the
vanquished, the conquerors, and the cause for which they have fought, who
ami what they may !
The executive power being abolished by the suspension of Louis XVI.,
only two other authorities were left in Paris, that of the commune and that
of the Assembly. As we have seen in the narrative of the 10th of August,
deputies of the sections had assembled at the Hotel de Ville, expelled the
former magistrates, seized the municipal power, and directed the insurrection
during the whole night and day of the 10th. They possessed the real power
on. They had all the ardour of victory, and represented that new and
impetuous revolutionary class, which had struggled during the whole session
against the inertness" of the other more enlightened but less active class of
men. ot which the Legislative Assembly was composed.
The first thing the deputies of the sections did was to displace all the high
authorities, which, being closer to the supreme power, were more attached
to it. They had suspended the staff of the national guard, and, by with-
draw injr Mandat from the palace, had disorganized its defence. Santerre
had been invested by them with the command of the national guard. They
had been in not less haste to suspend the administration of the department,
which, from the lofty region wherein it was placed, had continually curbed
the popular passions, in which it took no share.
\s for the municipality, they had suppressed the general council, substi-
tuted themselves in the place of its authority, and merely retained Petion,
the mayor, Manuel, the procureur syndic, and the sixteen municipal admi-
nistrators. All this had taken place during the attack on the palace. Dan ton
had audaciously directed that stormy sitting ; and when the grape-shot of
the Swiss had caused the mob to fall back along the quays, he had gone out
saying, "Our brethren call for aid; let us go and give it to them." His
presence had contributed to lead the populace back to the field of battle, and
to decide the victory.
When the combat was over, it was proposed that Petion should be re-
leased from the guard placed over him and reinstated in his office of mayor.
Nevertheless, either from real anxiety for his safety, or from fear of giving
themselves too scrupulous a chief during the first moments of the insurrec-
tion, it had been decided that he should be guarded a day or two longer,
under pretext of putting his life out of danger. At the same time, they had
removed the busts of Louis XVI., Bailly, and Lafayette, from the hall of the
general council. The new class which was raising itself thus displaced the
first emblems of the Revolution, in order to substitute its own in their stead.
The insurgents of the commune had to place themselves in communica-
tion with the Assembly. They reproached it with wavering, nay, even
with royalism ; but they regarded it as the only existing sovereign authority,
and were not at all disposed to undervalue it. On the morning of the 10th,
a deputation appeared at the bar, to acquaint it with the formation of the
insurrectional commune, and to state what had been done. Danton was one
" The people who send us to you," said he, " have charged
us to declare that they still think you worthy of their confidence, but that
they recognise no other judge of the extraordinary measures to which neces-
sity has forced them to recur, than the French nation, our sovereign and
your's, convoked in the primary assemblies." To diese deputies the As-
sembly replied, through the medium of its president, that it approved all that
334 HISTORY OF THE
had been done, and that it recommended to them order and peace. It more-
over communicated to them the decrees passed in the course of the day, and
begged that they would circulate them. After this, it drew up a proclama-
tion for the purpose of enjoining the respect due to persons and property,
and commissioned some of its members to convey it to the people.
Its first attention, at this moment, was naturally directed to the supply of
a substitute for royalty, which had been destroyed. The ministers, assem-
bled under the name of the executive council, were charged by it, ad interim,
with the duties of the administration and the execution of the laws. The
minister of justice, the keeper of the seal of state, was to ailix it to the
decrees, and to promulgate them in the name of the legislative power. It
was then requisite to select the persons who should compose the ministry.
The first idea was to reinstate Roland, and Clavieres, and Servan, who had
been removed on account of their attachment to the popular cause ; for the
new Revolution could not but favour all that royalty had disapproved.
Those three ministers were, therefore, unanimously reappointed ; Roland to
the interior, Servan to the war-department, and Clavieres to the finances.
It was requisite also to appoint a minister of justice, of foreign affairs, and
of the marine. Here the choice was free, and the wishes formerly con-
ceived in favour of obscure merit and patriotism, ardent, and for that reason
disagreeable to the court, could be realized without impediment. Danton,
who possessed such influence over the multitude, and who had exerted it
with such effect during the last forty-eight hours, was deemed neec
and, though he was disliked by the Girondins as a delegate of the populace,
he was nominated minister of justice by a majority of two hundred and
twenty-two votes, out of two hundred and eighty-four. After this satisfaction
given to the people, and this post conferred on energy, care was taken to
place a man of science at the head of the marine. This was Monge, the
mathematician, known to and appreciated by Condorcet, and chosen at his
suggestion. Lastly, Lebrun* was placed at the head of the foreign affairs,
and in his person was recompensed one of those industrious men who had
before performed all the labour of which the ministers reaped the honour.
Having thus reconstituted the executive power, the Assembly declared
that all the decrees to which Louis XVI. had affixed his veto shoidd receive
the force of law. The formation of a camp below Paris, the object of one
of these decrees, and the cause of such warm discussions, was immediately
ordered, and the gunners were authorized that very day to commence espla-
nades on the heights of Montmarte. After effecting a revolution in Paris, it
was requisite to insure its success in the departments, and, above all, in the
armies, commanded as they were by suspected generals. Commissaries,
selected from among the members of the Assembly, were directed to repair
to the provinces and to the armies, to enlighten them respectimr the <
of the 10th of August; and they were authorized to remove, in case of need,
all the officers, civil and military, and to appoint others.
A few hours had been sufficient for all these decrees ; and, while the
Assentbly was engaged in passing them, it was constantly interrupted by the
necessity of attending to other matters. The valuables carried oil' from the
Tuileries were deposited within its precincts. The Swiss, the servants of
the palace, and all those who had been apprehended in their Bight, or saved
from the fury of the people, were conducted to its bar as to a sanctuary. A
• "Lebrun passed far a prudent roan, because he was destitute of any species of enthusi-
asm; and for a clever man, because he was a tolerable clerk; but he had no activity, no
talent, and no decision." — Madame Roland's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 333
great number of petitioners came, one after another, to report what they had
done or seen, and to relate their discoveries concerning the supposed plots
of the court. Accusations and invectives of all kinds were brought forward
against the royal family, which heard all this from the narrow space to which
it was confined. That place was the box of the short-hand writer. Louis
XVI. listened with composure to all the speeches, and conversed at tunes
with Vergniaud and other deputies, who were placed close to him. Shut
tip there tor fifteen hours, he asked for some refreshment, which he shared
with his wile and his children; and this circumstance called forth ignoble
(rations on the fondness for the table which had been imputed to him.
Every one knows how far victorious parties are disposed to spare misfortune.
The young dauphin was lying on his mother's lap, fast asleep, overcome by
the oppressive heat. The young princess and .Madame Elizabeth,4 their
eve> red with weeping, were by the side of the Queen. At the back of the
box were several gentlemen devotedly attached to the King, who had not
abandoned misfortune. Fifty men, belonging to the troops which had
escorted the royal family from the palace to the Assembly, served as a guard
for this spot, from which the deposed monarch beheld the spoils of his palace,
and witnessed the dismemberment of his ancient power, and the distribution
of its relics among the various popular authorities.
The tumult continued to rage with extreme violence, and, in the opinion
of the people, it was not sufficient to have suspended royalty, it behoved
them to destroy it. Petitions on this subject poured in ; and, while the
multitude, in an uproar, waited outside the hall for an answer, they inun-
dated the avenues, beset the doors, and twice or thrice attacked them with
such violence as nearly to burst them open, and to excite apprehensions for
the unfortunate family of which the Assembly had taken charge. Henri
Larivicre, who was sent, with other commissioners, to pacify the people,
returned at that moment, and loudly exclaimed, " Yes, gentlemen, I know
it, I have seen it ; I assure you that the mass of the people is determined to
perish a thousand times rather than disgrace liberty by an act of inhumanity ;
and most assuredly there is not one person here present — and everybody
must understand me," he added, " who cannot rely upon French honour."
These cheering and courageous words were applauded. Vergniaud spoke
in his turn, and replied to the petitioners, who insisted that the suspension
should be changed into dethronement. " I am gratified," said be, " that I
am furnished with an occasion of explaining the intention of the Assembly
in presence of the citizens. It has decreed the suspension of the executive
power, and appointed a convention which is to decide irrevocably the great
question of the dethronement. In so doing, it lias confined itself within its
powers, which did not allow it to constitute itself the judge of royalty ; and
it has provided for the welfare of the state, by rendering it impossible for the
executive power to do mischief. It has thus satisfied all wants, and at the
same time kept within the limits of its prerogatives." These words pro-
• " Madame Elizabeth Philippine Marie Helene, sister to Louis XVI., was horn at Ver-
sailles in the year 1764. She was the youngest child of Louis, Dauphin of Franca, ami
Marie Josephine of Saxony. At the commencement of the Revolution, Madame Elizabeth
saw with terror the convocation of the States-general; but when it was found to be inevita-
ble, she devoted herself from that moment entirely to the welfare of her brother and the royal
family. She was condemned to death in 1794, and ascended the scaffold with twenty-four
other victims, not one of whom she knew. She was thirty years old at the time of her
execution, and demeaned herself throughout with courage and resignation." — Biographic
Modenit. E.
336 HISTORY OF THE
duced a favourable impression, and the petitioners themselves, pacified by
their effect, undertook to enlighten and to appease the people.
It was requisite to bring this lon<i sitting to a close. It was therefore
ordered that the effects brought from the palace should be deposited with the
commune; that the Swiss and all other persons apprehended should either
be guarded at the Feuillans or carried to different prisons ; lastly, that the
royal family should be guarded at the Luxembourg till the meeting of the
National Convention, but that, while the necessary preparations were making
there for its reception, it should lodge in the building appropriated to the
Assembly. At one o'clock in the morning of Saturday, the 1 1th, the royal
family was removed to the quarters which had been prepared for them, and
which consisted of four cells of the ancient Feuillans. The gentlemen who
had not quitted the King took possession of the first, the King of the second,
the Queen, her sister, and her children, of the two others. The ke<
wife waited on the princesses, and supplied the place of the numerous train
of ladies, who, but the preceding day, were disputing the honour of attending
upon them.
The sitting was suspended at three o'clock in the morning. Par:
still in an uproar. To prevent disturbance, the environs of the palace were
illuminated, and the greater part of the citizens were under arms.
Such had been that celebrated day, and the results which it had pro-
duced. The King and his family were prisoners at the Feuillans ; the three
dismissed ministers were reinstated in their functions; Danton, buried the
preceding day in an obscure club, was minister of justii D was
guarded in his own residence, but to his name, shouted with enthus
was added the appellation of Father of the People. Marat had issued from
the dark retreat where Danton had concealed him during the attack, and now,
armed with a sword, paraded through Paris at the head of the Marseilles
battalion. Robespierre, who has not been seen figuring during these terrible
scenes — Robespierre was haranguing at the Jacobins, and expatiating to some,
of the members who remained with him on the use to be made of the victory,
and on the necessity of superseding the existing Assembly and of impeaching
Lafayette.
The very next day it was found necessary again to consider how to pacify
the excited populace, who still continued to murder such persons as they
took for fugitive aristocrats. The Assembly resumed its sitting at seven in
the morning. The royal family was replaced in the short-hand writer's box,
that it mi<rht again witness the decisions about to be adopted, and the scenes
that were to occur in the legislative body. Petion, liberated and escorted by
a numerous concourse, came to make a report of the state of Paris, which
he had visited, and where he had endeavoured to restore tranquillity. A
body of citizens had united to protect his person. Petion was warmly re-
ceived by the Assembly, and immediately set out again to continue his pacific
exhortations. The Swiss, sent the preceding day to the Feuillans, wen;
threatened. The mob, with loud shouts, demanded their death, calling them
accomplices of the palace and murderers of the people. They were at length
appeased by the assurance that the Swiss should be tried, and that a court-
martial should be formed to punish those who were afterwards called the
conspirators of the 10th of August "I move,'' cried the violent Chahot,
" that they be conducted to the Abbaye to be tried In the land of
equalitv, the law Ought to smite all heads, even those that are seated on the
throne." The officers had already been removed to the Abbaye. whither the
soldiers were conveyed in their turn. This was a task of infinite difficulty,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 337
and it was necessary to promise the people that they should Bpeedily be
brought to trial.
Already, M we see, did the idea of taking revenge on all the defenders of
royalty, and punishing them for the dangers that had been incurred, possess
people's minds ; and it was soon destined to produce cruel dissensions. In
following the progress of the insurrection, we have already remarked the
divisions that began to arise in the popular party. We have already seen
the Assembly, composed of sedate and cultivated men, placed in opposition
to the clubs and the municipalities, in which were collected men inferior in
education and in talents, but from their position, their less dignified manners,
their aspiring ambition, disposed to act and to hurry on events. We have
seen that the night before the 10th of August, Chabot had differed in opinion
from Petion, who, in unison with the majority of the Assembly, recom-
mended a decree of dethronement in preference to an attack by main force.
Those men who had been advocates for the utmost possible violence were,
therefore, on the following day, in presence of the Assembly, proud of a
victory won almost in spite of that body, and reminding it with expressions
of equivocal respect that it had absolved Lafayette, and that it must not again
compromise the welfare of the people by its weakness. They filled the
commune, where they were mingled with ambitious tradesmen, with subal-
tern agitators, and with members of clubs. They occupied the halls of the
Jacobins and the Cordeliers, and some of them had seats on the extreme
benches of the legislative body. Chabot, the Capuchin, the most ardent of
them, passed alternately from the tribune of the Assembly to that of the
Jacobins, constantly holding forth threats of pikes and the tocsin.
The Assembly had voted the suspension, and the clubs were for dethrone- 1
ment. In appointing a governor for the dauphin, the former had presup-
posed the continuance of royalty, and the latter were for a republic. The
majority of the Assembly thought, that it behoved it to make an active
defence against foreigners, but to spare the vanquished. The clubs, on the
contrary, maintained that it was right not only to defend themselves against
foreign foes, but to deal severely with those who, intrenched in the palace,
had intended to massacre the people and to bring the Prussians to Paris.
Rising in their ardour to extreme opinions, they declared that there was no
need for electoral bodies to form the new Assembly, that all the citizens
ought to be deemed qualified to vote ; nay, one Jacobin even proposed to I
give political rights to the women. Lastly, they loudly insisted that the •
people ought to come in arms to manifest their wishes to the legislative body.
.Marat excited this agitation of minds and provoked people to vengeance,
because he thought, according to his atrocious system, that France required
purging. Robespierre, not so much from a system of purification, nor from
a bloodthirsty disposition, as from envy of the Assembly, excited against it
reproaches of weakness and royalism. Extolled by the Jacobins, proposed,
before the 10th of August, as the dictator who was wanted, he was now pro-
claimed as the most eloquent and the most incorruptible defender of the rights
of the people.* Danton, taking no pains either to gain' praise or to gain :i
hearing, having never aspired to the dictatorship, had nevertheless decided
the result of the 10th of August by his boldness. Even still neglecting all
display, he thought only of ruling the executive council, of which he was a
member, by controlling or influencing his colleagues. Incapable of hatred
* " When speaking at the dubs, Robespierre had a trick of addressing the people in such
honeyed terms as ' Poor people !' — ' Virtuous people !' — which never failed of producing an
effect on his ferocious audience." — Laeretelle. E.
vol. i. — 43 2 F
33S HISTORY OF THE
or envy, he bore no ill-will to those deputi jfl whoso lustre eclipsed Robes-
pierre ; but he neglected them as inactive, ami preferred to them those bold
spirits of the lower classes on whom he relied more for maintaining and
completing the Revolution.
Nothing was yet known of these divisions, especially out of Paris. All
that the public of France in general had yet perceived of them was the re-
sistance of the Assembly to wishes that were too ardent, and the acquittal
of Lafayette, pronounced in spite of the commune and the Jacobins. But
all this was imputed to the royalist and Feuillantine majority. The Giron-
dins were still admired. Brissot and Robespierre were equally esteemed ; but
Petion, in particular, was adored, as the mayor who hid been so ill treated
by the court : and it was not known that Petion appeared too moderate to
Chabot, that he wounded the pride of Robespierre, that he was regarded as
an honest but useless man by Danton, and as a conspirator doomed to purifi-
cation by Marat. Petion, therefore, still enjoyed the respect of the multi-
tude ; but, like Bailly, after the 14th of July, he was destined soon to become
troublesome and odious by disapproving the excesses which he was unable
to prevent.
The principal coalition of the new revolutionists was formed at the Jaco-
bins and the commune. All that was to be done was proposed and discussed
at the Jacobins ; and the same persons then went to the Hotel de Ville, to
. execute, by means of their municipal powers, what they could only plan in
their club. The general council of the commune composed of itself a kind
of assembly, as numerous as the legislative body, having its tribunes, its
bureaux, its much more tumultuous plaudits, and a power de facto much
more considerable. The mayor was its president, and the procareur syndic
was the official speaker, whose duty it was to make all the necessary requi-
sitions. Petion had already ceased to appear there, and confined his atten-
tion to the supply of the city with provisions. • Manuel, the procureur,
suffering himself to be borne along by the revolutionary billows, raised his
voice there every day. But the person who most swayed this assembly
was Robespierre. Keeping aloof during the first three days that followed
the 10th of August, he had repaired thither after the insurrection had b
consummated, and, appearing at the bureau to have his powers verified, he
seemed rather to take possession of it than to come for the purpose of
mitting his titles. His pride, so far from creating displeasure, only inert
the respect that was paid him. His reputation for talents, incorruptibility.
and perseverance, made him a grave and respectable personage, whom
these assembled tradesmen were proud of having amonu them. Until the
Convention, to which he was sure of belongingi should meet, he came thither
to exercise a more real power than that of opinion which he enjoyed at the
Jacobins.
(The first care of the commune was to get the police into its hands ; for,
in time of civil war, to imprison and to persecute enemies is (he most im-
portant and the most envied of power*. The justices of the pence, oha
with the exercise of it in part, had given offence to public opinion by their
proceedings against the popular agitators; . 'Iter from sentiment, or
from a necessity imposed by their functions, they had set themselves in
hostility against the patriots. It was recollected, in particular, that one of
them had, in the affair of Bertram! de Molleville and Carra, the journalist.
dared to summon two deputies. The justices of the peace were then-fore
removed, and such of their functions as related to the police were transferred
to the municipal authorities. In unison, in this instance, with the coram
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 339
of Par ' ly decreed that the police, called the police of general
safety, should be assigned to the departments, districts, and municipalities.
It consisted in inquiring into all misdemeanors threatening the internal and
external welfare of the state, in making a list of the citizens suspected for
thrir opinions or their conduct, in apprehending them for a time, and in even
damning and disarming them, if it were necessary. It was the councils of
anicipalitiee that performed these duties ; and the entire mass of the
citizens was thus called* upon to watch, to denounce, and to secure, the hos-
tile party. It is easy to conceive how active, but rigorous and arbitrary,
this police, democratically exercised, must have been. The entire council
cd the denunciation, and a committee of stnvti/lance examined it, and
caused the accused to be apprehended. The national guards were in per-
manent requisition, and the municipalities of all towns containing more than
twenty thousand souls had power to add particular regulations to this law
if general safety. Assuredly the Legislative Assembly had no notion that
it was thus paving: the way to the sanguinary executions which not long
afterwards took place ; but, surrounded by enemies at home and abroad, it
called upon all the citizens to watch them, as it had called upon them all to
attend to the civil administration, and to fight.
The commune of Paris eagerly availed itself of these new powers, and
caused many persons to be apprehended. Here we see the conquerors, still
exasperated by the dangers of the preceding day and the still greater dangers
of the morrow, seizing their enemies, now cast down, but soon likely to rise
again by the aid of foreigners. The committee of surveillance of the com-
mune of Paris was composed of the most violent men. Marat, who in the
Revolution had made such audacious attacks on persons, was at the head of
this committee ; and in such an office, he of all men was most to be dreaded.
Besides this principal committee, the commune of Paris instituted a par-
ticular one in each section. It ordered that passports should not be delivered
till after the deliberation of the assemblies of sections ; that travellers should
be accompanied, either to the municipalit)' or to the gates of Paris, by two
witnesses, who should attest the identity of the person who had obtained the
passport with him who made use of it for the purpose of departing. It thus
strove, by all possible means, to prevent the escape of suspected persons
under fictitious names. It then directed a list of the enemies of the Revolu-
tion to be madi\ and enjoined the citizens, in a proclamation, to denounce
all who had shared in the guilt of the 10th of August. It ordered those
writers who had • supported the royal cause to be apprehended, and gave
their presses to patriotic writers. Marat triumphantly obtained the restitu-
tion of four presses, which, he said, had been taken from him by order of
the traitor Lafayette. Commissioners went to the prisons to release those
who were confined for shouts or language hostile to the court. Lastly, the
commune, always ready to interfere in everything, sent deputies, after the
example of the Assembly, to enlighten and to convert the army of Lafayette,
which excited some uneasiness.
To the commune was assigned moreover a last and not least important
duty — the custody of the royal family. The Assembly had at first ordered
its removal to the Luxembourg, but, upon the observation that this palace
was difficult to guard, it had preferred the hotel of the ministry of justice.
But the commune, which had already in its hands the police of the capital,
and which considered itself as particularly charged with the custody of the
King, proposed the Temple, and declared that it could not answer for his
safe custody, unless the tower of that ancient abbey were selected for his
340 HISTORY OF THE
dwelling. The Assembly assented, and committed the custody of the illus-
trious prisoners to the mayor and Santerre, the commandant-general, upon
their personal responsibility. Twelve commissioners of the general council
were to keep watch, without interruption, at the Temple. It had been con-
verted by outworks into a kind of fortress. Numerous detachments of the
national guard alternately formed the garrison, and no person was allowed
to enter without permission from the municipality. The Assembly had
decreed that five hundred thousand francs should be taken from the treasury
for the maintenance of the royal family till the approaching meeting of the
National Convention.
The functions of the commune were, as we see, very extensive. Placed
in the centre of the state w,here the great powers are exercised, and impelled
by its energy to do of its own accord whatever seemed to it to be too gently
done by the high authorities, it was hurried into incessant encroachments.
The Assembly, convinced of the necessity of keeping it within certain limits,
ordered the re-election of a new departmental council, to succeed that which
had been dissolved on the day of the insurrection. The commune, perceiv-
ing that it was threatened with the yoke of a superior authority, which would
probably restrain its flights, as the former department had done, was incensed
at this decree, and ordered the sections to suspend the election which had
already commenced. Manuel, the procureur syndic, was immediately de-
spatched from the Hotel de Ville to the Feuillans, to present the remon-
strances of the municipality. " The delegates of the citizens of Paris," said
he, " have need of unlimited powers. A new authority placed between them
and you would only serve to sow the seeds of dissension. It is requisite
that the people, in order to deliver themselves from that power destructive
to their sovereignty, should once more arm themselves with their ven-
geance."
Such was the menacing language which men already had the hardihood
to address to the Assembly. The latter complied with the demand ; and,
whether it believed it to be impossible or imprudent to resist, or that it con-
sidered it to be dangerous to fetter at that moment the energy of the com-
mune, it decided that the new council should have no authority over the
municipality, and be nothing more than a commission of finance, charged
with the superintendence of the public contributions in the department of
the Seine.
Another more serious question engaged the public mind, and served to
demonstrate more forcibly the difference of sentiment prevailing between
the commune and the Assembly. The punishment of those who had fired
upon the people, and who were ready to show themselves as soon as the
enemy should draw near, was loudly demanded. They were called by
turns "the conspirators of the 10th of August," and "the traitors." The
court-martial appointed on the 11th to try the Swiss did not appear suffi-
cient, because its powers were limited to the prosecution of the Swiss
soldiers. The criminal tribunal of the Seine was thought to be fettered by
too slow formalities, and besides, all the authorities anterior to the 10th of
August were suspected. The commune therefore prayed the erection of a
tribunal which should be empowered to take cognizance of the crimes of the
10th of August, and have sufficient latitude to reach all who were oalM
the traitors. The Assembly referred the petition to the extraordinary com-
mission appointed in the month of July to propose the means of safety.
On the 14th, a fresh deputation of the commune was sent to the legislative
body, to demand the decree relative to the extraordinary tribunal, declaring
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 341
that, as it was not yet passed, they were directed to wait for it. Gaston,
the deputy, addressed some severe observations to this deputation, which
withdrew. The Assembly persisted in refusing to create an extraordinary
tribunal, and merely assigned to the established tribunals the cognizance of
the crimes of the 10th of August.
At this intelligence, violent agitation spread through Paris. The section
of the Quinze-Vingts repaired to the general council of the commune, and
intimated that the tocsin would be rung in the fauxbourg St. Antoine, if the
decree applied for were not immediately passed. The general council then
scut a fresh deputation, at the head of which was Robespierre. He spoke
in the name of the municipality, and made the most insolent remonstrances
to the deputies. "The tranquillity of the people," said he, "depends on
the punishment of the guilty, and yet you have done nothing to reach them.
Your decree is insufficient. It does not explain the nature and the extent
of the crimes to be punished, for it specifies only the crimes of the 10//t of
August, and the crimes of the enemies of the Revolution extend far beyond
the 10th of August and Paris. With such an expression, the traitor La-
fayette would escape the vengeance of the law. As for the form of the
tribunal, the people can no longer tolerate that which you have retained.
The twofold degree of jurisdiction causes numberless delays, and, besides,
all the old authorities are suspected ; new ones are required; it is necessary
that the tribunal demanded be composed of deputies taken from the sections,
and that it be empowered to try the guilty, sovereignly, and without appeal."
This imperative petition appeared still more harsh from the tone of Robes-
pierre. The Assembly answered the people of Paris in an address, in
which it rejected any proposal for an extraordinary commission and chambre
ardente, as unworthy of liberty, and fit only for despotism.
These reasonable observations produced no effect. They served only to
increase the irritation. Nothing was talked of in Paris but the tocsin ; and,
the very next day, a representative of the commune appeared at the bar, and
said to the Assembly, " As a citizen, as a magistrate of the people, I come
to inform you that at twelve o'clock this night the tocsin will be rung and
the alarm beaten. The people are weary of not being avenged. Beware
lest they do themselves justice. I demand," added the audacious petitioner,
" that you forthwith decree that a citizen be appointed by each section to
form a criminal tribunal."
This threatening apostrophe roused the Assembly, and particularly the
deputies Choudieu and Thuriot, who warmly reprimanded the envoy of the
commune. A discussion, however, ensued, and the proposal of the com-
mune, strongly supported by the hotheaded members of the Assembly, was
at length converted into a decree. An electoral body was to assemble, to
choose the members of an extraordinary tribunal, destined to take cognizance
of crimes committed on the 10th of August, and other crimes and circum-
stances connected with it. This tribunal, divided into two sections, was
to pronounce sentence finally and without appeal. Such was the first essay
of the revolutionary tribunal, and the first spur given by vengeance to the
forms of justice. This tribunal was called the tribunal of the 17th of August.
The effect produced on the armies by the recent revolution, and the man-
ner in which they had received the decrees of the 10th, were still unknown.
This was the most important point, and the fate of the new revolution depended
upon it. The frontier was still divided into three armies, the army of the North,
the army of the centre, and the army of the South. Luckner commanded the
first, Lafayette the second, and Montesquiou the third. Since the unfortu-
2 f2
342 HISTORY OF THE
nate affairs at Mons and Tournay, Luckner, urged by Dumouriez, had ag^in
attempted the offensive against the Netherlands, but had retreated, and, in
evacuating Courtray, had burned the suburbs, which was made a serious
charge against the ministry the day before the dethronement. The armies
had since remained in a state of complete inactivity, living in intrenched
camps, and confining themselves to slight skirmishes. Dumouriez, after
resigning the ministry, had gone as lieutenant-general under Luckner, and
been unfavourably received by the army, where the spirit of Lafayette's
party predominated. Luckner, wholly under this influence for a moment,
sent Dumouriez to one of these camps, that of Maulde, and there left him,
with a small number of troops, to amuse himself with intrenchments and
skirmishes.
Lafayette, wishing, amidst the dangers that encompassed the King, to be
nearer to Paris, had been desirous of taking the command of the North. He
was, nevertheless, unwilling to quit his troops, by whom he was greatly
beloved, and he agreed with Luckner to change positions, each with his
division, and to decamp, the one for the North, the other for the centre.
This operation, in the presence of an enemy* might have been attended with
danger, if, very luckily, the war had not been so completely inactive. Luck-
ner had therefore repaired to Metz, and Lafayette to Sedan. During this
cross-movement, Dumouriez, who was directed to follow with his little corps
the army of Luckner, to which he belonged, halted suddenly in presence of
the enemy, who had threatened to attack him ; and he was obliged to remain
in his camp, lest he should lay open the entry to Flanders to the Duke of
Saxe-Teschen. He assembled the other generals who occupied separate
camps near him ; he concerted with Dillon,* who came up with a portion
of Lafayette's army, and insisted on a council of war at Valenciennes, for
the purpose of justifying, by the necessity of the case, his disobedience to
Luckner. Meanwhile Luckner had arrived at Metz, and Lafayette at
Sedan; and, but for the events of the 10th of August, Dumouriez would
probably have been put under arrest, and brought to a military trial for his
x'efusal to advance.
Such was the situation of the armies when they received tidings of the
overthrow of the throne. The first point to which the Legislative Assembly
turned its attention was, as we have seen, to send three commissioners to
carry its decrees and to make the troops take the new oath. The three
commissioners, on their arrival at Sedan, were received by the municipality,
which had orders from Lafayette to cause them to be apprehended. The
mayor questioned them concerning the scene of the 10th of August, required
an account of all the circumstances, and declared, agreeably to the secret
instructions which he had received from Lafayette, that evidendy the Legis-
lative Assembly was no longer free when it decreed the suspension of the
King ; that its commissioners were but the envoys of a factious cabal ; and
that they should be put into confinement in the name of the constitution.
They were actually imprisoned, and Lafayette, to exonerate those who exe-
cuted his order, took upon himself the sole responsibility. Immediately
afterwards, he caused his army to take anew the oath of fidelity to the law
and to the King ; and ordered the same to be done by all the corps under
• " The Count Arthur de Dillon, a general officer in the French service, was deputed from
Martinique to the States-general, and embraced the revolutionary party. In 1792 he took
one of the chief commands in the army of the North. In the year 1794 he was condemned
to death by the revolutionary tribunal as a conspirator. He was forty-three years old, and
was born at Berwick in England." — Biographic Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 343
his command. He reckoned upon seventy-five departments, which had
adhered to his letter of the 16th of June, and he purposed to attempt a con-
trary movement to that of the 10th of Ausust. Dillon, who was at Valen-
ricnnes, under the orders of Lafayette, and who held a superior command
to Dumouriez, obeyed his general-in-chief, caused the oath of fidelity to the
law and to the King to be taken, and enjoined Dumouriez to do the same in
hifl camp at Maulde. Dumouriez, judging more correctly of the future, and
crated moreover against the Feuillans, under whose control he was,
seised the occasion to resist them, and to ingratiate himself with the new
government, by refusing either to take the oath himself, or to allow it to be
taken by his troops.
On the 17th, the very day on which the new tribunal was so simultane-
ously established, a letter arrived, stating that the commissioners sent to the
army of Lafayette had been apprehended by his orders, and that the legisla-
tive authority was denied. This intelligence produced more irritation than
alarm. The outcry against Lafayette was more vehement than ever. His
accusation was demanded, and the Assembly was reproached with not hav-
ing ordered it before. A decree was instantly passed against the department
of the Ardennes ; fresh commissioners were despatched with the same
powers as their predecessors, and with directions to cause the three prisoners
to be liberated. Other commissioners were sent to Dillon's army. On the
morning of the 19th, the Assembly declared Lafayette a traitor to the coun-
try, and passed a decree of accusation against him.
The circumstance was serious, and if this resistance were not overcome,
the new revolution would prove abortive. France, divided between the re-
publicans in the interior and the constitutionalists of the army, would be
exposed to invasion and to a terrible reaction. Lafayette could not but
detect in the revolution of the 10th of August the abolition of the constitution
of 1791, the accomplishment of all his aristocratic prophecies, and the justi-
fication of all the reproaches which the court addressed to liberty. In
this victory of democracy he must have beheld nothing but a sanguinary
anarchy and an endless confusion. For us this confusion has had an
end, and our soil at least has been defended against foreigners ; but to
Lafayette the future was unknown and alarming; the defence of the soil
was scarcely to be presumed amidst political convulsions ; and he could
not but feel a desire to withstand this chaos, by arming himself against the
two foes within and without. But his position was beset with difficulties,
which it would have been beyond the power of any man to surmount. His
army was devoted to him, but armies have no personal will, and cannot
have any but what is communicated to them by the superior authority.
When a revolution bursts forth with the violence of that of 1789, then hur-
ried blindly on, they desert the old authority, because the new impulse is
the stronger of the two. But this was not the case in this instance. La-
fayette, proscribed, stricken by a decree, could not, by his mere military
popularity, excite his troops against the authority of the interior, and by his
personal energy counteract the revolutionary energy of Paris. Plan
tween two enemies, and uncertain respecting his duty, he could not but hesitate.
The Assembly, on the contrary, not hesitating, sending decree after decree,
and supporting each by energetic commissioners, could not fail to triumph
over the hesitation of the general, and to decide the army. Accordingly ,
the troops of Lafayette were successively shaken, and appeared to be forsak-
ing him. The civil authorities, being intimidated, yielded to the new com-
missioners. The example of Dumouriez, who declared himself in favour
344 HISTORY OF THE
of the revolution of the 10th of August, completed the defection; and the
opposing general was left alone with his staff, composed of Feuillans or
constitutional officers.
Bouille, whose energy was not doubtful, Dumouriez, whose great talents
could not be disputed, could not do otherwise at different periods, and were
obliged to betake themselves to flight. Lafayette was destined to be equally
unfortunate. Writing to the different civil authorities which had seconded
him in his resistance, he took upon himself the responsibility of the orders
issued against the commissioners of the Assembly, and left his camp on the
20th of August, with a few officers, his friends and his companions in arm/
and in opinion. He was accompanied by Bureau de'Puzy, Latour-.Mau-
bourg, and Lameth. They quitted the camp, taking with them only a
month's pay, and were followed by a few servants. Lafayette left every-
thing in order in his army, and had taken care to make the necessary dispo-
sitions in case of attack. He sent back some horse who attended him, that
he might not rob France of one of her defenders ; and, on the 21st, he and
his friends took the road to the Netherlands. On reaching the Austrian ad-
vanced posts, after a journey which exhausted their horses, these first
emigrants of liberty were arrested, contrary to the right of nations, and
treated as prisoners of war. Great was the joy when the name of Lafayette
rang in the camp of the allies, and it was known that he was a captive to
the aristocratic league. To torment one of the first friends of the Revolu-
tion, to have a pretext for imputing. to the Revolution itself the persecution
of its first authors, and to behold the fulfilment of all its predicted excesses,
diffused general satisfaction among the European aristocracy.*
Lafayette claimed for himself and his friends that liberty which was their
right, but to no purpose. He was offered it on condition of recanting, not
all his opinions, but only one of them — that relative to the abolition of
nobility. He refused, threatening even in case his words should be falsely
interpreted to give a formal contradiction before a public officer. He there-
fore accepted fetters as the price of his constancy ; and, even when he looked
upon liberty as lost in Europe and in France, his mind continued unshaken,
and he never ceased to consider freedom as the most valuable of blessings.
This he still professed, both towards the oppressors who detained him in
their dungeons, and towards his old friends who remained in France.t
• " Lafayette was under the necessity of observing the greatest secrecy in his departure, in
order to avoid increasing the number of his companions in exile, who consisted only of La-
■Aur-Maubourg and his two brothers, Bureaux de Puzy, his aides-de-camp, and stall" officers
in the Parisian national guard, and some friends, exposed to certain death in consequence
of their participation in his last efforts against anarchy. Fifteen officers of different ranks
accompanied him. On arriving at Rochefort, where the party (considerably reduced in num-
ber) were stopped, Bureaux de Puzy was compelled to go forward and obtain a pass from
General Moitelle, in command at Namur. He set out accordingly, but, before he could utter
a syllable of explanation, that general exclaimed, 'What, Lafayette? Lafayette ? — Run
instantly and inform the Duke of Bourbon of it — Lafayette ?— Set out this moment,' address-
ing one of his officers, ' and carry this news to his royal highness at Brussels ; and on he
went, muttering to himself the word ' Lafayette.' It was not until he had given orders to
write to all the princes and generals he could think of, that Puzy could put in his request for
a pass, which was of course refused." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
+ " However irritated they might be by Lafayette's behaviour at the outset of the Revo-
lution, the present conduct of the monarchs towards him was neither to be vindicated by
morality, the law of nations, nor the rules of sound policy. Even if be had been amenable
for a crime against his own country, we know not what right Austria or Prussia had to take
cognizance of it To them he was a mere prisoner of war, and nothing further. It is very
seldom that a petty, vindictive line of policy, accords with the real interest, either of great
princes or of private individuals." Scott's Lift of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 345
44 Continue," he wrote to the latter, " continue to love liberty, in spite of its
storms, and serve your country." Let us compare this defection with that
of BooilMi quitting his country to return with die hostile sovereigns; with
that of Dumouriez, quarrelling, not from conviction but from spite, widi the
Convention whom he had served ; and we shall do justice to the man who
did not leave France till the truth in which he believed was proscribed there,
and who went neither to curse nor to disavow it in the enemy's armies, but
still continued to profess and maintain it in dungeons.
Let us not, however, cast too severe censure on Dumouriez, whose memo-
rable services we shall soon have occasion to appreciate. This flexible and
clever man had a just presentiment of the nascent power. After he had made
himself almost independent by his refusal to obey Luckner, and to leave his
camp at Maulde, after he had refused to take the oath ordered by Dillon, he
was immediately recompensed for his attachment by the chief command of
the armies of the North and the centre. Dillon, brave, impetuous, but
blind, was at first displaced for having obeyed Lafayette ; but he was rein-
stated in his command through the influence of Dumouriez, who, anxious to
reach his goal, and to injure as few persons as possible in his progress, be-
came his warm advocate with the commissioners of the Assembly. Dumou-
riez, therefore, found himself general-in-chief of the whole frontier from
Metz to Dunkirk. Luckner was at Metz, with his army, formerly the army
of the North. Swayed at first by Lafayette, he had shown resistance to the
10th of August; but, soon giving way to his army and to the commissioners
of the Assembly, he acquiesced in the decrees, and after once more weeping,
he yielded to the new impulse that was communicated to him.
The 10th of August and the advance of the season were motives sufficient
to decide the coalition at length to push the war with vigour. The disposi-
tions of the powers in regard to France were not changed. England, Hol-
land, Denmark, and Switzerland, still promised a strict neutrality. Sweden,
since the death of Gustavus, had sincerely adopted a similar course. The
Italian principalities were most inimical to us, but fortunately quite impotent.
Spain had not yet spoken out, but continued to be distracted by conflicting
intrigues. Thus there were left, as decided enemies, Russia and the two
prinripal courts of Germany. But Russia as yet went no further than un-
friendly demonstrations, and confined herself to sending away our ambassa-
dor. Prussia and Austria alone earried their arms to our frontiers. Among
the German states there were but the three ecclesiastical electors, and the
landgraves of the two Hesses, that had taken an active part in the coalition.
The others waited till they should be compelled to do so. In this state of
things, one hundred and thirty-eight thousand men, excellently organized
and disciplined, threatened France, which could oppose to them at the
utmost but one hundred and twenty thousand, spread over an immense
frontier, not forming a sufficient mass at any point, deprived of their officers,
feeling no confidence in themselves or their leaders, and having as yet
experienced nothing but checks in the war of posts which they had
maintained.
The plan of the coalition was to invade France boldly, penetrating by thej
Ardennes, and proceeding by Chalons towards Paris. The two sovereigns'
of Prussia and Austria had repaired in person to Mayence. Sixty thousand
Prussians, heirs to the traditions and the glory of the great Frederick, ad-
vanced in a single column upon our centre. They marched by Luxembourg
upon Longwy. Twenty thousand Austrians, commanded by General Clair-
fayt, supported them on the right by occupying Stenay. Sixteen thousand
vol. i. — 44
346 HISTORY OF THE
Austrians, commanded by the Prince of Hohenlohe-Kirchberg, and ten
thousand Hessians, flanked the left of the Prussians. The Duke of Saxe-
Teschen occupied the Netherlands and threatened the fortresses. The Prince
of Conde, with six thousand French emigrants, had proceeded towards
Philipsbourg. Several other corps of emigrants were attached to the different
Prussian and Austrian armies. The foreign courts which, in collecting the
emigrants, were still desirous to prevent their acquiring too much influence,
had at first intended to blend them with the German regiments, but had at
length consented to suffer them to form distinct corps, yet distributed among
the allied armies. These corps were full of officers who had condescended
to become privates, and they formed a brilliant body of cavalry, which, how-
ever, was more capable of displaying great valour on the day of perU, than
of supporting a long campaign.
The French armies were disposed in the most unsuitable manner for
withstanding such a mass of forces. Three generals, Beurnonville, Moretou,
and Duval, commanded a total of thirty thousand men in three separate
camps, Maulde, Maubeuge, and Lille. These were the whole of the French
resources on the frontier of the North and of the Low Countries. Lafay-
ette's army, twenty-three thousand strong, disorganized by the departure of
its general, and weakened by the utmost uncertainty of sentiment, was en-
camped at Sedan. Dumouriez was going to take the command of it.
Luckner's army, composed of twenty thousand men, occupied Metz, and,
like all the others, had just had a new general given to it, namely, Keller-
mann.* The Assembly, dissatisfied with Luckner, had -nevertheless resolved
not to dismiss him ; but whilst transferring his command to Kellermann, it
had assigned to him, with the title of generalissimo, the duty of organizing
the new army of reserve, and the purely honorary function of counselling the
generals. There remain to be mentioned Custine, who with fifteen thousand
men occupied Landau, and lastly, Biron, who, posted in Alsace with thirty
thousand men, was too far from the principal theatre of the war, to influence
the issue of the campaign.
The only two corps placed on the track pursued by the grand army of the
allies, were the twenty-three thousand men forsaken by Lafayette, and Kel-
lermann's twenty thousand stationed around Metz. If the grand invading
army, conforming its movements to its object, had marched rapidly upon
Sedan, while the troops of Lafayette, deprived of their general, were a prey
to disorder, and, not having yet been joined by Pumouriez, were without
unity and without direction, the principal defensive corps would have been
overwhelmed, the Ardennes would have been opened, and the other generals
would have been obliged to fall back rapidly for the purpose of concentrating
themselves behind the Marne. Perhaps they would not have had time to
come from LUle and Metz to Chalons and Rheims. In this case Paris
would have been uncovered, and the new government would have had
nothing left but the absurd scheme of a camp below Paris, or flight beyond
the Loire.
But if France defended herself with all the disorder of a revolution, the
* " Kellermann, a French general, began life as a private hussar, but was soon promoted
for his skill and good conduct. In 1792 he obtained the command of the army of the Moselle,
and distinguished himself at the battle of Valmy. In 1794 he was brought before the revolu-
tionary tribunal, but acquitted. In 1799 he became a member of the consular senate ; in 1802
he obtained the title of grand officer of the Legion of Honour ; and, soon afterward*, was
raised to the rank of marshal of the empire. He was father of the celebrated Kellermann,
whose glorious charge decided the battle of Marengo." — Biographic Modern*. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 347
foreign powers attacked with all the uncertainty and discordance of views
that characterize a coalition. The King of Prussia, intoxicated with the
idea of an easy conquest, flattered and deceived by the emigrants, who repre-
sented tlie invasion to him as a mere military promenade, wished it to be
conducted with the boldest expedition. But Uiere was still too much pru-
dence at his side, in the Duke of Brunswick, to allow his presumption to
have at least the happy effect of audacity and promptness. The Duke of
Brunswick, who saw that the season was far advanced, the country very
differently disposed from what the emigrants had represented, who, more-
over, judged of the revolutionary energy by the insurrection of the 10th of
August, thought that it would be better to secure a solid base of operations
on the Moselle, by laying siege to Metz and Thionville, and deferring till
die next spring the recommencement of the war with die advantage of the
preceding conquests. This struggle between the precipitancy of the sove-
reign and the prudence of the general, and the tardiness of the Austrians,
who sent under the command of Prince Hohenlohe but eighteen thousand
men instead of fifty, prevented any decisive movement. The Prussian army,»
however, continued to march towards the centre, and was, on the 20th, be-j
fore Longwy, one of the most advanced fortresses of that frontier.
Dumouriez, who had always been of opinion that an invasion of the
Netherlands would cause a revolution to break out there, and that this diver-
sion would save France from the attacks of Germany, had made every pre-
paration for advancing ever since the day on which he received his commission
as general-in-chief of the two armies. He was already on the point of taking
the offensive against the Prince of Saxe-Teschen, when Westermann, who
had been so active on the 10th of August, and was afterwards sent as com-
missioner to the army of Lafayette, came to inform him of what was passing
on the theatre of the great invasion. On the 22d, Longwy had opened its
gates to the Prussians, after a bombardment of a few hours, in consequence
of the disorder of the garrison and die weakness of the commandant. Elated
with this conquest, and the capture of Lafayette, the Prussians M*ere more
favourably disposed dian ever towards the plan of a prompt offensive. The
army of Lafayette would be undone if the new general did not go to inspire
it with confidence by his presence, and to direct its movements in a useful
manner.
Dumouriez, therefore, relinquished his favourite plan, and repaired on the
25th, or 26th, to Sedan, where his presence at first excited nothing but ani-
mosity and reproaches among the troops. He was the enemy of Lafayette,
who was still beloved by them. He was, moreover, supposed to be the
author of that unhappy war, because it had been declared during his adminis-
tration. Lasdy, he was considered as a man possessing much greater skill
in the use of the pen than of the sword. This language was in the mouths
of all the soldiers, and frequendy reached the ear of the general. He was
not disconcerted by it. He began by cheering the troops, by affecting a firm
and tranquil countenance, and soon made them aware of the influence of a
more vigorous command.* Still the situation of twenty-three thousand
disorganized men, in presence of eighty thousand in a state of the highest
discipline, was most discouraging. The Prussians, after taking Longwy,
• " Dumouriez, who up to this time had played but a subordinate military part, very much
surpassed any expectation that could have been formed of him. He displayed a great deal of
talent and enlarged views ; and for some little time his patriotism was estimated by his sac-
cess." — LdfaycLU'i Memoirs. E
348 HISTORY OF THE
had blockaded Thionville, and were advancing upon Verdun, which was
much less capable of resistance than the fortress of Longwy.
The generals, called together by Dumouriez, were all of opinion that they
ought not to wait for the Prussians at Sedan, but to retire rapidly behind the
Marne, to intrench themselves there in the best manner possible, to wait for
the junction of the other armies, and thus cover the capital, which would be
but forty leagues distant from the enemy. They all thought that, if they
should suffer a defeat in attempting to resist the invasion, the overthrow
would be complete, that the discomfited army would not stop between Sedan
and Paris, and that the Prussians would march directly thither at a conque-
ror's pace. Such was our military situation, and the opinion which our
generals entertained of it.
The notions formed at Paris on the subject were not more favourable, and
the irritation increased with the danger. Meanwhile that immense capital
which had never seen an enemy in its bosom, and which formed an idea of
its strength proportionate to its extent and population, could scarcely con-
ceive it possible for a foe to penetrate within its walls. It had much less
dread of the military peril, which it did not perceive, and which was still at
a distance from it, than the peril of a reaction on the part of the royalists,
who were quelled for the moment. Whilst on the frontiers the generals saw
nothing but the Prussians ; in the interior, people saw nothing but the aris-
tocrats secretly conspiring to destroy liberty. They said that, to be sure,
the King was a prisoner, but his party nevertheless existed, and that it was
conspiring, as before the 10th of August, to open Paris to the foreigners.
They figured to themselves all the great houses in the capital filled with
armed assemblages, ready to sally forth at the first signal, to deliver Louis
XVI., to seize the chief authority, and to consign France, without defence,
to the sword of the emigrants and of the allies. This correspondence be-
tween the internal and the external enemy, engrossed all minds. It behoves
us, it was said, to rid ourselves of traitors ; and already the horrible idea of
sacrificing the vanquished was conceived — an idea which, with the majority,
was only a movement of imagination, but which, by some few only, either
more bloodthirsty, more hotheaded, or more powerfully impelled to action,
could be converted into a real and meditated plan.
We have already seen that it was proposed to avenge the people for the
blows inflicted upon them on the 10th, and that a violent quarrel had arisen
between the Assembly and the commune, on the subject of the extraordinary
tribunal. This tribunal, to which Dangreraont and the unfortunate Laporte,
intendant of the civil list, had already fallen victims, did not act with suffi-
cient despatch according to the notions of a furious and heated populace,
who beheld enemies on every side. It demanded forms more expeditious
for punishing traitors, and, above all, it insisted on the trial of the persons
transferred to the high court at Orleans. These were, for the most part,
ministers and high functionaries, accused, as we have seen, of malversation.
Delessart, minister for foreign affairs, was among the number. Outcries
were raised on all sides against the tardiness of the proceedings ; the removal
of the prisoners to Paris, and their immediate trial by the tribunal of the
17th of August, were required. The Assembly, being consulted on this
point, or rather summoned to comply with the general wish, and to pass a
decree for the transfer, had made a courageous resistance.^ The high national
court was, it alleged, a constitutional establishment, which it could not
change, because it did not possess the constituent powers, and because it
was die right of every accused person to be tried only according to anterior
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
laws. This question had been raised afresh by hosts of petitioners ; and
the Assembly had at once to resist an ardent minority, the commune, and
the tumultuous sections. It had merely accelerated some of the formalities
of the proceedings, but decreed that the persons accused before the high
court should remain at Orleans, and not be withdrawn from the jurisdiction
which the constitution had insured to them.
Thus, then, two opinions were formed : one which held that it was right
• the vanquished without exerting less energy against foreigners ; the
other* which insisted that all secret enemies ought to be sacrificed, before
people went to meet the armed enemies who were advancing towards Paris.
This latter was not so much an opinion as a blind and ferocious sentiment,
compounded of fear and rage, and which was destined to increase with the
danger.
The Parisians were the more irritated the greater was the peril for their
city — the focus of all the insurrections, and the principal goal to which the
mardi of the hostile armies tended. They accused the Assembly, composed
of deputies of the departments, of an intention to retire to the provinces.
The Girondins, in particular, who chiefly belonged to the provinces of the
South, and formed that moderate majority which was odious to the com-
mune, were accused of a wish to sacrifice the capital, out of hatred to it.
In this instance a sentiment was attributed to them which they would have
been justified in harbouring. But the greater number of them loved their
countryi and their cause too sincerely to think of leaving Paris. They had,
it is true, always been of opinion that, if the North were lost, they could
fall back upon the South ; and, at this "very moment, some of them deemed/
it prudent to remove the seat of government to the other side of the Loire ; but)
no such desire as to sacrifice a hated city and to transfer the government to
places where they would be its masters, ever entered their hearts. They
were too high-minded, they were moreover still too powerful, and they
reckoned too much on the meeting of the approaching Convention, to think
so soon of forsaking Paris.
Thus they were charged at once with indulgence towards traitors and with
indifference to the interests of the capital. Having to contend with the most
violent men, they could do no other, even though they had numbers and
reason on their side, than succumb to the activity and the energy of their
adversaries. In the executive council they were five to one, for, besides the
three ministers, Servan, Clavieres, and Roland, selected from among them,
the last two, Monge and Lebrun, were likewise of their choice. But Dan-
ton, who, without being their personal enemy, had neither their moderation
nor their opinions — Danton* singly, swayed the council and deprived them
of all influence. While Clavieres was striving to collect some financial re-
sources, Servan bestirring himself to procure reinforcements for the generals,
and Roland despatching the most discreet circulars to enlighten the pro-
vinces, to direct the local authorities, to prevent their encroachments on
power, and to check violence of every kind, Danton was busily engaged in
placing all his creatures in the administration. He sent his faithful Corde-
liers to all parts, and thus attached to himself numerous supporters, and pro-
* " Roland and Clavieres formed a sort of party in the council, and were supported by
Brissot and the Bordeaux members in the Assembly, and by Petion and Manuel in the mu-
nicipality. Servan, Monge, and Lebrun, dared not have an opinion of their own. But the
man among diem who struck the greatest terror — the man who, with a frown or a single
glance of his scowling eye, made all his colleagues tremble — was Danton, minister in U.e
law department. Terror was the weapon he employed." — Peltier. 11
2G
350 HISTORY OF TflE
cured for his friends a share in the profits of the Revolution. Influencing
or alarming his colleagues, he found no obstacle but in the inflexible princi-
ples of Roland, who frequently refused assent to the measures or subj
which he proposed. Danton was vexed at this, though ho did not break
with Roland, and he strove to carry as many appointments or decisions as
he possibly could.
Danton, whose real sway was in Paris, was anxious to retain it, and fully
determined to prevent any removal beyond the Loire. Endued with extra-
ordinary boldness, having proclaimed the insurrection on the night preceding
the 10th of August, when every one else still hesitated, he was not a man le
recede, and he thought that it behoved him and his colleagues to sacrifice
themselves in the capital. Master of the council, connected with Marat
and the committee of surveillance of the commune, haranguing in all the
clubs, living, in short, amidst the mob, as in an element which he agitated
at pleasure, Danton was the most powerful man in Paris ; and that power,
founded on a violent disposition, which brought him in contact with the pas-
sions of the people, could not but be formidable to the vanquished. In his
revolutionary ardour, Danton inclined to all the ideas of vengeance which
the Girondins repelled. He was the leader of that Parisian party which
said of itself, " We will not recede. We will perish in the capital and be-
neath its ruins, but our enemies shall perish before us." Thus were hor-
rible sentiments engendered in minds, and horrible scenes were soon to be
their frightful consequences.
On the 26th, the tidings of the capture of Longwy spread with rapidity
and caused a general agitation in Paris. People disputed all day on its pro-
bability ; at length it could be no longer contested, and it became known that
the place had opened its gates after a bombardment of a few hours. The
/ferment excited was such that the Assembly decreed the penalty of death
I against any one who should propose to surrender in .a besieged place. On
the demand of the commune, it was decreed that Paris and the neighbouring
departments should furnish, within a few days, thirty thousand men aimed
and equipped. The prevailing enthusiasm rendered it easy to raise this
number, and the number served to dispel the apprehensions of danger. It
was impossible to suppose that one hundred thousand Prussians could sub-
due several millions of men who were determined to defend themselv. •«.
The works at the camp near Paris were carried on with renewed activity,
and the women assembled in the churches to assist in preparing necessaries
for the encampment.
Danton repaired to the commune, and at his suggestion recourse was had
to extreme means. It was resolved to make a list of all the indigent per-
sons in the sections, and to give them pay and arms. It was moreover
determined to disarm and apprehend all suspicious persons ; and all who
had signed the petition against the 20th of June, and against the decree for
the camp below Paris, were reputed such. In order to effect this disarming
and apprehension, the plan of domiciliary visits was conceived and executed
in the most frightful manner.* The barriers were to be closed for forty-
• "Lot the reader fancy to himself a vast metropolis, the streets of which were a few days
before alive with the concourse of carriages, and with citizens constantly passing and repass-
ing— let him fancy to himself, I say, streets so populous and so animated, suddenly struck
with the dead silence of the grave, before sunset, on a fine summer evening. All the shops
are shut ; everybody retires into the interior of his house, trembling for life and property ; all
are in fearful expectation of the events of a night in which even the efforts of despair are not
likely to afford the least resource to any individual x The sole object of the domiciliary visits,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 351
*ight hours, from the evening of the 29th, and no permission to leave th«;
city upon any account whatever was to be granted. Guard-ships were sta-
tioned on the river to prevent any escape by that oudet. The surrounding
communes were directed to stop every person they should find in the fields
or on the roads. The drum was to announce the visits, and at this signal
every person was required to repair to his home, upon pain of being treated
as one suspected of seditiously assembling, if found in the house of another.
For this reason, all the sectional assemblies, and the great tribunal itself,
were to suspend their meetings for those two days. Commissioners of die
commune, assisted by the armed force, were empowered to pay these visits,
to seize arms, and to apprehend suspected persons, that is to say, die signers
of all the petitions already mentioned, the nonjuring priests, such citizens as
should be guilty of falsehood in their declarations, those against whom there
were denunciations, &c. At ten o'clock in the evening, the streets were to
be cleared of all carriages, and the city was to be illuminated during the
whole night.
Such were the measures adopted for the purpose of apprehending, it was
said, the bad citizens who had concealed themselves since the lOtli of Au-
gust. These visits were begun on the evening of the 29th, and one party,
incurring the denunciation of another, was liable to be thrown into the pri-
sons. All who had belonged to the late court, either by office, oj by rank,
or by attendance at the palace — all who had declared themselves in its favour
during the various royalist movements — all who had base enemies, capable
of revenging themselves by a denunciation, were consigned to the prisons,
to the number of twelve or fifteen thousand persons ! It was the committee
of surveillance of the commune which superintended these apprehensions,
and caused diem to be executed before its eyes. Those who were appre-
hended were first taken from their abode to the committee of their section,
and from this committee to that of the commune. There they were briefly
questioned respecting their sentiments and the acts which proved their
greater or less energy They were frequently examined by a single member
of the committee, while the other members, exhausted with watching for
several successive days and nights, were sleeping upon the chairs or the
tables. The persons apprehended were at first carried to the Hotel de Ville,
and afterwards distributed among the different prisons, in which any room
was left. Here were confined all the advocates of those various opinions
which had succeeded one another till the 10th of August, all the ranks which
it is pretended, is to search for arms, yet the barriers are shut and guarded with the strictest
vigilance, and boats are stationed on the river, at regular distances, filled with armed men.
Every one supposes himself to be informed against Everywhere persons and property are
put into concealment Everywhere are heard the interrupted sounds of the muffled hammer,
with cautious knock completing the hiding-place. Roofs, garrets, sinks, chimneys — all are
just the same to fear, incapable of calculating any ri.sk. One man, squeezed up behind the
wainscot which has been nailed back on him, seems to form a part of the wall ; another is
suffocated with fear and heat between two mattresses ; a third, rolled up in a cask, loses all
sense of existence by the tension of his sinews. Apprehension is stronger than pain. Men
tremble, but they do not shed tears ; the heart shivers, the eye is dull, and the breast con-
tracted. Women, on this occasion, display prodigies of tenderness and intrepidity. It was
by them that most of the men were concealed. It was one o'clock in the morning when the
domiciliary visits began. Patroles, consisting of sixty pikemen, were in every street. The
nocturnal tumult of so many armed men ; the incessant knocks to make people o|>en their
doors; the crash of those that were burst off their binges; and the continual uproar and
revelling which took place throughout the night in nil the public-houses, formed a picture
which will never be effaced from my memory." — Peltier. E.
352 HISTORY OF THE
had been overthrown, and plain tradesmen, who were already deemed as
great aristocrats as dukes and princes.
Terror pervaded all Paris. It prevailed alike among the republicans
threatened by the Prussian armies, and among the royalists threatened by
the republicans. The committee of general defence, appointed by the As-
sembly to consider of the means of resisting the enemy, met on the 30th,
and solicited the attendance of die executive council for the purpose of de-
liberating with it on the means of the public welfare. The meeting was
numerous, because the members of the committee were joined by a multitude
of deputies who wished to be present at this sitting. Various plans were
suggested. Servan, the minister, had no confidence in the armies, and did
not think it possible for Dumouriez to stop the Prussians with the twenty-
three thousand men left him by Lafayette. He conceived that, between
them and Paris, there was no position of sufficient strength to make head
against them and to check their march. All coincided with him on this
point, and, after it had been proposed that the whole population in arms
should be collected under the walls of Paris, in order to combat there with
desperation, it was suggested that the Assembly should retire, in case of
emergency, to Saumur, to place a wider space and fresh obstacles between
the enemy and the depositaries of the national sovereignty. Vergniaud
and Guadet opposed the idea of quitting Paris. They were followed by
Dan ton.
"It is proposed," said he, "that you should quit Paris. You are well
aware that, in the opinion of the enemy, Paris represents France, and that
to cede this point is to abandon the Revolution to them. If we give way
we are undone. We must, therefore, maintain our ground by all possible
means, and save ourselves by audacity.
"Among the means proposed none seems to me decisive. We must not
disguise from ourselves the situation in which we are placed by the 10th of
August. It has divided us into royalists and republicans. The former are
very numerous, the latter far from it. In this state of weakness, we repub-
licans are exposed to two fires — that of the enemy placed without, and that
of the royalists placed within. There is a royal directory, which holds
secret meetings at Paris, and corresponds with the Prussian army. To tell
you where it assembles, and of whom it is composed, is not in the power
of the ministers. But to disconcert it, and to prevent its baneful corres-
pondence with foreigners, we must — we must strike terror into the
royalists."
At these words, accompanied by a gesture betokening extermination,
horror overspread every face.
" I tell you," resumed Dantoh, "you must strike terror into the royalists.
.... It is in Paris above all that it behoves you to stand your ground,
and it is not by wasting yourselves in uncertain combats that you will suc-
ceed in doing so." A stupor instantly pervaded the Assembly. Not a
word more was added to this speech, and every one retired, without fore-
seeing precisely, without daring even to penetrate, the measures contemplated
by the minister.
He repaired immediately to the committee of surveillance of the commune,
which disposed with sovereign authority of the persons of all the citizens,
and over which Marat reigned. The blind and ignorant colleagues of Mam!
were Panis and Sergent, already conspicuous on the 20th of Jump and the
10th of August, and four others, named Jourdeuil, Duplain. I.efort, and
Lenfant. There, in the night between die 30th and the 31st of August,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 353
horrible plans were meditated against the unfortunate persons confined in the
prisons of Paris. Deplorable and dreadful instance of political excitement!
Danton, who was known never to harbour hatred against personal enemies,
and to be frequendy accessible to pity, lent his audacity to the atrocious
reveries of Marat. They two hatched a plot, of which several centuries
have furnished examples, but which, at the conclusion of the eighteenth,
cannot bo explained by the ignorance of the times and the ferocity of man-
ners. We have seen, three years before this, a man named Maillard* figur-
ing at the head of the female insurgents on the famous days of the 5th and
6th of October. This Maillard, who had been usher to a court of justice,
an intelligent but bloodthirsty man, had formed a band of low desperadoes
fit for any enterprise ; such, in short, as are to be found in those classes
where education has not purified the passions by enlightening the under-
standing. He was known as the leader of this band, and, if we may credit
a recent revelation, he received notice to hold himself in readiness to act
upon the first signal, to place himself where he could strike with effect
and certainty, to prepare bludgeons, to take precautions for preventing the
cries of the victims, to procure vinegar, holly brooms, quick lime, covered
carts, &c.
From that moment vague rumours of a terrible execution were circulated.
The relatives of the prisoners were upon the rack, and the plot, like that of
the 10th of August, the 20th of June, and all the others, was foreshown by
portentous signs. On all sides it was repeated that it was requisite to over-
awe by a single example the conspirators, who, in the recesses of the prisons,
were corresponding with foreigners. People complained of the tardiness of
the tribunal instituted to punish the culprits of the 10th of August, and with
loud cries demanded speedy justice. On the 31st, Montmorin the late
minister, was acquitted by the tribunal of the 17th of August, and reports
were spread that there was treachery everywhere, and that impunity was
insured to the guilty. On the same day, it was alleged that a condemned
person had made some revelations, the purport of which was that in the night
the prisoners were to break out of the dungeons, to arm and disperse them-
selves through the city, to wreak horrible vengeance upon it, and then to
carry off the King, and throw open Paris to the Prussians. The prisoners
who were thus accused were meanwhile trembling for their lives ; their rela-
tives were in deep consternation ; and the royal family expected nothing but
death in the tower of the Temple.
At the Jacobins, in the sections, in the council of the commune, in tho
minority of the Assembly were great numbers of persons who believed these
pretended plots, and dared to declare it lawful to exterminate the prisoners.
Assuredly nature does not form so many monsters for a single day, and it is
party-spirit alone that leads astray so many men at once ! Sad lesson for
nations ! People believe in dangers ; they persuade themselves that they
ought to repel them ; they repeat this ; they work themselves up into a
frenzy ; and, while some proclaim with levity that a blow must be struck,,
others strike with sanguinary audacity.
• " Maillard, a runner belonging to the Chatelet at Paris, began, from the opening of tho
Stales-general, to signalize himaclf in all the tumults of the metropolis. In September, 1792,
he presided in the meeting at the Abbaye to regulate the massacre of the prisoners ; and it
has been said that he seized on the spoils of those who were murdered by his order. He
afterwards became one of the denunciators of the prisons, and, during the Reign of Terror,
appeared several times at La Force, to mark the victims who were to be condemned by the
revolutionary tribunal." — Biographic Modcrne. E.
vol. i. — 45 2 o 2
354 HISTORY OF THE
On Saturday, the 1st of September, the forty-eight hours fixed for the
closing of the barriers and the execution of the domiciliary visits having
elapsed, the communications were re-established. But, in the course of the
day, all at once a rumour of the taking of Verdun was circulated. Verdun,
however, was only invested ; still it was believed that the place was cap-
tured, and that a fresh treachery had delivered it up like the fortress of
Longwy. Under the influence of Danton, the commune immediately re-
solved that, on the following day, September the 2d, the generate should be
beaten, the tocsin rung, and alarm-guns fired, and that all the disposable
citizens should repair armed to the Champ de Mars, encamp there for the
remainder of the day, and set out on the next for Verdun. From these terri-
ble preparations it became evident that something very different from a levy
en masse was contemplated. Relatives hastened to make efforts to obtain
the enlargement of the prisoners. Manuel, the procureur syndic, at the
solicitation of a generous woman liberated, it is said, two female prisoners
of the family of Latremouille. Another lady, Madame Fausse-Lendry, im-
portunately solicited permission to accompany her uncle, the Abbe de Ras-
tignac, in his captivity. " You are very imprudent," replied Sergent; " the
prisons are not safe." %
Next day, the 2d of September, was Sunday, and the suspension of labour
increased the popular tumult. Numerous assemblages were formed in dif-
ferent places, and a report was spread that the enemy was likely to be at
Paris in three days. The commune informed the Assembly of the measures
which it had taken for the levy en masse of the citizens. Vergniaud, fired
with patriotic enthusiasm, immediately rose, complimented the Parisians on
their courage, and praised them for having converted the zeal for motions
into a more active and useful zeal — the zeal for combat. " It appears,"
added he, " that the plan of the enemy is to march direct to the capital,
leaving the fortress behind him. Let him do so. This course will be our
salvation and his ruin. Our armies, too weak to withstand him, will be strong
enough to harass him in the rear ; and when he arrives, pursued by our bat-
talions, he will find himself face to face with our Parisian army, drawn up in
battle array under the walls of the capital; and there, surrounded on all sides,
he will be swallowed up by that soil which he had profaned. But, amidst
these flattering hopes there is a danger which ought not to be disguised, that
of panic terrors. Our enemies reckon upon them, and distribute gold in order
to produce them ; and well you know it, there are men made up of so soft a
clay as to be decomposed at the idea of the least danger. I wish we could
pick out this species without souls, but with human faces, and collect all the
individuals belonging to it in one town, Longwy, for instance, which should
be called the town of cowards : and there, objects of general contempt, they
would communicate their own fears to their fellow-citizens alone ; they would
no longer cause dwarfs to be mistaken for giants, and the dust flying before
a company of Hulans, for armed battalions.
" Parisians, it is high time to display all your energy ! Why are not the
intrenchments of the camp more advanced ? Where are the pickaxes, the
spaces, which raised the altar of the Federation, and levelled the Champ de
Mars ? You have manifested great ardour for festivities : surely you will
not show less for batUe. You have sung — you have celebrated liberty. You
must now defend it. We have no longer to overthrow kings of bronze, but
living kings, armed with all their power. I move, therefore, that the National
Assembly set the first example, and send twelve commissioners, not to make
exhortations, but to labour themselves, to wield the spade with their own
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 355
hands, in the sight of all the citizens." This suggestion was adopted with
the utmost enthusiasm.
Danton followed Vergniaud. He communicated the measures which had
been taken, and proposed new ones. " One portion of the people," said he,
" is about to proceed to the frontiers, another is going to throw up intrench-
ments, and the third, with pikes, will defend the interior of our cities. But
this is not enough. Commissioners and couriers must be sent forth to all
parts, to induce the whole of France to imitate Paris. A decree must be
passed, which shall make it obligatory on every citizen to serve in person, or
to give up his arms. The gun," added Danton, " which you will presently
hear, is not the alarm-gun ; it is the charge against the enemies of the country.
What need we, in order to conquer— to annihilate them? Courage! again
courage, and nothing but courage!"
The words and gestures of the minister made profound impression on all
present. His motion was adopted. He retired and went to the committee
of surveillance. All the authorities, all the bodies, the Assembly, the com-
mune, the sections, the Jacobins, were sitting. The ministers, who had met
at the hotel of the marine, were waiting for Danton to hold a council. The
whole city was in motion. Profound terror pervaded the prisons. At the
Temple, the royal family, to which any commotion threatened more serious
consequences than to the other prisoners, anxiously inquired the cause of
all this perturbation. The gaolers at the different prisons betrayed alarm.
The keeper of the Abbaye had sent away his wife and children in the morn-
ing. The prisoners' dinner had been served up two hours before the usual
time, and all the knives had been taken away from their napkins. Struck
by these circumstances, they had earnestly inquired the cause of their keep-
ers, who would not give any explanation. At length, at two o'clock, the.
gene rale began to beat, the tocsin rang, and the alarm-gun thundered in the
capital. Troops of citizens repaired to the Champ de Mars. Others sur-
rounded the commune and the Assembly, and filled the public places.
There were at the Hotel de Ville twenty-four priests, who, having been
apprehended on account of their refusal to take the oath, were to be removed
to the hall of the depot to the prisons of the Abbaye. Whether purposely
or accidentally, this moment was chosen for their removal. They were placed
in six hackney-coaches, and escorted by Breton and Marseilles federalists,
they were conveyed, at a slow pace, towards the fauxbourg St. Germain,
along the quays, over the Pont Neuf, and through the Rue Dauphine. They
were surrounded and loaded with abuse. " There," said the federalists,
" are the conspirators, who meant to murder our wives and children while
we were on the frontiers !" These words increased the tumult. The doors
of the coaches were open : the unfortunate persons within strove to shut
them, in order to screen themselves from the ill usage to which they were
exposed ; but, being prevented, they were obliged to endure blows and abuse
with patience.
At length they reached the court of the Abbaye, where an immense crowd
was already collected. That court led to the prisons, and communicated
with the hall in which the committee of the section of the Quatre-Nations
held its meetings. The first coach, on driving up to the door of the hall,
was surrounded by a furious rabble. Maillard was present. The door
opened. The first of the prisoners stepped forward to alight and to enter
the hall, but was immediately pierced by a thousand weapons. The
second threw himself back in the carriage, but was dragged forth by in:1 in
force, and slaughtered like the preceding. The other two shared the same
356
HISTORY OF THE
fate ; and their murderers left the first coach to go to those which followed.
They came up one after another into the fatal court, and the last of the
twenty-four priests,* was despatched amidst the howls of an infuriated
populace.
At this moment Billaud-Varennest arrived, a member of the council of the
commune, and the only one of the organizers of these massacres, who dared
with cruel intrepidity to encounter the sight of them, and constantly to de-
fend them. He came, wearing his scarf. Walking in the blood, and over
the corpses, he addressed the crowd of murderers. " Good people," said
he, " you sacrifice your enemies ; you do your duty." Another voice was
raised after Billaud's. It was that of Maillard. " There is nothing more
to do here," cried he ; " let us go to the Carmelites." His band followed
him, and away they posted all together towards the church of the Carmel-
ites, in which two hundred priests had been confined. They broke into the
church, and butchered the unfortunate priests, who prayed to Heaven, and
embraced each other at the approach of death. They called with loud shout?
for the Archbishop of Aries ;| they sought for, and despatched him with the
stroke of a sword upon the skull. After using their swords, they employed
fire-arms, and discharged volleys into the rooms and the garden, at the tops
of the walls and the trees, where some of the victims sought to escape
their fury.
During the completion of the massacre at the Carmelites, Maillard re-
turned with part of his followers to the Abbaye. Covered with blood and
perspiration, he went in to the committee of the section of the Quatre-Na-
tions, and asked for wine for the brave labourers who were, delivering the
nation from its enemies. The committee shuddered, and granted them
twenty-four quarts.
The wine was poured out in the court at tables surrounded by the corpses
of the persons murdered in the afternoon. After it was drunk, Maillard, of
a sudden pointing to the prison, cried, To the Abbaye! At these words,
his gang followed him and attacked the door. The trembling prisoners hoard
the yells — the signal for their death ! The gaoler and his wife disappeared.
The doors were thrown open. The first of the prisoners who were met
with were seized, dragged forth by the legs, and their bleeding bodies thrown
• With one exception only, the Abbe Sicard, who miraculously escaped.
| " Billaud-Varennes was born at Rochelle, which place he quitted several years before the
Revolution, at the age of twenty -three, from vexation that the people there had hissed a the-
atrical piece of his composition. He then went to Paris, where he got himself admitted a
barrister, and married a natural daughter of M. de Verdun, the only one of the farmers-gene-
ral who was not guillotined. In 1792, he was substitute for the attorney of the commune
of Paris, and became one, of the directors of the September massacres. In 1795, he was
sentenced to banishment to Guiana, where he was looked upon by the people as little better
than a wild beast. His principal occupation, during his exile, was to breeding parrots, llil-
laud Varennca was the author of many dull pamphlets." — Biograpkie Moderne. E.
\ " When the assassins got to the chapel, they called, with loud cries, the Archbishop of
Aries. ' Are you he?' said one of them, addressing this venerable and virtuous prelate. • Yes.
gentlemen, I am.' — ' Ah. wretch,' replied the fellow, 'it is you who caused the blood of the
patriots of Aries to be spilt,' and, with these words, the ruffian aimed a blow of his hanger
at the prelate's forehead. He received it unmoved. A second dreadful gash was given turn
in the face. A third blow brought him to the ground, where he rested on his left hand with-
out uttering a single murmur. While he lay thus, one of the assassins plunged his pike into
his breast with such violence that the iron part stuck there. The rulTian then jumped on the
prelate's palpitating body, trampled upon it, and tore away his watch. Thus fell that amiable
archbishop, just within the chapel, at the foi-t of the altar, and of the cross of our Saviour.'
-Peltier. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 357
into the court. While the first comers were thus indiscriminately slaugh-
tered, Maillard and his band demanded the keys of the different prisons.
One of them, advancing towards the door of the wicket, mounted upon a
stool and harangued the mob. " My friends," said he, " you wish to destroy
the aristocrats, who are the enemies of the people, and who meant to murder
your wives and children while you were at the'frontiers. You are right, no
doubt; but you are good citizens ; you love justice; and you would be very
sorry to steep your hands in innocent blood. "— ." Yes, certainly," cried the
executioners. — " Well, then, let me ask, when you are determined, without
listening to any remonstrance, to rush like furious tigers upon men who are
strangers to you, are you not liable to confound the innocent with the guilty V*
The speaker was interrupted by one of the bystanders, who, armed with a
sword, cried in his turn, ** What ! do you want to lull us to sleep, too ? If
the Prussians and the Austrians were at Paris, would they strive to distin-
guish the guilty ? I have a wife and family, and will not leave them in dan-
ger. Give arms, if you please, to these scoundrels. We will fight them
man to man, and before we set out Paris shall be cleared of them." — " He
is right ; we must go in," said the others, and they rushed forward. They
were stopped, however, and obliged to assent to a kind of trial. It was
agreed that they should take a list of the prisoners, that one of them should
act as president, read the names and the causes of detention, and imme-
diately pronounce sentence on each prisoner. " Maillard ! Let Maillard
be president !" cried out several voices : and forthwith he assumed the office.
This terrible president seated himself at a table, placed before him a list of
the prisoners, called around him a few men, taken at random, to give their
opinions, sent some into the prison to bring out the inmates, and posted
others at the door to consummate the massacre. It was agreed that, in order
to spare scenes of anguish, he should pronounce these words, Sir, to La
Force! when the prisoner should be taken out at the wicket, and, unaware
of the fate which awaited him, be delivered up to the swords of the party
posted there.
The Swiss confined in the Abbaye, and whose officers had been taken to
the Conciergerie, were first brought forward. " It was you," said Maillard,
M who murdered the people on the 10th of August." — " We were attacked,"
replied the unfortunate men, " and we obeyed our officers." — *• At any
rate," replied Maillard, coldly, ** you are only going to be taken to La
Force." But the prisoners, who had caught a glimpse of the swords bran-
dished on the other side of the wicket, were not to be deceived. They were
ordered to go, but halted, and drew back. One of them, more courageous,
asked which way they were to go. The door was opened, and he rushed
headlong amidst the swords and pikes. The others followed, and met.with
the same fate !
The executioners returned to the prison, put all the women into one room,
and brought out more prisoners. Several persons accused of forging assignats
were first sacrificed. After them came the celebrated Montmorin, whose
acquittal had caused so much commotion without obtaining him his liberty.
Led before the blood-stained president, he declared that, being in the hands
of a regular tribunal, he could not recognise any other. •« Well," replied
Maillard, m then you must go to La Force, to await a new trial !" The un-
suspecting ex-minister applied for a carriage. He was told that he would
find one at the door. He also asked for some of his effect*, went to the
do«r, and was instantly put to death.
Thierry, the King's valet-de-charabre was then brought. - Like master,
358 * HISTORY OF THE
like man," said Maillard, and the unfortunate prisoner was slaughtered.*
Next came Buob and Bocquillon, justices of the peace, accused of having
belonged to the secret committee of the Tuileries. They were accordingly-
murdered. Night, meanwhile, was advancing, and every prisoner, hearing
the yells of the assassins, concluded that his last hour was at hand.
What were the constituted authorities, all the assembled bodies, all the
citizens of Paris, about at this moment? In that immense capital, tran-
quillity and tumult, security and terror, may prevail at one and the same
time, so distant is one part of it from another. It was very late before the
Assembly was apprized of the atrocities perpetrating in the prisons ; and,
horror-struck, it had sent deputies to appease the people and to save the vic-
tims. The commune had despatched commissioners to liberate the prisoners
for debt, and to separate what they called the innocent from the guilty.
Lastly, the Jacobins, though met, and informed of what was passing, seemed
to maintain a preconcerted silence. The ministers, assembled at the hotel
of the marine to hold a council, were not yet apprized of what was being
perpetrated, and awaited Danton, who was attending the committee of sur-
veillance. Santerre, the commandant-general, had, so he told the commune,
issued orders, but they were not obeyed, and almost all his men were engaged
in guarding the barriers. It is certain that unrecognised and contradictory
orders were given, and that all the signs of a secret authority, opposed to the
public authority, were manifested. In the court of the Abbaye was a post
of the national guard, which had instructions to suffer people to enter, but
not to go out. Besides, there were posts waiting for orders, and not receiv-
ing any. Had Santerre lost his wits, as on the 10th of August, or was he
implicated in the plot ? While commissioners, publicly sent by the com-
mune, came to recommend tranquillity and to pacify the people, other mem-
bers of the same commune repaired to the committee of the Quatre-Nations,
which was sitting close to the scene of the massacres, and said, " Is all going
on right here as well as at the Carmelites ? The commune sends us to offer
you assistance if you need it."
The efforts of the commissioners sent by the Assembly and by the com-
mune to put a stop to the murders had proved unavailing. They had found
an immense mob surrounding the prison, and looking at the horrid sisrht
with shouts of Vive la nation! Old Busaulx, mounted on a chair, com-
menced an address in favour of mercy, but could not obtain a hearing.
Basire, possessing more tact, had feigned a participation in the resenunent
• " M. Thierry, the King's head valet, after he wai condemned to die, kept crying out,
• God save the King,' even when he had a pike run through his body ; and, as if these words
were blasphemous, the assassins in a rage, burned his face with two torches. — The Count
de St Mart, a knight of the order of St Louis, one of the prisoners, had a spear run through
both his sides. His executioners then forced him to crawl upon his knees, with his body
thus skewered ; and burst out laughing at his convulsive writhings. They at last put an end
to his agony by cutting off his head." — Peltier. E.
" Young Masaubri; had hid himself in a chimney. As he could not be found, the assassins
were resolved to make the gaoler answerable. The latter, accustomed to the tricks of pri-
soners, and knowing that the chimney was well secured at top by bars of iron, fired a gun up
several times. One ball hit Masaubre*, and broke his wrist He had sufficient self-command
to endure the pain in silence. The gaoler then set fire to some straw in the chimney. The
smoke suffocated him ; he tumbled down on the burning straw ; and was dragged out
wounded, burnt, and half dead. On being taken into the street, the executioners determined
to complete his death in the manner in which it had been begun. He remained almost a
quarter of an hour, lying in blood, among heaps of dead bodies, till the assassins could pro-
cure fire-arms. At last they put an end to his tortures by shooting him through the head
five times with pistols." — Peltier. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 359
of the crowd, but they refused to listen to him the moment he endeavoured
to excite sentiments of compassion. Manuel, the procureur of the commune,
tilled with pity, had run the greatest risks without being able to save a single
viiiiai. At this intelligence, the commune, touched more sensibly than it
bad been m first, despatched a second deputation, to pacify the people, and
to emUg&tm thtir munis as to their true interests. This deputation, as
unsuccessful as the first, merely succeeded in setting at liberty a few women
ami debtors.
The massacre continued throughout that horrid night ! The murderers
muvi eded each other at the tribunal and at the wicket, and became by turns
judges and executioners. At the same time they continued to drink, and set
down upon a table their blood-stained glasses. Amidst this carnage, how-
ever, they spared some victims, and manifested inconceivable joy in giving
them their lives. A young man, claimed by a section and declared pure from
aristocracy, was acquitted with shouts of live la nation! and borne in tri-
umph in the bloody arms of the executioners. The venerable Sombreuil,
governor of the Invalides, was brought forward in his turn, and sentenced to
be transferred to La Force. His daughter perceived him from the prison,
rushed out among pikes and swords, clasped her father in her arms, clung
to him with such tenacity, besought his murderers with such a flood of tears
and in such piteous accents, that even their fury was suspended. Then, as
if to subject that sensibility which overpowered them to a fresh trial,
" Drink," said they to this dutiful daughter, "drink the blood of the aristo-
crats !" and they handed to her a pot full of blood. She drank — and her
father was saved ! The daughter of Cazotte also instinctively clasped her
father in her arms. She, too, implored for mercy, and proved as irresistible
as the generous Sombreuil ; but, more fortunate than the latter, she saved
her father's life without having any horrible condition imposed upon her
affection.* Tears trickled from the eyes of the murderers, and yet, in a
moment after, away they went in quest of fresh victims.
One of them returned to the prison to lead forth other prisoners to death.
He was told that the wretches whom he came to slaughter had been kept
without water for twenty-two hours, and he resolved to go and kill the
gaoler. Another felt compassion for a prisoner whom he was taking to the
wicket, because he heard him speak the dialect of his own country. " Why
art thou here ?" said he to M. Journiac de St. Meard. " If thou art not a
traitor, the president, who is not a fool, will do thee justice. Do not trem-
ble, and answer boldly." M. Journiac was brought before Maillard, who
looked at the list. " Ah !" said Maillard, " it is you, M. Journiac, who wrote
in the Journal de la Cour et de la Ville" — " No," replied the prisoner, " it is a
calumny. I never wrote in that paper." — "Beware of attempting to de-
ceive us," rejoined Maillard, "for any falsehood here is punished with death.
Have you not recently absented yourself to go to the army of the emi-
grants ?" — "That is another calumny. I have a certificate attesting that for
twenty-three months past I have not left Paris." — " Whose is that certifi-
• u After thirty hours of carnage, sentence was passed on Cazotte. The instrument of
death was already uplifted. The bloody hands were stretched out to pierce his aged breast.
His daughter flung herself on the old man's neck, and presenting her bosom to the swords
of the assassins exclaimed, ' You shall not get at my father till you have forced your way
through my heart' The pikes were instantly checked in their murderous career; a shout
of pardon is heard ; and is repeated by a thousand voices. Elizabeth, whose beauty was
heightened by her agitation, embraces the murderers : and covered with human blood, but
triumphant, she proceeds to lodge her father safe in the midst of his family — Peltier. E.
360
HISTORY OF THE
cate ? Is the signature authentic ?" Fortunately for M. de Journiac, there
happened to be among the sanguinary crew a man to whom the signer of the
certificate was personally known. The signature was accordingly verified and
declared to be genuine. " You see then," resumed M. de Journiac, " I have
been slandered." — "If the slanderer were here," replied Maillard, "he
should suffer condign punishment. But tell me, was there no motive for
your confinement?" — " Yes," answered M. de Journiac, " I was known to
be an aristocrat." — " An aristocrat !" — " Yes, an aristocrat : but you are not
here to sit in judgment on opinions. It is conduct only that you have to try.
Mine is irreproachable ; I have never conspired ; my soldiers in the regiment
which I commanded adored me, and they begged at Nancy to go and take
Malseigne." Struck with his firmness, the judges looked "at one another,
and Maillard gave the signal of mercy. Shouts of live la nation! instantly
arose on all sides. The prisoner was embraced. Two men laid hold of
him, and, covering him with their arms, led him safely through the threaten-
ing array of pikes and swords. M. de Journiac offered them money, but
they refused it, and only asked permission to embrace him.* Another pri-
soner, saved in like manner, was escorted home with the same attention.
The executioners, dripping with blood, begged leave to witness the joy of
his family, and immediately afterwards returned to the carnage. In this
convulsive state, all the emotions succeeded each other in the heart of man.
By turns a mild and a ferocious animal, he weeps and then slaughters.
Steeped in blood, he is all at once touched by an instance of ardent affection
or of noble firmness. He is sensible to the honour of appearing just, to the
vanity of appearing upright or disinterested. If, in these deplorable days of
September, some of those savages were seen turning at once robbers and
murderers, others were seen coming to deposit on the bureau of the com-
mittee of the Abbaye the blood-stained jewels found upon the prisoners.
During this terrific night, the band had divided and carried destruction into
the other prisons of Paris. At the Chatelet, La Force, the Conciergerie,
* "At half-past two o'clock on Sunday, Sept. 2, we prisoners saw three carriages pass by
attended by a crowd of frantic men and women. They went on to the Abbey cloister, which
had been converted into a prison for the clergy. In a moment after, we heard that the mob
had just butchered all the ecclesiastics, who, they said, had been put into the fold there.—
Near four o'clock. The piercing cries of a man whom they were hacking into pieces with
hangers, drew us to the turret-window of our prison, whence we saw a mangled corpse on
the ground opposite to the door. Another was butchered in the same manner a moment
afterwards. — Near seven o'clock. We saw two men enter our cell with drawn swords in
their bloody hands. A turnkey showed the way with a flambeau, and pointed out to them
the bed of the unfortunate Swiss soldier. Reding. At this frightful moment, I was clasping
his hand, and endeavouring to console him. One of the assassins was going to lift him up,
but the poor Swiss slopped him, by saying, in a dying tone of voice, ' I am not afraid of
death ; pray, sir, let me be killed here.' He was, however, borne away on the men's shoulders,
carried into the street, and there murdered. — Ten o'clock, Monday morning. The most
important matter that now employed our thoughts, was to consider what posture we should
put ourselves in, when dragged to the place of slaughter, in order to receive death with the
least pain. We sent, from time to time, some of our companions to the turret-window, to
inform us of the attitude of the victims. They brought us back word, that those who stretched
out their hands, suffered the longest, because the blows of the cutlasses were thereby weakened
before they reached the head ; that even some of the victims lost their hands and arms, before
their bodies fell ; and that such as put their hands behind their backs, must have suffered
much less pain. We calculated the advantages of this last posture, and advised one another
to adopt it, when it should come to our turn to be butchered. — One o'clock, Tuesday morn-
ing. After enduring inconceivable tortures of mind, I was brought before my judges, pro-
aimed innocent, and set free," — Extracted from a Journal entitled "My Thirty-eight
rs' Agony," by M. Jourgniae de Saint-Mtard.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 361
the Bernardins, St. Firmin, La Salpetriere, and the Bicetre, the same mas-
sacres had been perpetrated, and streams of blood had rlowed, as at the
Abbaye.* Next morning, Monday, the 3d of September, day threw a light
upon the horrid carnage of the night, and consternation pervaded all Paris.
Uillaud-Varennes again repaired to the Abbaye, where, on the preceding
evettimr, he had encouraged what were called the labourers. He again ad-
dressed them. " My friends," said he, "by taking the lives of villains you
have saved the country. France owes you everlasting gratitude, and the
municipality knows not how to remunerate you. It offers you twenty-four
livres apiece, and you shall be paid immediately." These words were
received with applause, and those to whom they were addressed then fol-
lowed Billaud-Varennes to the committee to receive the pay that was pro-
mised them. "Where do you imagine," said the president to Billaud,
"that we are to find funds for paying?" Billaud then pronounced a fresh
eulogy on the massacres, and told the president that the minister of the in-
terior must have money for that purpose. Messengers were sent to Roland,
who, on rising, had just received intelligence of the crimes of the night, and
who refused the demand with indignation. Returning to the committee, the
murderers demanded, upon pain of death, the wages of their horrid labour,
and every member was obliged to empty his pockets to satisfy them.t The
commune undertook to pay the remainder of the debt, and there may still be
seen, in the statement of its expenses, the entries of several sums paid to the
executioners of September. There, too, may be seen, at the date of Sep-
tember the 4th, the sum of one thousand four hundred and sixty-three livres
charged to the same account. .
The report of all these horrors had spread throughout Paris, and produced
the greatest consternation. The Jacobins continued to observe silence.
Some symptoms of compassion were shown at the commune ; but its mem-
bers did not fail to add that the people had been just; that they had punished
criminals only ; and that, in their vengeance, if they had done wrong, it was
merely by anticipating the sword of the law. The general council had again
sent commissioners " to allay the agitation, and to bring back to right princi-
ples those who had been misled." Such were the expressions of the public
authorities ! People were everywhere to be found, who, whilst pitying the
sufferings of the unfortunate victims, added, " If they had been allowed to
live, they would have murdered us in a few days." " If," said others, " we
are conquered and massacred by the Prussians, they will at least have fallen
* " The populace in the court of the Abbaye, complained that the foremost only got a stroke
at the prisoners, and that they were deprived of the pleasure of murdering the aristocrats. It
was in consequence agreed that those in advance should only strike with the backs of their
sabres, and that the wretched victims should be made to run the gauntlet through a long
avenue of murderers, each of whom should have the satisfaction of striking them before they
expired. The women in the adjoining quarter made a formal demand to the commune for
lights to see the massacres, and a lamp was in consequence placed near the spot where the
victims issued, amid the shouts of the spectators. Benches, under the charge of sentinels,
were next arranged, some " Pour les Messieurs," and others " Pour les Dames," to witness
the spectacle!" — Alison.
J" The assassins were not slow in claiming their promised reward. Stained with blood,
bespattered with brains, with their swords and bayonets in their hands, they soon
thronged the doors of the committee of the municipality, who were at a loss for funds to dis-
charge their claims. "Do you think I have only twenty-four francs?' said a young baker
armed with a massive weapon ; ' why, I have slain forty with my own hands!' At midnight
the mob returned, threatening instant death to the whole committee if they were not forthwith
paid." — Alison. E.
vol. i. — 46 2 H
362 HISTORY OF THE
before us." Such are the frightful consequences of the fear which parties
produce in each other, and of the hatred engendered by that fear !
The Assembly, amidst these atrocious outrages, was painfully affected.
Decree after decree was issued, demanding from the commune an account of
the state of Paris ; and the commune replied that it was doing all that l;iy in
its power to restore order and the laws. Still the Assembly, composed of
those Girondius, who proceeded so courageously against the murderers of
September, and died so nobly for having attacked them — the Assembly did
not conceive the idea of repairing in a body to the prisons, and placing itself
between the butchers and the victims. If that generous idea did not occur
to draw them from their seats and to transfer them to the theatre of the car-
nage, this must be attributed to surprise, to the feeling of impotence, perhaps
also to that lukewarmness occasioned by danger from an enemy, and lastly,
to that disastrous notion shared by some of the deputies, that the victims
were so many conspirators, at whose hands death might have been expected,
had it not been inflicted on themselves.
One individual displayed on this day a generous character, and exclaimed
with noble energy against the murderers. During their reign of three days,
he remonstrated on the second. On Monday morning, the moment he was
informed of the crimes of the night, he wrote to Petion, the mayor, who as
yet knew nothing of them : he wrote to Santerre, who did not act ; and ad-
dressed to both the most urgent requisitions. He also sent at the moment a
letter to the Assembly, which was received with applause This excellent
man, so unworthily calumniated by the parties, was Roland. In his letter
he inveighed against all sorts of disorders, against the usurpations of the
commune, against the fury of the populace, and said nobly that he was ready
to die at the post which the law had assigned to him. If, however, the
reader wishes to form an idea of the exciting disposition of minds, of the
fury which prevailed against those who were denominated traitors, and of
the caution with which it was necessary to speak of outrageous passions,
some notion of them may be conceived from the following passage. As-
suredly there can be no question of the courage of the man who alone and
publicly held all the authorities responsible for the massacres ; and yet
observe in what manner he was obliged to express himself on the subject:
" Yesterday was a day over the events of which we ought perhaps to
throw a veil. I know that the people, terrible in their vengeance, exercise
a sort of justice in it ; they do not take for their victims all whom they en-
counter in their fury ; they direct it against those whom they consider as
having been too long spared by the sword of the law, and whom the danger
of circumstances persuades them that it is expedient to sacrifice without de-
lay. But I know, too, that it is easy for villains, for traitors, to abuse this
excitement, and that it ought to be stopped. I know that we owe to all
France the declaration that the executive power could neither foresee nor
prevent these excesses. I know that it is the duty of the constituted authori-
ties to put an end to them, or to regard themselves as annihdated. I know,
moreover, that this declaration exposes me to the rage of certain agitators.
Let them take my life. I am not anxious to preserve it, unless for the sake
of liberty and equality. If these be violated or destroyed, either by the rule
of foreign despots or by the excesses of a misled people, I shall have lived
bmg enough ; but till my latest breath I shall have done my duty. Thi>
is the only good which I covet, and of which no power on earth car
deprive me."
The Assembly received this letter with applause, and on the motion of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 363
Lamourette, ordered the commune to give an account of the state of Paris.
The commune again replied that tranquillity was restored. On seeing the
courage of the minister of the interior, Marat and his committee were exas-
perated, and dared to issue an order for his apprehension. Such was their
blind fury, that they had the hardihood to attack a minister and a man, who,
at the moment, still possessed all his popularity. At this news, Dan ton
vehemendy inveighed against those members of the committee, whom he
called madmen. Though daily thwarted by the inflexibility of Roland, he
was far from harbouring animosity against him. Besides, he dreaded, in
his terrible policy, all that he deemed useless, and he regarded it as extrava-
gant to seize the minister of state in the midst of his functions. He repaired
to the residence of the mayor, hastened Jp the committee, and launched out
indignandy against Marat. Means were nevertheless found to appease him,
and to reconcile him with Marat. The order for Roland's apprehension was
delivered to him, and he went immediately and showed it to Petion, to whom
he related what he had done. " See," said he, " what those madmen are
capable of! — but I shall know how to bring them to reason."—" You have
done wrong," coolly replied Petion ; " this act could not have harmed any
but its authors."
Petion, on his part, though colder than Roland, had displayed not less
courage. He had written to Santerre, who, either from impotence, or from
being implicated in the plot, replied that his heart was rent, but that he could
not enforce the execution of his orders. He had afterwards repaired in per-
son to the different theatres of carnage. At La Force he had dragged from
their bloody seat two municipal officers in scarfs, who were acting in the
same capacity as Maillard had done at the Abbaye. But no sooner was he
gone, to proceed to some other place, than the municipal officers returned,
and continued their executions. Petion, whose presence was everywhere
inefficacious, returned to Roland, who was taken ill in consequence of the
deep impression that had been made upon him. The only place preserved
from attack was the Temple, against the inmates of which the popular fury
was particularly excited. Here, however, the armed force had been more
fortunate ; and a tricoloured ribbon, extended between the walls and the
populace, had sufficed to keep it off and to save the royal family.'*
The monsters who had been spilling blood ever since Sunday, had con-
tracted an appetite for it, and a habit which they could not immediately lay
aside. They had even established a sort of regularity in their executions.
They suspended them for the purpose of removing the corpses, and taking
their meals. Women, carrying refreshments, even repaired to the prisons,
to take dinner to their husbands, who, they said, were at work at the
Abbaye !
At La Force, the Bicetre, and the Abbaye, the massacres were continued
longer than elsewhere. It was at La Force, that the unfortunate Princess
de Lamballe was confined. She had been celebrated at court for her beauty,
and her intimacy with the Queen. She was led dying to the terrible wicket.
" Who are you ?" asked the executioners in scarfs. " Louisa of Savoy,
Princess de Lamballe." — "What part do you act at court? Are you ac-
quainted with the plots of the palace ?" — " I was never acquainted with any
• " One of the commissioners told me that the mob had attempted to rush in, and to carry
into the Tower the body of the Princess de Lamballe, naked and bloody as it had been
dragged from the prison De la Force to the Temple ; but that some municipal officers had
hung a tricoloured ribbon across the principal gate aa a bar against them ; and that for six
hours It was very doubtful whether the royal family would be massacred or not." — CUry. E.
364 HISTORY OF THE
plot." — " Swear to love liberty and equality ; swear to hate the King, the
Queen, and royalty." — " I will take the first oath ; the second I cannot
take ; it is not in my heart." — " Swear, however," said one of the bystand-
ers, who wished to save her. But the unfortunate lady could no longer
either see or hear. " Let Madame be set at liberty " said the chief of the
wicket. Here, as at the Abbaye, a particular word had been adopted as the
signal of death. The princess was led away, not as some writers assert, to
be put to death, but for the purpose of being actually liberated. At the door,
however, she was received by wretches eager after carnage. At the first
stroke of a sabre on the back of her head, the blood gushed forth. She still
advanced, supported by two men, who perhaps meant to save her : but a
few paces further, she fell from the effect of a second blow. Her beautiful
form was torn in pieces.* It was even mangled and mutilated by the mur-
* " The Princess de Lamballe, having been spared on the night of the second, flung her-
self on her bed, oppressed with every species of anxiety and horror. She closed her eyes, but
only to open them in an instant, startled with frightful dreams. About eight o'clock next
morning, two national guards entered her room, to inform her that she was going to be re-
moved to the Abbaye. She slipped on her gown, and went down stairs into the sessions-
room. When she entered this frightful court, the sight of weapons stained with blood, and
of executioners whose hands, faces, and clothes were smeared over with the same red dye,
gave her such a shock that she fainted several times. At length she was subjected to a mock
examination, after which, just as she was stepping across the threshold of the door, she re-
ceived on the back of her head a blow with a hanger, which made the blood spout Two
men then laid fast hold of her, and obliged her to walk over dead bodies, while she was faint-
ing every instant They then completed her murder by running her through with their
spears on a heap of corpses. She was afterwards stripped, and her naked body exposed to
the insults of the populace. In this state it remained more than two hours. When any blood
gushing from its wounds stained the skin, some men, placed there for the purpose, imme-
diately washed it off, to make the spectators take more particular notice of its whiteness. I
must not venture to describe the excesses of barbarity and lustful indecency with which this
corpse was defiled. I shall only say that a cannon was charged with one of the legs ! To-
wards noon, the murderers determined to cut off her head, and carry it in triumph round
Paris. Her other scattered limbs were also given to troops of cannibals who trailed them
along the streets. The pike that supported the head was planted under the very windows of
the Duke of Orleans. He was sitting down to dinner at the time, but rose from his chair,
and gazed at the ghastly spectacle without discovering the least symptom of uneasiness, ter-
ror or satisfaction." — Peltier. E.
" One day when my brother came to pay us a visit, he perceived, as he came along, groups
of people whose sanguinary drunkenness was horrible. Many were naked to the waist and
their arms and breasts were covered with blood. Their countenances were inflamed, and
their eyes haggard ; in short, they looked hideous. My brother, in his uneasiness about us,
determined to come to us at all risks, and drove rapidly along the Boulevard, until he arrived
opposite the house of Beaumarchais. There he was stopped by an immense mob, composed
also of half-naked people, besmeared with blood, and who had the appearance of demons.
They vociferated, sang, and danced. It was the Saturnalia of Hell ! On perceiving Albert's
cabriolet, they cried out, ' Let it be taken to him ; he is an aristocrat' In a moment, the
cabriolet was surrounded by the multitude, and from the middle of the crowd an object seemed
to arise and approach. My brother's troubled sight did not at first enable him to perceive long
auburn tresses clotted with blood, and a countenance still lovely. The object came nearer and
nearer, and rested upon his face. My unhappy brother uttered a piercing cry. He had recog-
nised the head of the Princess de Lamballe !" — Duchess cTAbrantes. E.
" It is sometimes not uninstructive to follow the career of the wretches who perpetrate such
crimes to their latter end. In a remote situation on the sea-coast lived a middle-aged man,
it- a solitary cottage, unattended by any human being. The police had strict orders from the
First Consul to watch him with peculiar care. He died of suffocation produced by an acci-
dent which had befallen him when eating, uttering the most horrid blasphemies, and in the
midst of frightful tortures. He had been the principal actor in the murder of the Princess de
Lamballe." — Duchess cTAbrantes. E.
" Madame de Lamballe's sincere attachment to the Queen was her only crime. In the midst
I
\TT.TLW. 0
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 365
derers, who divided the fragments among them. Her head, her heart, and
other parts of her body, were borne through Paris on the point of pikes !
" We must," said the wretches, in their atrocious language, " carry them to
the foot of the throne." They ran to the Temple, and with shouts awoke
the unfortunate prisoners. They inquired in alarm what was the matter.
The municipal officers wished to prevent them from seeing the horrible crew
under their window, and the bloody head uplifted on the point of a pike. At
length one of the national guards said to the Queen, " It is the head of
LuntaBe which they are anxious to keep you from seeing." At these
words, the Queen fainted. Madame Elizabeth, the King, and Clery, the
valet-de-chambre, carried away the unfortunate princess, and for a considera-
ble time afterwards, the shouts of the ferocious rabble rang around the walls
of the Temple.
The whole day of the 3d, and the succeeding night continued to be sullied
by these massacres. At the Bicdtre, the carnage was longer and more terri-
ble than anywhere else.* There some thousands of prisoners were confined,
as everybody knows, for all sorts of misdemeanors. They were attacked,
endeavoured to defend themselves, and cannon were employed to reduce
them. A member of the general council of the commune even had the
audacity to apply for a force to reduce the prisoners, who were defending
themselves. He was not listened to. Petion repaired again to the Bicetre,
but to no purpose. The thirst for blood urged on the multitude. The fury
of fighting and murdering had superseded political fanaticism, and it killed
for the sake of killing. There the massacre lasted till Thursday, the 5th
of September.t
of our commotions she had played no part ; nothing could render her suspected by the people,
to whom she was only known by repeated acts of beneficence. When summoned to the bar
of La Force, many among the crowd besought pardon for her, and the assassins for a mo-
ment stood doubtful, but soon murdered her. Immediately they cut off her head and her
breasts; her body was opened, her heart torn out; and the tigers who had so mangled her,
took a barbarous pleasure in going to show her head and heart to Louis XVI. and his family,
at the Temple. Madame de Lamballe was beautiful, gentle, obliging, and moderate." —
Merrier. E.
•* Marie Therese Louise de Savoie Carignan Lamballe, widow of Louis Alexander Joseph
Stanislas de Bourbon Penthiere, Prince de Lamballe, was born in September, 1 749, and was
mistress of the household to the Queen of France, to whom she was united by bonds of the
tenderest affection.'" — Biographie Moderne. E.
* ■ The Bicetre Hospital was the scene of the longest and the most bloody carnage. This
prison might be called the haunt or receptacle of every vice; it was an hospital also for the
cure of the foulest and most afflicting diseases. It was the sink of Paris. Every creature
there was put to death. It is impossible to calculate the number of victims, but I have heard
them calculated at six thousand. The work of death never ceased for an instant during eight
days and nights. Pikes, swords, and guns, not being sufficient for the ferocity of the mur-
derers, they were obliged to have recourse to cannon. Then, for the first time, were prisoners
seen fighting for their dungeons and their chains. They made a long and deadly resistance,
but were all eventually assassinated." — Peltier. E.
j- Subjoined are some valuable details respecting the days of September, which exhibit
those horrid scenes under their genuine axpecL It was at the Jacobins that the most im-
portant disclosures were made, in consequence of the disputes which had arisen in the Con-
vention :
Sitting of Monday, October 29, 1792. "
" Chabot. — This morning Louvet made an assertion, which it is essential to contradict*
He told us that it was not the men of the 10th of August who were Uie authors of the 2d of
September, and I, as an eyewitness, can tell you that it was the very same men. He told
ui that there were not more than two hundred persons acting, and I will tell you that I passed
under a steel arch of trn thousand swords. For the truth of this I appeal to Bazire, Colon,
2 H 2
366 HISTORY OF THE
At length almost all the victims had perished ; the prisons were tir.pty.
The infuriated wretches still demanded blood, but the dark directors of so
and the other deputies who were with me : from the Cour des Moines to the prison of the
Abbaye, people were obliged to squeeze one another to make a passage for us. I recognised
for my part one hundred and fifty federalists. It is impossible that Louvet and his adherents
should not have been present at these popular executions. Yet a man who can coolly deliver
a speech such as Louvet' s, cannot have much humanity. At any rate, I know that, since
that speech, I would not lie down by him for fear of being assassinated. I summon Petion
to declare if it be true that there were not more than two hundred men at that execution ;
but it was to be expected that intriguers would fall foul of that day, respecting which all France
is not yet enlightened. .... They want to destroy the patriots in detail. They want de-
crees of accusation against Robespierre, Marat, Danton, and Santerre. They will soon
attack Bazire, Merlin, Chabot, Montaut, and even Grangeneuve, if he had not reconciled
himself with them ; they will then propose a decree against the whole fauxbourg St. Antoine,
and against the forty-eight sections, and there will be eight hundred thousand of us decreed
under accusation : but let them beware of miscalculating their strength, since they demand
the ostracism."
Sitting of Monday, November 5.
" Fabre d'Eglantine made some observations on the events of the 2d of September. He
declared that it was the men of the 10th of August who broke into the prisons of the Abbaye,
of Orleans, and of Versailles. He said that in these moments of crisis he had seen the same
men come to Danton's, and express their satisfaction by rubbing their hands together : that
one of them even desired that Morande might be sacrificed : he added, that he bad seen in
the garden of the minister for foreign affairs, Roland, the minister, pale, dejected, with his
head leaning against a tree, demanding the removal of the Convention to Tours or Blois.
The speaker added that Danton alone displayed the greatest energy of character on that day ;
that Danton never despaired of the salvation of the country ; that by stamping upon the
ground he made ten thousand defenders start from it ; and that he had sufficient moderation
not to make a bad use of the species of dictatorship with which the National Assembly had
invested him, by decreeing that those who should counteract the ministerial operations should
be punished with death. Fabre then declared that he had received a letter from Madame
Roland, in which the wife of the minister of the interior begged him to lend a hand to an
expedient devised for the purpose of carrying some decrees in the Convention. The speaker
proposed that the society should pass a resolution for drawing up an address comprehending
all the historical details of the events which had occurred from the acquittal of Lafayette to
that day."
" Chabot. — These are facts which it is of importance to know. On the 10th of August,
the people, in their insurrection, designed to sacrifice the Swiss. At that time, the Brissotins
did not consider themselves as the men of the 10th of August, for they came to implore us
to take pity on them — such was the very expression of Lasource. On that day I was a god,
I saved one hundred and fifty Swiss. Single-handed, I stopped at the door of the Feuillans
the people eager to penetrate into the hall for the purpose of sacrificing those unfortunate
Swiss to their vengeance. The Brissotins were then apprehensive lest the massacre should
extend to them. After what I had done on the 10th of August, I expected that, on the M
of September, I should be deputed to the people. Well, the extraordinary commission under
the presidency of the supreme Brissot did not choose me. Whom did it choose ? Dussaulx,
with whom, it is true, Bazire was associated. At the same time, it was well known what
men were qualified to influence the people, and to stop the effusion of blood. The deputa-
t ion was passing me ; Bazire begged me to join it, and took me along with him Had
Dussaulx private instructions? I know not; but this I know, that he would not allow any
one to speak. Amidst an assemblage often thousand men, among whom were one hundred
and fifty Marseillais, Dussaulx mounted a chair; he was extremely awkward: he had to
address men armed with daggers. When he at length obtained silence, I said hastily to him,
' If you manage well, you will put a stop to the effusion of blood : tell the Parisians that it
is to the interest that the massacres should cease, that the departments may not be alarmed
for the saiety of the National Convention, which is about to assemble at Paris.' Dussaulx
heard me ; but, whether from insincerity or the pride of age, he would not do what I tol d
him; and this is that M. Dussaulx who is proclaimed the only worthy man in the deputation
of Paris ! A second fact not less essential is, that the massacre of the prisoners of Orleans
was not committed by the Parisians. This massacre ought to appear much more odious,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 367
many murders began themselves to be accessible to pity. The expressions
of the commune assumed a milder tone. Deeply moved, it is said, by the
rigour exercised against the prisoners, it issued fresh orders for stopping
thrm ; :uul this time it was better obeyed. There were, however, but very
few unhappv individuals left to benefit by its pity ! All the reports of the
tinn differ in their estimate of the number of the victims. That estimate
varies from six to twelve thousand in the prisons of Paris.*
Hut if the executions spread consternation, the audacity which could avow
and recommend the imitation of them, excited not less surprise than the exe-
cutions themselves. The committee of surveillance dared to address a
circular to all the communes of France, which history ought to preserve,
together with the names of the seven persons who did not hesitate to sign it.
From this document the reader may form some conception of the fanaticism
produced by the public danger.
"Paris, September 2, 1792.
" Brethren and friends,
"A horrid plot, hatched by the court, to murder all the patriots of the
French empire, a plot in which a great number of members of the National
because it was farther distant from the 10th of August, and was perpetrated by a smaller
number of men. The intriguers, nevertheless, have not mentioned it ; they have not said a
word about it, and why 1 Because there perished an enemy of Brissot, the minister for fo-
reign affairs, who had ousted his protege, Narbonne If I alone, at the door of the
Feuillans, stopped the people who wanted to sacrifice the Swiss, how much greater is the
probability that the Legislative Assembly might have prevented the effusion of blood ! If,
then, there be any guilt, to the Legislative Assembly it must be imputed, or rather to Brissot,
who was then its leader."
• " Recapitulation of the persons massacred in the different prisons at Paris, from Sunday,
the 2d, till Friday, the 7th of September, 1792:
244 at the Convent of the Carmelites, and Saint Firmin's Seminary;
180 at the Abbey of St. Germain ;
73 at the Cloister of the Bernardins ;
45 at the Hospital of La Salpetriere ;
85 at the Conciergerie ;
214 at the Chatelet;
164 at the Hotel de la Force.
-w- *U
To these should be added the poor creatures who were put to death in the Hospital of Bice-
tre, and in the yards at La Salp6triere ; those who were drowned at the Hotel de la Force ;
and all those who were dragged out of the dungeons of the Conciergerie and the Chdtelet,
to be butchered on the Pont-au-Change, the number of whom it will ever be impossible
wholly to ascertain, but which may, without exaggeration, be computed at eight thousand
individuals !" — Peltier. E.
"The small number of those who perpetrated these murders in the French capital under
the eyes of the legislature is one of the most Instructive facts in the history of revolutions.
The number actually engaged in the massacres did not exceed 300 ; and twice as many more
witnessed and encouraged their proceedings : yet this handful of men governed Paris and
France with a despotism, which 300,000 armed warriors afterwards strove in vain to effect.
The immense majority of the well disposed citizens, divided in opinion, irresolute in conduct,
and dispersed in various quarters, were incapable of arresting the progress of assassination.
It is not less worthy of observation, that these atrocities took place in the heart of a city
where above fifty thousand men were enrolled in the national guard, and had arms in their
hands! When the murders had ceased, the remains of the victims were thrown into
trenches previously prepared by the municipality for their reception. They were subse-
quently conveyed to the catacombs, where they were built up; and still remain the monu-
ment of crimes unfit to be thought of, and which Frauce would gladly bury in oblivion."
— Alison.
368 HISTORY OF THE
Assembly ave implicated, having, on the 9th of last month, reduced the com-
mune of Paris to the cruel necessity of employing the power of the people
to save the nation, it has not neglected anything to deserve well of the coun-
try. After the testimonies which the National Assembly itself had jutt
given, could it have been imagined that fresh plots were hatching in secret,
and that they would break forth at the very moment when the Nationa'
sembly, forgetting its recent declaration that the commune of Paris had saved
the country, was striving to cashier it as a reward for its ardent patriotism ?
At these tidings, the public clamour raised on all sides rendered the National
Assembly sensible of the urgent necessity for joining the people, and restor-
ing to the commune, with reference to the decree of destitution, the power
with which it had invested it.
" Proud of enjoying in the fullest measure the national confidence, which
it will strive to deserve more and more, placed in the focus of all conspira-
cies, and determined to perish for the public welfare, it will not boast of
having done its duty till it shall have obtained your approbation, which is
the object of all its wishes, and of which it will not be certain till all the
departments have sanctioned its measures for the public weal. Professing
the principles of the most perfect equality, aspiring to no other privilege
than that of being the first to mount the breach, it will feel anxious to reduce
itself to the level of the least numerous commune of the empire as soon as
there shall be nothing more to dread.
" Apprized that barbarous hordes are advancing against it, the commune
of Paris hastens to inform its brethren in all the departments that part of the
ferocious conspirators confined in the prisons has been put to death by the
people — acts of justice which appear to it indispensable for repressing by
terror the legions of traitors encompassed by its walls at the moment when
thej^were about to march against the enemy ; and no doubt the nation, after
the long series of treasons which have brought it to the brink of the abyss,
will eagerly adopt this useful and necessary expedient; and all the French
will say, like the Parisians — We are marching against the enemy, and we
will not leave behind us brigands to murder our wives and our children.
" (Signed) Duplain, Panis, Seroent, Lenf ant, Marat, Lefort,
-4 Jourdeml, Administrators of the Committee of Sur-
veillance, constituted at the Maine."
Dumouriez, as we have seen, had already held a council of war at Sedan.
Dillon had there proposed to fall back to Chalons, for the purpose of placing
the Marne in our front, and of defending the passage of that river. The
disorder prevailing among the twenty-three thousand men left to Dumouriez :
their inability to make head against eighty thousand Prussians, perfectly
organized and habituated to war ; the intention attributed to the enemy of
making a rapid invasion without stopping at the fortresses — these were the
reasons which led Dillon to conceive it to be impossible to keep the Prus-
sians in check, and that no time should be lost in retiring before them, in
order to seek stronger positions which might make amends. The council
was so struck by those reasons that it coincided unanimously in Dillon's
opinion, and Dumouriez, to whom, as general-in-chief, the decision belonged,
replied that he would consider it.
This was on the evening of the 28th of August. A resolution was here
taken which saved France. Several persons dispute the honour of it. Kvery-
thing proves that it is due to Dumouriez. The execution, at any rate, ren-
ders it entirely his own, and ought to earn for him all the glory of it.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 3«9
France, as every reader knows, is defended on the east by the Rhine and the
Vosges, on the north by a chain of fortresses created by the genius of Vau-
Imn, :uui by the Meuse, the Moselle, and various streams, which, combined
with the fortified towns, constitute a sum total of obstacles sufficient to pro-
tect that frontier. The enemy had penetrated into France from the north,
and had directed his march between Sedan and Metz, leaving the attack of
the fortresses of the Netherlands to the Duke of Saxe-Teschen, and masking
Metz and Lorraine by a body of troops. Consistently with this plan, he
ought to have marched rapidly, profited by the disorganization of the French,
struck terror into them by decisive blows, and even taken Lafayette's twenty-
three thousand men, before a new general had again given them unity and
confidence. But the struggle between the presumption of the King of j
Prussia and the prudence of Brunswick forbade any resolution, and prevented!
the allies from being either bold or prudent. The reduction of Verdun in-
flamed still more the vanity of Frederick-William and the ardour of the
emigrants, but without giving greater activity to Brunswick, who was far
from approving of the invasion, with the means which he possessed, and
with the disposition of the invaded country. After the capture of Verdun,
on the 2d of September, the allied army spread itself for some days over the
plains bordering the Meuse, and contented itself with occupying Stenay,
without advancing a single step. Dumouriez was at Sedan, and his army
encamped in the environs.
From Sedan to Passavant a forest extends, the name of which ought to be
for ever famous in our annals. This is the forest of Argonne, which covers
a space of from thirteen to fifteen leagues, and which, from the inequalities
of the ground, and the mixture of wood and water, is absolutely impenetrable
to an army, except by some of the principal passes. Through this forest
the enemy must have penetrated, in order to reach Chalons and afterwards
take the road to Paris. With such a plan it is astonishing that he had not
yet thought of occupying the principal passes, and thus have anticipated
Dumouriez, who, from his position at Sedan, was separated from them by
the whole length of the forest. The evening after the council of war, the
French general was considering the map with an officer, in whose talents he
had the greatest confidence. This was Thouvenot. Pointing with his finger
to the Argonne and the tracks by which it is intersected, — " That," said he,
" is the Thermopylae of France. If I can but get thither before the Prussians,
all will be saved."
Thouvenot's genius took fire at this expression, and both fell to work upon
the details of this grand plan. Its advantages were immense. Instead of
retreating, and have nothing but the Marne for the last line of defence, Du-
mouriez would, by its adoption, cause the enemy to lose valuable time, and
oblige him to remain in Champagne, the desolate, muddy, sterile soil of which
could not furnish supplies for an army: neither would he give up to the in-
vaders, as would happen if he retired to Chalons, the Trois-Eveche*s, a rich
and fertile country, where they might winter very comfortably, in case they
should not have forced the Marne. If the enemy, after losing some time
before the forest, attempted to turn it, and directed his course towards Sedan,
he would meet with the fortresses of the Netherlands, and it was not to be
supposed that he could reduce them. If he tried the other extremity of the
forest, he would come upon Metz and the army of the centre. Dumouriez
would then set out in pursuit of him, and, by joining the army of Kellermann,
he might form a mass of fifty thousand men, supported by Metz and several
other fortified towns. At all events, this course would disappoint him of the
vol. I. — 47
370 HISTORY OF THE
object of his march, and cause him to lose this campaign ; for it was already
September, and, at this period, people began at that season to take up winter
quarters. This plan was excellent, but the point was to carry it into execu-
tion ; and the Prussians ranged along the Argonne, while Dumouriez was at
one of its extremities, might have occupied its passes. Thus then the issue
of this grand plan and the fate of France depended on accident and a fault of
the enemy.
The Argonne is intersected by five defiles, called Chene-Populeux, Croix-
aux-Bois, Grand-Prey, La Chalade and Islettes. The most important are
those of Grand-Prey and Islettes ; and unluckily these were the farthest from
Sedan and the nearest to the enemy. Dumouriez resolved to proceed thither
with his whole force. At the same time, he ordered General Dubouquet to
leave the department of the Nord, and to occupy the pass of Chene-Populeux,
which was of great importance, but very near Sedan, and the occupation of
which was less urgent. Two routes presented themselves to Dumouriez for
marching to Grand-Prey and Islettes. One was in the rear of the forest, the
other in front of it, and in face of the enemy. The first, passing in the rear
of the forest, was the safer, but the longer of the two. It would reveal our
designs to the enemy, and give him time to counteract them. The other
was shorter, but this too would betray our intentions, and expose our march
to the attacks of a formidable army. It would in fact oblige the French
general to skirt the woods, and to pass in front of Stenay, where Clairfayt*
was posted with his Austrians. Dumouriez, nevertheless, preferred the latter
route, and conceived the boldest plan. He concluded that, with Austrian
prudence, the general would not fail, on the appearance of the French, to
intrench himself in the excellent camp of Brouenne, and that he might in the
meantime give him the slip and proceed to Grand-Prey and Islettes.
Accordingly, on the 30th, Dillon put himself in motion, and set out with
eight thousand men for Stenay, marching between the Meuse and the forest.
He found Clairfayt occupying both banks of the river, with twenty-fire
thousand Austrians. General Miaczinsky, with fifteen hundred men, attacked
Clairfayt's advanced posts, while Dillon, posted in rear, marched to his sup-
port with his whole division. A brisk firing ensued, and Clairfayt, imme-
diately recrossing the Meuse, marched for Brouenne, as Dumouriez had most
happily foreseen. Meanwhile Dillon boldly proceeded between the Meuse and
the Argonne. Dumouriez followed him closely with the fifteen thousand men
composing his main body, and both advanced towards the posts which were
assigned to them. On the 2d Dumouriez was at BefTu, and he had but ate
march more to make in order to reach Grand-Prey. Dillon was on the same
day at Pierremont, and kept advancing with extreme boldness towards
Islettes. Luckily for him, General Galbaud, sent to reinforce the garrison
of Verdun, had arrived too late and fallen back upon Islettes, whicli he thus
occupied beforehand. Dillon came up on the 4th, with his ten thousand
• " Count de Clairfayt, a Walloon officer, field-marshal in the Austrian service, and knight
of the Golden Fleece, served with great credit in the war with the Turks, and in 1791 was
employed against France. He assisted in taking Longwy in August, and in November lost
the famous battle of Jemappes, In 1793, the Prince of Coburg took the chief command of
the Austrian army, yet its successes were not the less owing to Clairfayt. In 1 794 he con-
tinued to command a body of men, and met Pichegru in West Flanders, with whom he
fought seven important battles before he resigned the victory to him. In 1796 Clairfayt
entered the aulic council of war, and died at Vienna in 1798. Military men consider him
the best general that waa ever opposed to the French during the revolutionary war.*' — Bio-
graphic Modernc E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 371
men, established himself there, and moreover occupied La Chalade, another
secondary pass, which was committed to his charge. Dumouriez, at the
same time, reached Grand-Prey, found the post vacant, and took possession
of it on the 3d. Thus the third and fourth of the passes were occupied by
our troops, and the salvation of France was considerably advanced.
It was by this bold march, which was at least as meritorious as the idea
of occupying the Argonne, that Dumouriez placed himself in a condition to
resist the invasion. But this was not enough. It was necessary to render
those passes inexpugnable, and to this end to make a great number of dispo-
sitions depending on many chances.
Dillon intrenched himsef at the Islettes. He made abattis, threw up ex-
cellent intrenchments, and, skilfully placing the French artillery, which was
numerous and excellent, formed batteries which rendered the pass inacces-
sible. At the same time he occupied La Chalade, and thus made himself
master of the two routes leading to St. Menehould and from St. Menehould
to Chalons. Dumouriez established himself at Grand-Prey in a camp, ren-
dered formidable both by nature and art. The site of this encampment con-
sisted of heights rising in the form of an amphitheatre. At the foot of these
heights lay extensive meadows, before which flowed the Aire, forming the
tite du camp. Two bridges were thrown over the Aire, and two very strong
advanced guards were placed there, with orders to burn them and to retire
in case of attack. The enemy, after dislodging these advanced troops, would
have to effect the passage of the Aire, without the help of bridges and under
the fire of all our artillery. Having passed the river, he would then have to
advance through a basin of meadows crossed by a thousand fires, and lastly
to storm steep and almost inaccessible intrenchments. In case all these ob-
stacles should be overcome, Dumouriez, retreating by the heights which he
occupied, would descend the back of them, find at their foot the Aisne,
another stream which skirted them on that side, cross two bridges which he
would destroy, and thus again place a river between himself and the Prus-
sians. This camp might be considered as impregnable, and there the French
general would be sufficiently secure to turn his attention quietly to the whole
theatre of the war.
On the 7th, General Dubouquet, with six thousand men, occupied the
pass of Chene-Populeux. There was now left only the much less importan*
pass of Croix-aux-Bois, which lay between Chene-Populeux and Grand-Pref/. '
There Dumouriez, having first caused the road to be broken up and trees
felled, posted a colonel with two battalions and two squadrons. Placed thus
in the centre of the forest, and in a camp that was impregnable, he defended
the principal pass with fifteen thousand men. On his right, at the distance
of four leagues, was Dillon, who guarded the Islettes and La Chalade with
eight thousand. On his left Dubouquet, who occupied the Chene-Populeux
with six thousand ; and a colonel with a few companies watched the road
of the Croix-aux-Bois, which was deemed of very inferior importance.
His whole defence being thus arranged, he had time to wait for reinforce-
ments, and he hastened to give orders accordingly. He directed Beurnon-
ville* to quit the frontier of the Netherlands, where the Duke of Saxe-Teschen
* " Pierre Ryel de Beumonville, was born at Champigneul in 1752, and intended for the
church, but was bent on becoming a soldier. He was employed in 1792 as a general under
Dumouriez, who called him his Ajax. During the war he was arrested, and conveyed to the
head-quarters of the Prince of Coburg, but in 1795 he was exchanged for the daughter of
Louis XVI. In 1797 Beumonville was appointed to the commend of the French army in
Holland ; and in the following year, was made inspector-general by the Directory. He was
372 HISTORY OF THE
was not attempting any thing of importance, and to be at Rethel on the 13th
of September, with ten thousand men. He fixed upon Chalons as the depot
fo» provisions and ammunition, and for the rendezvous of the recruits and
reinforcements which had been sent off* to him. He thus collected in his
rear all the means of composing a sufficient resistance. At the same time,
he informed the executive power that he had occupied the Argonne. " Grand-
Prey and the Islettes," he wrote, " are our Thermopylae ; but I shall be
more fortunate than Leonidas." He begged that some regiments might be
detached from the army of the Rhine, which was not threatened, and that
they might be joined to the army of the centre, now under the command of
Kellermann. The intention of the Prussians being evidently to march upon
Paris, because they masked Montmedy and Thionville, without stopping
before them, he proposed that Kellermann should be ordered to skirt their
left, by Ligny and Barle-Duc, and thus take them in flank and rear during
their offensive march. In consequence of all these dispositions, if the Prus-
sians should go higher up without attempting to force the Argonne, Dumou-
riez would be at Revigny before them, and would there find Kellermann
arriving from Metz with the army of the centre. If they descended towards
Sedan, Dumouriez would still follow them, fall in with Beurnonville's ten
thousand men, and wait for Kellermann on the banks of the Aisne ; and, in
both cases, the junction would produce a total of sixty thousand men, capable
of showing themselves in the open field.
The executive power omitted nothing to second Dumouriez in his excel-
lent plans. Servan, the minister at war, though in ill health, attended with-
out intermission to the provisioning of the armies, to the despatching of
necessaries and ammunition, and to the assemblage of the new levies. From
fifteen hundred to two thousand volunteers daily left Paris. A military
enthusiasm seized all classes, and people hurried away in crowds to join the
army. The halls of the patriotic societies, the councils of the commune,
and the Assembly, were incessantly traversed by companies raised sponta-
neously, and marching off for Chalons, the general rendezvous of the volun-
teers. These young soldiers lacked nothing but discipline and familiarity
with the field of battle, in which they were yet deficient, but which they
were likely soon to acquire under an able general.
; The Girondins were personal enemies of Dumouriez, and they had given
hila but little of their confidence ever since he expelled them from the minis-
try. They had even endeavoured to supersede him in the chief command,
by an officer named Grimoard. But they had again rallied round him as
soon as he seemed to be charged with the destinies of the country. Roland,
the best, the most disinterested of them, had written him a touching letter to
assure him that all was forgotten, and that his friends all wished for nothing
more ardently than to have to celebrate his victories.
Dumouriez had thus vigorously seized upon this frontier, and made him-
self the centre of vast movements, till then too tardy and too unconnected.
He had happily occupied the defiles of the Argonne, taken a position which
afforded the armies time to collect and to organize themselves in his rear:
he was bringing together all the corpsjbr the purpose of forming an imposing
mass ; he had placed Kellermann under the necessity of coming to n
one of those who sided with Bonaparte, when the latter brought about a new revolution in
1 799, and afterwards received from him the embassy to Berlin. He waa at a subsequent
period sent as ambassador to Madrid ; and in 1805, was chosen a senator. From the year
1791 to 1793, Beurnonville was present in not less than 172 engagements." — Biographie
Modem.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 373
his orders ; he commanded with vigour, he acted wiUi promptness, he kept up
the spirits of his soldiers by appearing in the midst of them, by testifying
great confidence in them, and by making them wish for a speedy rencounter
with the enemy. .
Such was the state of affairs on the 10th of September. The Prussians
passed along all our posts, skirmished on die front of all our intrenchments,
and were everywhere repulsed. Dumouriez had formed secret communica-
tions in the interior of die forest, by which he sent to the points that were
threatened unexpected reinforcements, which caused the enemy to believe
our army to be twice as strong as it really was. On the 11th, there was a
general attempt upon Grand-Prey ; but General Miranda, posted at ftfor-
taume, and General Stengel at St. Jouvion, repulsed all the attacks with
complete success. On several points, the soldiers, encouraged by their posi-
tion and die attitude of their leaders, leaped over the intrenchments and met
the approaching assadants at the point of the bayonet. These combats occu-
pied the army, which was sometimes in want of provisions, owing to the
disorder inseparable from sudden service. But the cheerfulness of the gene-
ral, who fared no better than his troops, produced universal resignation ; and
though dysentery began to make its appearance, still the camp of Grand-
Prey was tolerably healthy. The superior officers only, who doubted the
possibility of a long resistance, and the ministry, who had no conception of
it either, talked of a retreat behind the Marne, and annoyed Dumouriez with
their suggestions. He wrote energetic letters to the ministers, and imposed
silence on his officers, by telling them that, when he wanted their advice, he
would call a council of war.
It is impossible for a man to escape the disadvantages incident to his
qualities. Thus the extreme promptness of Dumouriez's mind frequendy
hurried him on to act without due reflection. In his ardour to conceive, it
had already happened that he had forgotten to calculate the material obsta-
cles to his plans ; especially when he ordered Lafayette to proceed from
Metz to Givet. Here he committed a capital fault, which, had he possessed
less energy of mind and coolness, might have occasioned the loss of the cam-
paign. Between the Chene Popideux and Grand-Prey, there was, as we
have stated, a secondary pass, which had been deemed of very mferior con-
sequence, and was defended by no more than two battalions and two squad-
rons. Wholly engrossed by concerns of the highest importance, Dumouriez
had not gone to inspect that pass with his own eyes. Having, moreover,
bht few men to post there, he had easily persuaded himself that some hun-
dreds would be sufficient to guard it. To crown the misfortune, the colonel
whom Dumouriez had placed there persuaded him that part of the troops at
that post might be withdrawn, and that, if the roads were broken up, a few
volunteers would suffice to maintain the defensive at that point. Dumouriez
suffered himself to be misled by this colonel, an old officer, whom he deemed
worthy of confidence. ■
Meanwhile, Brunswick had caused our different posts to be examined,
and for a moment he entertained the design of skirting the forest as far as
Sedan, for the purpose of turning it towards that extremity. It appears that,
during this movement, the spies discovered the negligence of die French
general. The Croix-aux-Bois was attacked by the Austrians and the emi-
grants commanded by the Prince de Ligne. The abatus had scarcely been
made, the roads were not broken up, and the pass was occupied without
resistance on the morning of the 13th. No sooner had the unpleasant tidings
reached Dumouriez, than he sent General Chasot, a very brave officer, with
21
374 HISTORY OF THE
two brigades, six squadrons, and four eight pounders, to recover possession
of the pass, and to drive the Austrians from it. He ordered them to be at-
tacked as briskly as possible with the bayonet, before they had time to
intrench themselves. The 13th and J4th passed before General Chasot could
execute the orders which he had received. At length on the 15th, he attacked
with vigour, and repulsed the enemy, who lost the post, and their com-
mander, the Prince de Ligne. But, being attacked two hours afterwards by
a very superior force, before he could intrench himself, he was in his turn
repulsed, and entirely dispossessed of the Croix-aux-Bois. Chasot was,
moreover, cut off from Grand-Prey, and could not retire towards the main
army, which was thus weakened by all the troops that he had with him.
He immediately fell back upon Vouziers. General Dubouquet, command-
ing at the Chene-Populeux, and thus far successful in his resistance, seeing
himself separated from Grand-Prey, conceived that he ought not to run the
risk of being surrounded by the enemy, who, having broken the line at the
Croix-aux-Bois, was about to debouch en masse. He resolved, therefore, to
decamp, and to retreat by Attigny and Somme-Puis, upon Chalons. Thus
the fruit of so many bold combinations and lucky accidents was lost. The
only obstacle that could be opposed to the invasion, the Argonne, was sur-
mounted, and the road to Paris was thrown open.
Dumouriez, separated from Chasot and Dubouquet, was reduced to fifteen
thousand men ; and if the enemy, debouching rapidly by the Croix-aux-
Bois, should turn the position of Grand-Prey, and occupy the passes of the
Aisne, which, as we have said, served for an outlet to the rear of the camp,
the French general would be undone. Having forty thousand Prussians in
front, twenty-five thousand Austrians in his rear, hemmed in with fifteen
thousand men, by sixty-five thousand, by two rivers, and by the forest, he
could do nothing but lay down his arms, or cause his soldiers to the very
last man to be uselessly slaughtered. The only army upon which France
relied, would thus be annihilated, and the allies might take without impedi-
ment the road to the capital.
In this desperate situation, the general was not discouraged, but maintained
an admirable coolness. His first care was to think the very same day of
retreating, for it was his most urgent duty to save himself from the Caudine
forks. He considered that on his right he was in contact with Dillon, who
was yet master of the Islettes and the road to St. Menehould ; that, by retiring
upon the rear of the latter, and placing his back against Dillon's, they should
both face the enemy, the one at the Islettes, the other at St. Menehould, and
thus present a double intrenched front. There they might await the junction
of the two generals Chasot and Dubouquet, detached from the main body,
that of Beurnonville, ordered from Flanders to be at Rethel on the 1 3th ; and
lastly, that of Kellermann, who, having been more than ten days on his march,
could not fail very soon to arrive with his army. This plan was the best
and the most accordant with the system of Dumouriez, which consisted in
not falling back into the interior, towards an open country, but in maintain-
ing his ground in a difficult one, in gaining time there, and in placing himself
in a position to form a junction witl^the army of the centre. If, on the con-
trary, he were to fall back on Chalons, he would be pursued as a fugitive; he
would execute with disadvantage a retreat which he might have made more
beneficially at first; and above all he would render it impossible for KHlrr-
mann to join him. It showed great boldness, after such an accident
befallen him at the Croix-aux-Bois, to persist in his system ; and it required
at the moment as much genius as energy not to give way to the oft-repeated
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 375
advice to retire behind the Marne. But then again, how many lucky acci-
dents does it not require to succeed in a retreat so difficult, so closely watched,
and executed with so small a force in the presence of so powerful an enemy !*
He immediately sent orders to Beurnonville, who was already proceeding
towards Bethel, to Chasot, from whom he had just received favourable
tidings, and to Dubouquet, who had retired to Attigny, to repair all of them
to St. Menchould. At the same time he despatched fresh instructions to
Kellermann to continue his march ; for he was afraid lest Kellermann, on
hearing of the loss of the defiles, should determine to return to Metz. Hav-
ing: made these arrangements, and received a Prussian officer, who demanded
a parley, and shown him the camp in the best order, he directed the tents to
be struck at midnight, and the troops to march in silence towards the two
bridges which served for outlets to the camp of Grand-Prey. Luckily for
him, the enemy had not yet thought of penetrating by the Crois-aux-Bois,
and overwhelming the French positions. The weather was stormy, and
covered the retreat of the French with darkness. They marched all night
on the most execrable roads, and the army, which, fortunately, had not had
time to take alarm, retired without knowing the motive of this change of
position.
By eight in the morning of the next day, the 16th, all the troops had
crossed the Aisne. Dumouriez had escaped, and he halted in order of battle
on the heights of Autry, four leagues from Grand-Prey. He was not pur-
sued, considered himself saved, and was advancing towards Dammartin-sur-
Hans, with the intention of there choosing an encampment for the day, when
suddenly a number of runaways came up shouting that all was lost, and that
the enemy, falling upon our rear, had put the army to the rout. On hearing
this clamour, Dumouriez hastened to the spot, returned to his rear-guard,
and found Miranda, the Peruvian,t and old General Duval, rallying the fugi-
tives, and with great firmness restoring order in the ranks of the army, which
some Prussian hussars had for a moment surprised and broken. The inex-
perience of these young troops, and the fear of treachery which then filled
all minds, rendered panic terrors both very easy and very frequent. All,
however, was retrieved, owing to the efforts of the three generals, Miranda,
Duval, and Stengel, who belonged to the rear-guard. The army bivouacked
at Dammartin, with the hope of soon backing upon the Islettes, and thus
happily terminating this perilous retreat.
Dumouriez had been for twenty hours on horseback. He alighted at six
in the evening, when, all at once, he again heard shouts of Sauve qui pent!
and imprecations against the generals who betrayed the soldiers, and espe-
• " Never was the situation of an army more desperate than at this critical period. France
was within a hair's-breadth of destruction." — Dumouriez'a Memoirs. E.
■j- " Dumouriez says that Miranda was born in Peru ; others, that he was a native of
Mexico. He led a wandering life for some years, traversed the greatest part of Europe, lived
much in England, and was in Russia at the lime of the French Revolution ; which event
opening a career to him, he went to Paris, and there, protected by Petion, soon made his
way. He had good natural and acquired abilities, and was particularly skilful as an engineer.
In 1792 he was sent to command the artillery in Champagne under Dumouriez, whom he
afterwards accompanied into the Low Countries. While there, he intrigued against that
general in the most perfidious manner, and was brought before the revolutionary tribunal, by
whom, however, he was acquitted. In 1803 he was arrested at Paris, on suspicion of form-
ing plots against the consular government, and was sentenced to transportation. The bailie
of Nerwinde, in 1793, was lost entirely by the folly or cowardice of Miranda, who withdrew
almost at the beginning of the action, and abandoned all his artillery." — Biographic
Muderne. E.
376 HISTORY OF THE
cially against the commander-in-chief, who, it was said, had just gone over
to the enemy. The artillery had put horses to the guns and were about to
seek refuge on an eminence. All the troops were confounded. Dumouriez
caused large fires to be kindled, and issued orders for halting on the spot all
night. Thus they passed ten hours more in mud and darkness. More than
fifteen hundred fugitives running off across the country, reported at Paris and
throughout France that the army of the North, the last hope of the country,
was lost and given up to the enemy.
By the following day all was repaired. Dumouriez wrote to the National
Assembly with his usual assurance. " I have been obliged to abandon the
camp of Grand-Prey. The retreat was accomplished, when a panic terror
seized the army. Ten thousand men fled before fifteen hundred Prussian
hussars. The loss amounts to no more than fifty men and some baggage.
All is retrieved, and I make myself responsible for everything."
Nothing less was requisite to dispel the terrors of Paris and of the executive
council, which was about to urge the general afresh to cross the Marne.
St. Menehould, whither Dumouriez was marching, is situated on the
Aisne, one of the two rivers which encompassed the camp of Grand-Prey.
Dumouriez had therefore to march along that river against the stream ; but,
before he reached it, he had to cross three deep rivulets which fall into it, —
Tourbe, the Bionne, and the Auve. Beyond these rivulets was the camp
which he intended to occupy. In front of St. Menehould rises a circular
range of heights, three-quarters of a league in length. At their foot extend
low grounds, in which the Auve forms marshes before it falls into the Aisne.
These low grounds are bordered on the right by the heights of the Hyron,
faced by those of La Lune, and on the left by those of Gisaucourt. In the
centre of the basin are several elevations, but inferior to those of St. Mene-
hould. The hill of Valmi is one, and it is immediately opposite to the hills
of La Lune. The high-road from Chalons to St. Menehould passes through
this basin, almost in a parallel direction to the course of the Auve. It was
at St. Menehould and above this basin that Dumouriez posted himself. He
caused all the important positions around him to be occupied, and, support-
ing his back against Dillon, desired him to maintain his ground against the
enemy. He thus occupied the high-road to Paris upon three points — the
Islettes, St. Menehould, and Chalons.
The Prussians, however, if they advanced by Grand-Prey, might leave
him at St. Menehould and get to Chalons. Dumouriez therefore ordered
Dubouquet, of whose safe arrival at Chalons he had received intelligence, to
place himself with his division in the camp of L'Epine, and there to collect
all the recently-arrived volunteers, in order to protect Chalons from a i >///>-
de-main. He was afterwards joined by Chasot, and, lastly, by Beurnonville.
The latter had come in sight of St. Menehould on the 15th. Seeing an army
in good order, he had supposed that it was the enemy, for he could not sup-
pose that Dumouriez, who was reported to be beaten, had so soon retrieved
the disaster. Under this impression, he had fallen back upon Chalons, and,
having there learned the real state of the case, he had returned, and on the
19th taken up the position of Maffrecourt, on the right of the camp, fie
had brought up these ten thousand' brave fellows, whom Dumouriez had
exercised for a month in the camp of Maulde, amidst a continual war of
posts. Reinforced by Beurnonville and Chasot, Dumouriez could number
thirty-five thousand men. Thus, owing to his firmness and presence of miiul.
he again found himself placed in a very strong position, and enabled to
temporize for a considerable time to come. But if the enemy, getting the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 377
start and leaving him behind, should hasten forward to Chalons, what then
would become of his camp of St. Menehould ? There was ground, therefore,
for the same apprehensions as before, and his precautions in the camp of
L'Epine were far from being capable of preventing such a danger.
Two movements were very slowly operating around him. That of Bruns-
wick, who hesitated in his march, and that of Kellermann, who, having set
out on the 4th from Metz, had not yet arrived at the specified point, though
he had been a fortnight on the road. But if the tardiness of Brunswick was
serviceable to Dumouriez, that of Kellermann compromised him exceedingly.
Kellermann, prudent and irresolute, though very brave, had alternately ad-
vanced and retreated, according to the movements of the Prussian army ;
and again on the 17th, on receiving intelligence of the loss of the defiles, he
had made one march backward. On the evening of the 19th, however, he
had sent word to Dumouriez, that he was no more than two leagues from
St. Menehould. Dumouriez had reserved for him the heights of Gisaucourt,
situated on his left, and commanding the road to Chalons and the stream of
the Auve. He had sent him directions that, in case of a battle, he might
deploy on the secondary heights, and advance upon Valmi, beyond the Auve.
Dumouriez had not time to go and place his colleague himself. Kellermann,
crossing the Auve on the night of the 19th, advanced to Valmi, in the centre
of the basin, and neglected the heights of Gisaucourt, which formed the left
of the camp of St. Menehould, and commanded those of La Lune, upon which
the Prussians were arriving.
At this moment, in fact, the Prussians, debouching by Grand-Prey, had
come in sight of the French army, and ascending the heights of La Lune,
already discovered the ground on the summit of which Dumouriez was sta-
tioned. Relinquishing the intention of a rapid march upon Chalons, they
rejoiced, it is said to find the two French generals together, conceiving that
they could capture both at once. Their object was to make themselves
masters of the road to Chalons, to proceed to Vitry, to force Dillon at the
Islettes, thus to surround St. Menehould on all sides, and to oblige the two
armies to lay down their arms.
On the morning of the 20th, Kellermann, who, instead of occupying the
heights of Gisaucourt, had proceeded to the centre of the basin, to the mill
of Valmi, found himself commanded in front by the heights of La Lune, occu-
pied by the enemy. On one side he had the Hyron, which the French held,
but which they were liable to lose. On the other, Gisaucourt, which he had
not occupied, and where the Prussians were about to establish themselves.
In case he should be beaten, he would be driven into the marshes of the
Auve, situated behind the mill of Valmi, and he might be utterly destroyed,
before he could join Dumouriez, in the bottom of this amphitheatre. He
immediately sent to his colleague for assistance. But the King of Prussia,*
seeing a great bustle in the French army, and conceiving that the generals
designed to proceed to Chalons, resolved immediately to close the road to it,
and gave orders for the attack. On the road to Chalons, the Prussian ad-
vanced guard met that of Kellermann, who was with his main body on the
* " In the course of one of the Prussian marches, the King of Prussia met a young soldier
with his knapsack on his back, and an old musket in his hands. ' Where are you going ! '
asked his majesty. ' To fight,' replied the soldier. ' By that answer,' rejoined the monarch,
' I recognise the noblesse of France.' He saluted him, and passed on. The soldier's name
has since become immortal. It was F. Chateaubriand, then returning from his travels in
North America, to share in the dangers of the throne in his native country." — Chaicaubri-
aruTt Memoirs. E.
vol. I. — 48 2 I 2
378 HISTORY OF THE
hill of Valmi. A brisk action ensued, and the French, who were at first
repulsed, were rallied, and afterwards supported by the carbineers of Gene-
ral Valence. From the heights of La Lune, a cannonade was kept up
against the mill of Valmi, and our artillery warmly returned the fire of the
Prussians.
Kellermann's situation, however, was extremely perilous. His troops
were confusedly crowded together on the hill of Valmi, and too much incom-
moded to fight there. They were cannonaded from the heights of La Lune ;
their left suffered severely from the fire of the Prussians on those of Gisau-
court ; the Hyron, which flanked their right, was actually occupied by the
French, but Clairfayt, attacking this post, with his twenty-five thousand
Austrians, might take it from them. In this case, Kellermann, exposed to
a fire from every side, might be driven from Valmi into the Auve, whilst it
might not be in the power of Dumouriez to assist him. The latter imme-
diately sent General Stengel with a strong division to support the French on
the Hyron, and to protect the right of Valmi. He directed Beumonville
to support Stengel with sixteen battalions, and he sent Chasot with nine
battalions, and eight squadrons, along the Chalons road, to occupy Gisau-
court, and to flank Kellermann's left. But Chasot, on approaching Valmi,
sent to Kellermann for orders, instead of advancing upon Gisaucpurt, and
left the Prussians time to occupy it, and to open a destructive fire from that
point upon us. Kellermann, however, supported on the right and the left,
was enabled to maintain himself at the mill of Valmi. Unluckily a shell,
falling on an ammunition-wagon, caused it to explode, and threw the infantry
into disorder. This was increased by the cannon of La Lune, and the first
line began already to give way. Kellermann, perceiving this movement,
hastened through the ranks, rallied them, and restored confidence. Bruns-
wick conceived this to be a favourable moment for ascending the height and
overthrowing the French troops with the bayonet.
It was now noon. A thick fog which had enveloped the two armies had
cleared off. They had a distinct view of each other, and our young soldiers
beheld the Prussians advancing in three columns with the assurance of
veteran troops habituated to warfare. It was the first time that they found
themselves to the number of one hundred thousand men on the field of batde,
and that they were about to cross bayonets. They knew not yet either
themselves or the enemy, and they looked at each other with uneasiness.
Kellermann went into the trenches, disposed his troops in columns with a
battalion in front, and ordered them, when the Prussians should be at a cer-
tain distance, not to wait for them, but to run forward and meet them with
the bayonet. Then raising his voice, he cried Vive la nation! His men
might be brave or cowards. The cry of Vive la nation! however, roused
their courage, and our young soldiers, catching the spirit of their commander,
marched on, shouting Vive la nation! At this sight, Brunswick, who ha-
zarded the attack with repugnance, and with considerable apprehension for
the result, hesitated, halted his columns, and finally ordered them to return
to the camp.
This trial was decisive. From that moment people gave credit for valour,
to those coblers and those tailors of whom the emigrants said that the French
army was composed. They had seen men, equipped, clothed, and brave ;
they had seen officers decorated and full of experience ; a General Duval,
whose majestic stature and gray hair inspired respect; Kellermann, and
lastly, Dumouriez, displaying the utmost firmness and skill in presence of so
superior an enemy. At this moment the French Revolution was appreciated,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 379
and that chaos, till then ridiculous, ceased to be regarded in any other light
than as a terrible burst of energy.
At four o'clock, Brunswick ventured upon a new attack. The firmness
of our troops again disconcerted him, and again he withdrew his columns.
Marching from one surprise to another, and finding all that he had been told
t;ilsc, the Prussian general advanced with extreme circumspection ; and,
though fault has been found with him for not pushing the attack more briskly,
and overthrowing Kellermann, good judges are of opinion that he was in the
right. Kellermann, supported on the right and left by the whole French
army, was enabled to resist; and if Brunswick, jammed in a gorge, and in
an execrable country, had chanced to be beaten, he might have been utterly
destroyed. Besides, he had, by the result of that day, occupied the road to
Chalons. The French were cut off from their dep6t, and he hoped to
oblige them to quit their position in a few days. He did not consider that,
masters of Vitry, they were merely subjected by this circumstance to the
inconvenience of a longer circuit, and to some delay in the arrival of their
convoys.
Such was the celebrated battle of the 20th of September, 1792, in which
more than twenty thousand cannon-shot were fired, whence it has been since
called the " Cannonade of Valmi."* The loss was equal on both sides, and
amounted to eight or nine hundred men for each. But gaiety and assurance
reigned in the French camp, reproach and regret in that of the Prussians.
It is asserted that on the very same evening the King of Prussia addressed
the severest remonstrances to the emigrants, and that a great diminution was
perceived in the influence of Calonne, the most presumptuous of the
emigrant ministers, and the most fertile in exaggerated promises and false
information.
That same night Kellermann recrossed the Auve with little noise, and
encamped on the heights of Gisaucourt, which he should have occupied at
first, and by which the Prussians had profited in the conflict. The Prus-
sians remained on the heights of La Lune. At the opposite extremity was
Dumouriez, and on his left Kellermann upon the heights, of which he had
just taken possession. In this singular position the French, with their faces
towards France, seemed to be invading it, and the Prussians, with their backs
to it, appeared to be defending the country. Here commenced, on the part
of Dumouriez, a new line of conduct, full of energy and firmness, as well
against the enemy as against his own officers and against the French author-
ity. With nearly seventy thousand men, in a good camp, in no want, or
at least but rarely in want of provisions, he could afford to wait. The Prus-
sians, on the contrary, ran short. Disease began to thin their army, and in
this situation they would lose a great deal by temporizing. A most incle-
ment season, amidst a wet country and on a clayey soil, did not allow them
to make any long stay. If, resuming too late the energy and celebrity of the'
* " It is with an invading army as with an insurrection. An indecisive action is equiva-
lent to a defeat. The affair of Valmi was merely a cannonade ; the total loss on both sides
did not exceed eight hundred men ; the bulk of the forces on neither were drawn out ; yet it
produced upon the invaders consequences equivalent to the most terrible overthrow. The
Duke of Brunswick no longer ventured to despise an enemy who had shown so much steadi-
ness under a severe fire of artillery ; the elevation of victory, and the self-confidence which
insures it, had passed over to the other ride. Gifted with an uncommon degree of intelli-
gence, and influenced by an ardent imagination, the French soldiers are easily depressed by
defeat, but proportionally raised by success ; they rapidly make the transition from one state
of feeling to the other. From the cannonade of Valmi may be dated the commencement of
that career of victory which carried their armies to Vienna and the Kremlin." — Alison. E.
380 HISTORY OF THE
invasion, they attempted to march for Paris, Dumouriez was in force to pur-
sue and to surround them, when they should have penetrated farther.
These views were replete with justice and sagacity : but in the camp,
where the officers were tired of enduring privations, and where Kellermann
was dissatisfied at being subjected to a superior authority; at Paris, where
people found themselves separated from the principal army, where they could
perceive nothing between them and the Prussians, and within fifteen leagues
of which Hulans were seen advancing, since the forest of Argonne had been
opened, they could not approve of the plan of Dumouriez. The Assembly,
the council, complained of his obstinacy, and wrote him the most imperative
letters to make him abandon his position and recross the Manic. The camp
of Montmarte and an army between Chalons and Paris, were the double
rampart required by their terrified imaginations. " The Hulans annoy you,"
wrote Dumouriez ; " well then, kill them. That does not concern me. I
shall not change my plan for the sake of nous ardoilles" Entreaties and
orders nevertheless continued to pour in upon him. In the camp, the officers
did not cease to make observations. The soldiers alone, cheered by the
high spirits of the general, who took care to visit their ranks, to encourage
them, and to explain to them the critical position of the Prussians, patiently
endured the rain and privations. . Kellermann at one time insisted on depart-
ing, and Dumouriez, like Columbus, soliciting a few days more for his
equipment, was obliged to promise to decamp if, in a certain number of days,
the Prussians did not beat a retreat.
The fine army of the allies was, in fact, in a deplorable condition. It was
perishing from want, and still more from the destructive effect of dysentery.
To these afflictions the plans of Dumouriez had powerfully contributed.
The firing in front of the camp being deemed useless, because it tended to
no result, it was agreed between the two armies that it should cease ; but
Dumouriez stipulated that it should be suspended on the front only. He
immediately detached all his cavalry, especially that of the new levy, to scour
the adjacent country in order to intercept the convoys of the enemy, who,
having come by the pass of Grand-Prey and proceeded along the Aisne to
follow our retreat, was obliged to make his supplies pursue the same circuit-
ous route. Our horse took a liking to this lucrative warfare, and prosecuted
it with great success.
The last days of September had now arrived. The disease in the Prus-
sian army became intolerable, and officers were sent to the French camp to
parley.* They confined themselves at first to a proposal for the exchange
of prisoners. The Prussians had demanded the benefit of this exchange for
the emigrants also, but this had been refused. Great politeness had been
observed on both sides. From the exchange of prisoners the conversation
turned to the motives of the war, and on the part of the Prussians it was
almost admitted that the war was impolitic. On this occasion the character
• " The proposals of the King of Prussia do not appear to offer a basis for a negotiation,
but they demonstrate that the enemy's distress is very great, a fact sufficiently indicated by
the wretchedness of their bread, the multitude of their sick, and the langour of their attacks.
I am persuaded that the King of Prussia is now heartily sorry at being so far in advance, and
would readily adopt any means to extricate himself from his embarrassment. He keeps so
near me, from a wish to engage us in a combat as the only means he has of escaping ; for if
I keep within my intrenchments eight days longer, his army will dissolve of itself from want
of provisions. I will undertake no serious negotiation without your authority, and without
receiving from you the basis on which it is to be conducted. All that I have hitherto done,
is to gain time, and commit no one." — Dumouricz's Despatch to the French Govern'
ment. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 361
of Dumouriez was strikingly displayed. Having no longer to fight, he drew
up memorials for the King of Prussia, and demonstrated how disadvantage
oiis it was to him to ally himself with the house of Austria against France.
At the same time he sent him a dozen pounds of coffee, being all that was
left in both camps. His memorials, which could not fail to be appreciated,
nevertheless met, as might naturally be expected, with a most unfavourable
reception. Brunswick replied, in the name of the King of Prussia, by a
declaration as arrogant as the first manifesto, and all negotiation was broken
off. The Assembly, consulted by Dumouriez, answered, like the Roman
senate, that they would not treat with the enemy till he had quitted
France.
These negotiations had no other effect than to bring calumny upon the
general, who was thenceforth suspected of keeping up a secret correspond-
ence with foreigners, and with a haughty monarch, humbled by the result
of the war. But such was Dumouriez. With abundant courage and intel-
ligence, he lacked that reserve, that dignity, which overawes men, while
genius merely conciliates them. However, as the French general had fore-
seen, by the 15th of October the Prussian army, unable to struggle longer
against want and disease, began to decamp. To Europe it was a subject of
profound astonishment, of conjectures, of fables, to see so mighty, so vaunted
an army, retreating before those raw artisans and tradesmen, who were to
have been led back with drums beating to their towns, and punished for hav-
ing quitted them. The sluggishness with which the Prussians were pursued,
and the kind of impunity which they enjoyed in repassing the defiles of the
Argonne, led to the supposition of secret stipulations and even a bargain with
the King of Prussia. The military facts will account for the retreat of the
allies better than all these suppositions.
It was no longer possible for them to remain in so unfortunate a position.
To continue the invasion in a season so far advanced and so inclement, would
be most injudicious. The only resource of the allies then was to retreat
towards Luxemburg and Lorraine, and there to make themselves a strong
base of operations for recommencing the campaign in the following year.
There is, moreover, reason to believe that at this moment Frederick William
was thinking of taking his share of Poland ; for it was then that this prince,
after exciting the Poles against Russia and Austria, prepared to share the
spoil. Thus the state of the season and of the country, disgust arising from
a foiled enterprise, regre .it having allied himself with the house of Austria
against France, and lastly, new interests in the North, were, with the King
of Prussia, motives sufficient to determine his retreat. It was conducted in
the best order, for the enemy who thus consented to depart was nevertheless
very strong.* To attempt absolutely to cut off his retreat, and to oblige him
• " The force with which the Prussians retired, was about 70,000 men, and their retreat
was conducted throughout in the most imposing manner, taking position, and facing about
on occasion of every halt. Verdun and Longwy were successively abandoned. On getting
possession of the ceded fortresses, the commissaries of the Convention took a bloody revenge
on the royalist party. Several young women who had presented garlands of flowers to the
King of Prussia during the advance of his army, were sent to the revolutionary tribunal, and
condemned to death. The Prussians left behind them on their route most melancholy proofs
of the disasters of the campaign. All the villages were filled with the dead and dying. With-
out any considerable fighting, the allies had lost by dysentery and fevers more than a fourth
of their numbers." — Alison. E.
" The Prussians had engaged in this campaign as if it had been a review, in which light
it *»ad been represented to them by the emigrants. They were unprovided with stores or
provisions ; instead of an unprotected country, they found daily a more vigorous resistance ;
382 HISTORY OF THE
to open himself a passage by a victory, would have been an imprudence
which Dumouriez would not commit. He was obliged to content himself
with harassing him, but this he did with too little activity, through his own
fault and that of Kellermann.
The danger was past, the campaign was over, and each reverted to him-
self and his projects. Dumouriez thought of his enterprise against the
Netherlands, Kellermann of his command at Metz, and the two generals did
not pay to the pursuit of the Prussians that attention which it deserved. Du-
mouriez sent General d'Harville to the Chene-Populeux to chastise the emi-
grants ; ordered General Miaczinski to wait for them at Stenay as they issued
from the pass, to complete their destruction ; sent Chasot in the same direc-
tion to occupy the Longwy road ; placed Generals Beurnonville, Stengel,
and Valence, with more than twenty-five thousand men, on the rear of the
grand army, to pursue it with vigour; and at the same time directed Dillon,
who had continued to maintain his ground most successfully at the Islettes,
to advance by Clermont and Varennes, in order to cut off the road to Verdun.
These plans were certainly excellent, but they ought to have been executed
by the general himself. He ought, in the opinion of a very sound and com-
petent judge, M. Jomini, to have dashed straightforward to the Rhine, and
then to have descended it with his whole army. In that moment of success,
overthrowing everything before him, he Would have conquered Belgium in a
single march. But he was thinking of returning to Paris, to prepare for an
invasion by way of Lille. The three generals, Beurnonville, Stengel, and
Valence, on their part, did not agree very cordially together, and pursued the
Prussians but faintly. Valence, who was under the command of Kellermann,
all at once received orders to return, to rejoin his general at Chalons, and
then to take the road to Metz. This movement, it must be confessed, was
a strange conception, since it brought Kellermann back into the interior, to
make him thence resume the route to the Lorraine frontier. The natural
route would have been forward by Vitry or Clermont, and it would have
accorded with the pursuit of the Prussians, as ordered by Dumouriez. No
sooner was the latter apprized of the order given to Valence than he enjoined
him to continue his march, saying that, so long as the armies of the North
and centre were united, the supreme command belonged to himself alone.
He remonstrated very warmly with Kellermann, who relinquished his first
determination, and consented to take his route by St. Menehould and Cler-
mont. The pursuit, however, was continued with as little spirit as before.
Dillon alone harassed the Prussians with impetuous ardour, and, by pursuing
them too vigorously, he had very nearly brought on an engagement.
The dissension of the generals, and the particular views which occupied
their minds after the danger had passed, were evidently the only cause that
procured the Prussians so easy a retreat. It has been alleged that their de-
parture was purchased ; that it was paid for by the produce of a great robbery,
of which we shall presently give an account ; that it was concerted with Du-
mouriez ;-and that one of the stipulations of the bargain was the free retreat of
the Prussians ; and lastly, that Louis XVI. had, from the recesses of his pri-
son, insisted upon it. We have seen what very sufficient reasons must have
occasioned this retreat ; but, besides these, there are other reasons. It is not
credible that a monarch whose vices were not those of a base cupidity would
submit to be bought. We cannot see why, in case of a convention, Dumou-
the continual rains had laid open the roads ; the soldiers marched in mud up to their knees
and for four days together they had no other nourishment than boiled corn," — Mignct. R
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 383
riez should not have justified himself in the eyes of military men, for not
having pursued the enemy, by avowing a convention in which there was
nothing disgraceful to himself: lastly, Clery, the King's valet-de-chambre,
asserts that nothing like the letter said to have been addressed by Louis XVI.
to Frederick William, and transmitted by Manuel, the procureur of the com-
mune, was ever written and delivered to the latter.* All this then is a false-
hood; and the retreat of the allies was but a natural effect of the war.
Dumouriez, notwithstanding his faults, notwithstanding his distractions at\
Grand-Prey, notwithstanding his negligence at the moment of the retreat, I
was still the saviour of France, and of a revolution which has perhaps ad- \
vanced Europe several centuries. It was he who, assuming the command
of a disorganized, distrustful, irritated army, infusing into it harmony and
confidence, establishing unity and vigour along that whole frontier, never
despairing amidst the most disastrous circumstances, holding forth, after the
loss of the defiles, an example of unparallelled presence of mind, persisting
in his first ideas of temporizing, in spite of the danger, in spite of his army,
and in gpite of his government, in a manner which demonstrates the vigour
of his judgment and of his character — it was he, we say, who saved our
country from foreign foes and from counter-revolutionary resentment, and
set the magnificent example of a man saving his fellow-citizens in spite of
themselves. Conquest, however vast, is neither more glorious nor morel
moral. '
* " It has been reported that Manuel came to the Temple, in the month of September, in
order to prevail upon his majesty to write to the King of Prussia, at the time he marched his
army into Champagne. I can testify that Manuel came but twice to the Temple while I was
there, first on the 3d of September, then on the 7th of October ; that each time he was ac-
companied by a great number of municipal officers ; and that he never had any private con-
versation with the King." — Clery. E.
384 HISTORY OF THE
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
ASSEMBLING AND OPENING OF THE NATIONAL CONVENTION-
INVASION OF BELGIUM.
While the French armies were stopping the march of the allies, Paris
was still the theatre of disturbance and confusion. We have already wit-
nessed the excesses of the commune, the prolonged atrocities of September,
the impotence of the authorities, and the inactivity of the public forcetduring
those disastrous days. We have seen with what audacity the committee of
surveillance had avowed the massacres, and recommended the imitation of
them to all the other communes in France. The commissioners sent by the
commune had, however, been everywhere repelled, because France did not
participate in that fury which danger had excited in the capital. But in the
environs of Paris, all the murders were not confined to those of which we
have already given an account. There had been formed in that city a band
of assassins, whom the massacres of September had familiarized with blood,
and who were bent on spilling more. Some hundreds of men had already
set out with the intention of taking out of the prisons of Orleans the persons
accused of high treason. A recent decree had directed that those unfortunate
prisoners should be conveyed to Saumur. Their destination was, however,
changed by the way, and they were brought towards Paris.
On the 9th of September, intelligence was received that they were to ar-
rive on the 10th at Versailles. Whether fresh orders had been given to the
band of murderers, or the tidings of this arrival was sufficient to excite their
sanguinary ardour, they immediately repaired to Versailles on the night be-
tween the 9th and 10th. A rumour was instantly circulated that fresh
massacres were about to be committed. The mayor of Versailles took every
precaution to prevent new atrocities. The president of the criminal tribunal
hastened to Paris, to inform Danton, the minister, of the danger which
threatened the prisoners ; but to all his representations he obtained no other
answer than, " Those men are very guilty." — " Granted," rejoined Alquier,
the president, " but the law alone ought to punish them." — " Do you not
see," resumed Danton, " that I would have already have answered you in
another manner if I could? Why do you concern yourself about these
prisoners ? Return to your functions, and trouble your head no more with
them."
On the following day the prisoners arrived at Versailles. A crowd of
strange men rushed upon the carriages, surrounded and separated them from
the escort, knocked Fournier, the commandant, from his horse, carried off*
the mayor, who had nobly determined to die at his post, and slaughtered the
unfortunate prisoners to the number of fifty-two. There perished Delessart,
and D'Abancour, placed junder accusation as ministers, and Krissac, as com-
mander of the constitutional guard, disbanded in the time of th<> legislative
Assembly. Immediately after this execution, the murderers ran to the prison
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 385
of the town, and renewed the scenes of the first days of September, employ-
ing the same means, and copying, as in Paris, the judicial forms.* This
event, happening within five days of the first, increased the consternation
which already prevailed. In Paris, the committee of surveillance did not
abate its activity. As the prisons had been just cleared by death, it began to
fill them :t<:;iin by issuing fresh orders of arrest. These orders were so nu-
merous, that Roland, minister of the interior, in denouncing to the Assembly
these now arbitrary acts, had from five to six hundred of them to lay on the
bureau, some signed by a single individual, others by two or three at most,
the greater part of them without any alleged motives, and many founded on
the bare suspicions of incivism.
While the commune was exercising its power in Paris, it despatched com-
missioners to the departments, for the purpose of justifying its conduct, ad-
vising the imitation of its example, recommending to the electors deputies
of its own choice, and decrying those who were averse to it in the Legislative
Assembly. It afterwards secured immense funds for itself, by seizing the
money found in the possession of Septeuil, the treasurer of the civil list, the
plate of the churches, and the rich moveables of the emigrants, and lastly,
by drawing considerable sums from the exchequer, under the pretext of
keeping up the fund of aids, (caisse de secours,) and completing the works
of the camp. All the effects of the unfortunate persons murdered in the
prisons of Paris, and on the road to Versailles, had been sequestrated, and
deposited in the extensive halls of the committee of surveillance. Never
would the commune furnish any statement either of those articles or their
value, and it even refused to give any answer concerning them, either to the
minister of the interior, or to the directory of the department, which, ps we
have seen, had been converted into a mere commission of contributions. It
went still further, and began to sell on its own authority the furniture of the
great mansions, to which seals had been affixed ever since the departure of
the owners. To no purpose did the superior administration issue prohi-
bitions. The whole class of the subordinate functionaries charged with the
execution of its orders either belonged to the municipality, or was too weak
to act. The orders, therefore, were not carried into execution.
The national guard, composed anew under the denomination of armed
sections, and full of all sorts of men, was in a state of complete disorganiza-
tion. Sometimes it lent a hand to mischief, and at others suffered it to be
committed by neglect. Posts were totally abandoned, because the men on
duty, not being relieved even at the expiration of forty-eight hours, retired,
worn out with fatigue and disgust. All the peaceable citizens had with-
• "As soon as the prisoners reached the grand square at Versailles, ten or twelve men laid
hold of the reins of the horses in the first wagon, crying out, " Off with their heads !" There
were a few curious spectators in the streets, but the whole escort was under arms. Fifteen
assassins surrounded and attacked the first wagon, renewing the cries of death. The public
functionary, who had taken this wagon under his care, was the mayor of Versailles. He
attempted, but in vain, to harangue the murderers ; in vain did he get up into the wagon, and
use some efforts to guard and cover with his own person the two first of the prisoners who
were killed. The assassins, masters of the field of slaughter, killed, one after another, with
their t-words and hangers, forty-seven out of fifty-three of the prisoners. This massacre lasted
for at least an hour and a quarter. The dead bodies experienced the same indignities as those
of the persons who had been massacred at the Abbey prison, and in the Tuileries. Their
heads and limbs were cut off, and fixed upon the iron rails round the palace of Versailles.
When the assassins thought they had despatched all those who were accused of treason
against the state, they betook themselves to the prison at Versailles, where they killed about
twelve persons." — Peltier. E.
vol. i. — 49 2 K
386 HISTORY OF THE
drawn from that body, once so regular and so useful ; and Santcrre, its
commander, possessed neither energy nor intelligence sufficient to or-
ganize it.
The safety of Paris was thus abandoned to chance, and the commune on
one hand, and the populace on the other, had full scope to do what they
pleased. Among the spoils of royalty, the most valuable, and consequently
the most coveted, were those kept at the Garde Meuble, the rich depot of all
the effects which formerly contributed to the splendour of the throne. Ever
since the 10th of August, it had excited the cupidity of the multitude, and
more than one circumstance had sharpened the vigilance of the inspector of
the establishment. He had sent requisition after requisition for the purpose
of obtaining a sufficient guard ; but, whether from disorder, or from the diffi-
culty of supplying all the posts, or, lastly, from wilful negligence, he had not
been furnished with the force that he demanded.
One night, the Garde Meuble was robbed, and the greater part of its con-
tents passed into unknown hands, which the authorities afterwards made
useless efforts to discover. This new event was attributed to the persons
who had secretly directed the massacres. In this case, however, they could
not have been impelled either by fanaticism or by a sanguinary policy ; and
the ordinary motive of theft can scarcely be ascribed to them, since they had
in .the stores of the commune wherewithal to satisfy the highest ambition.
It has been said, indeed, that this robbery was committed for the purpose of
paying for the retreat of the King of Prussia, which is absurd, and to defray
the expenses of the party, which is more probable, but by no means proved.
At any rate, the robbery at the Garde Meuble is of very little consequence
in regard to the judgment that must be passed upon the commune and its
leaders. It is not the less true that the commune, as the depository of pro-
perty of immense value, never rendered any account of it ; that the seals
affixed upon the closets were broken without the locks being forced, which
indicates a secret abstraction and not a popular pillage ; and that all these
valuables disappeared for ever. Part was impudently stolen by subalterns,
such as Sergent, surnamed Agate, from a superb jewel with which he
adorned himself; and another part served to defray the expense of the extra-
ordinary government which the commune had instituted. It was a wn
waged against the old order of things, and every such war is sullied with
murder and pillage.
Such was the state of Paris while the elections for the National Conven-
tion were going forward. It was from this new assembly that the upright
citizens expected the means and energy requisite for restoring order. They
hoped that the forty days of confusion and crimes which had clasped since
the 10th of August, would be but an accident of the insurrection — a deplor-
able but transitory accident. The very deputies, sitting with such feebleness
in the National Assembly, deferred the exercise of energy till the meeting
of that Convention — the common hope of all parties.
A warm interest was taken in the elections throughout France. The clubs
exercised a powerful influence over them. The Jacobins of Paris had
printed and distributed a list of all the votes given during the legislative ses-
sion, that it might serve as a guide to the electors. The deputies who had
voted against the laws desired by the popular party, and those in particular
who had acquitted Lafayette, were especially distinguished. In th"
vinces, however, to which animosities of the capital had not yet pone
Girondins, and even such of them as were most odious to the agitators of
Paris, were chosen on account of the talents which they had displayed.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. • 387
Almost all the members of the late Assembly were re-elected. Many of th<;
constituents, whom the decree of non-re-election had excluded from the first
legislature, were called to form part of this Convention. In the number were
distinguished Buzot and Petion. Among the new members naturally figured
men noted in their departments for their energy or their violence, or writers
who, like Louvet, had acquired reputation by their talents both in the capital
and in the provinces.
In Paris, the violent faction which had domineered ever since the 10th of
August, seized the control over the elections, and brought forward all the
men of its choice. Robespierre and Danton were the first elected. The
Jacobins and the council of the commune hailed this intelligence with ap-
plause. After them were elected Camille Desmoulins, celebrated for his
writings ; David, for his pictures ;* Fabre-d'Eglantine,+ for his comic works
and an active participation in the revolutionary disturbances ; Legendre,
Panis, Sergent, and Billaud-Varennes for their conduct at the commune. To
these were added Manuel, the procureur syndic ; the younger Robespierre,
brother of the celebrated Maximilien ; Collot-d'Herbois,^: formerly an actor;
* " J. L. David, a celebrated painter, elector of Paris in 1792, was one of the warmest
friends of Robespierre. He voted for the death of Louis XVI. He contrived the Mountain
on which Robespierre gave a public festival in the field of Mars. In 1794 he presided in the
Convention. In 1800 the consuls made him the national artist, when he painted for the
Hospital of the Invalids a picture of General Bonaparte. In 1805 he was appointed to paint
the scene of the emperor's coronation. David was unquestionably the first French painter
of the modern school ; and this consideration had some weight in obtaining his pardon in
1794, when he had been accused of being a Terrorist. A swelling which David had in his
cheeks rendered his features hideous. He was a member of the Legion of Honour ; and his
daughter, in 1805, married a colonel of infantry." — Bioejaphie Moderne. E.
f " Fabre-d'Eglantine was a native of Carcassone. He was known at the commencement
of the Revolution by works which had little success, and since that time, by comedies not
destitute of merit ; but, above all, by criminal conduct both as a public and a private man.
Of low birth, he possessed a vanity which rendered him intolerable. He could not endure
the nobility. While he was obliged to bend before it, he was content with abusing it, as he
could do no more : but when the course of evenU had placed him in a position to crush those
he hated, he rushed on them with the rage of a tiger, and tore them to pieces with delight. I
have heard him say, nearly like Caligula, that he wished the nobles had but one head, that
he might strike it off at a single blow. In 1793, during the trial of Louis XVI., he was soli-
cited to be favourable to that unfortunate prince. ' You will enjoy the pleasure of doing a
good action,' said the applicant. ' I know a pleasure far superior to that,' replied Fabre ;
'it is the pleasure felt by a commoner in condemning a king to death.' " — Memoirs of a Peer
of France. E.
t "J. M. Collot-d'Herbois first appeared on the stage, and had little success. He played
at Geneva, at the Hague, and at Lyons, where, having been often hissed, he vowed the most
cruel vengeance against that town. The line of acting in which he played best was that of
tyrants in tragedies. He went to Paris at the beginning of the Revolution, and embraced the
popular cause. Possessed of a fine face, a powerful voice, and great boldness, he became one
of the oracles at the Jacobin Club. He was no stranger to the September massacres. During
the King's trial he sat at the top of the Mountain, by Robespierre's side, and voted for the
monarch's death. It has been said of this man, who was surnamed the Tiger, that he was
the most sanguinary of the Terrorists. In 1793 he took his departure for Lyons, protested
that the South should soon be purified. It is from the time of this mission that his horrible
celebrity takes its rise. He sent for a column of the revolutionary army, and organized the
demolitions and the employment of cannon in order to make up for the slowness of the guil-
lotine at Lyons. The victims, when about to be shot, were bound to a cord fixed to tree*,
and a picket of infantry marched round the place, firing successively on the condemned. The
mitrailludes, the executions by artillery, took place in the Brotteaui. Those who were
destined for this punishment were ranged two by two on the edge of the ditches that had
been dug to receive their bodies, and cannons, loaded with small bits oi metal, were fired upon
them ; after which, some troops of the revolutionary army despatched the wounded with
3S8 • HISTORY OF THE
and the Duke of Orleans, who had relinquished his titles and called Ipmself
Philippe Egalite. Lastly, after all these names there was seen with astonish-
ment that of old Dussaulx, one of the electors of 1789, who had so strongly
opposed the fury of the mob, and shed so many tears over its atrocities, and
who was re-elected from a last remembrance of 89, and as a kind inoffensive
creature to all parties.
In this strange list there was only wanting the cynical and sanguinary
Marat. This singular man had, from the boldness of his writings, some-
thing about him that was surprising even to those who had just witnessed
the events of September. Chabot, the Capuchin, who by his energy bore
sway at the Jacobins, and there sought triumphs which were refused him in
the Legislative Assembly, was obliged to step forth as the apologist of Ma-
rat ; and as everything was discussed beforehand at the Jacobins, his election
proposed there was soon consummated in the electoral assembly. Marat,
Freron,* another journalist, and a few more obscure individuals, completed
swords or bayonets. Two women and a young girl having solicited the pardon of their hus-
bands and brothers, CoIlot-d'Herbois had them bound on the scaffold where their relations
expired, and their blood spouted out on them. On his return to Paris, being denounced to
the National Convention by petitioners from Lyons, he answered, that ' the cannon had been
fired but once on sixty of the most guilty, to destroy them with a single stroke.' The Con-
vention approved of his measures, and ordered that his speech should be printed. In the year
1794, returning home at one o'clock in the morning, Collot was attacked by Admiral, who
tired at him twice with a pistol, but missed his aim. The importance which this adventure
gave him, both in the Convention of which he was nominated president, and elsewhere,
irritated the self-love of Robespierre, whom Collot afterwards denounced. In 1795 he was
transported to Guiana, where he endeavoured to stir up the blacks against the whites. He
died in the following year of a violent fever, which was increased by his drinking a bottle of
brandy. Collot published some pamphlets and several theatrical pieces, but none of them
dercrve notice." — Biographie Moderne. B.
• " L. S. Freron was son of the journalist Freron, the antagonist of Voltaire and of the
philosophic sect. Brought up at the college Louis-le-Grand with Robespierre, he became in
the Revolution his friend, his emulator, and, at last, his denouncer. In 1789 he began to
edit the ' Orator of the People,' and became the coadjutor of Marat Being sent with Barras
on a mission to the South, he displayed extreme cruelty and activity. On their arrival at
Marseilles, in 1793, they published a proclamation announcing that Terror was the ordrr of
the day, and that to save Marseilles, and to rase Toulon, were the aims of their labours.
1 Things go on well here,' wrote Freron to Moses Bayle ; we have required twelve thousand
masons to rase the town ; every day since our arrival we have caused two hundred heads to
fall, and already eight hundred Toulonese have been shot All the gTeat measures have been
neglected at Marseilles ; if they had only shot eight hundred conspirators, as has been done
here, and had appointed a committee to condemn the rest we should not have been in the
condition we now are." It was at first intended to put to death all who had accepted any
office, or borne arms, in the town during the siege. Freron consequently signified to them
that they must all go, under pain of death, to the Champ de Mars. The Toulonese, thinking
to obtain pardon by this submission, obeyed, and eight thousand persons were assembled at
the appointed place. All the representatives (Barras, 8alicetti, Ricord, Robespierre the
younger, &c) were shocked at the sight of this multitude ; Freron himself, surrounded by a
formidable train, saw these numerous victims with terror ; at last, by the advice of Barras, a
jury was appointed, and a great number of the most guilty instantly shot The shooting
with muskets being insufficient they had afterwards recourse to the mitrailiade ; and it was
in another execution of this nature, that Freron, in order to despatch the victims who had
not perished by the first discharge, cried out ' Let those who are still living, rise ; the republic
pardons them. Some unhappy creatures trusting to this promise, he caused them to f>e im-
mediately fired upon. On quitting Toulon, Freron went with his coadjutors to finish the
depopulation of Marseilles, which they declared a commune without a name, and where they
destroyed more than 400 individuals, by means of a criminal tribunal, and afterwards of a
military committee. At the same time they caused the finest edifices of the city to be de-
stroyed. Returning from his proconsulship, Freron soon became an object of suspicion to
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 389
that famous deputation, which, embracing mercantile men, a butcher, an
actor, an engraver, a painter, a lawyer, three or four writers, an^an abdicated
prince, correctly represented the confusion and the various classes which
were struggling in the immense capital of France.
The deputies arrived successively in Paris, and, in proportion as their num-
ber increased, and the days which had produced such profound terror became
more remote, people began to muster courage, and to exclaim against the
-es of the capital. The fear of the enemy was diminished by the atti-
tude of Dumouriez in the Argonne. Hatred of the aristocrats was converted
into pity, since the horrible sacrifice of them at Paris and Versailles. These
atrocities, which had found so many mistaken approvers or so many timidj
censurers — these atrocities, rendered still more hideous by die robbery which!
had just been added to murder, excited general reprobation. The Girondins,
indignant at so many crimes, and exasperated by the personal oppression to
which they had been subjected for a whole month, became more firm and
more energetic. Resplendent by their talents and courage in the eyes of
France, invoking justice and humanity, they could not but have public bpinion
in their favour, and they already began loudly to threaten their adversaries
with its influence.
If, however, all alike condemned the outrages perpetrated in Paris, they
did not all feel and excite those personal resentments which imbitter party
animosities. Possessing intelligence and talents, Brissot produced consider
able effect, but he had neither sufficient personal consideration nor sufficient
ability to be the leader of a party, and the hatred of Robespierre aggrandized
him by imputing to him that character. When, on the days preceding the
insurrection, the Girondins wrote a letter to Bose, the King's painter, the
rumour of a treaty was circulated, and it was asserted that Brissot was going
to set out for London laden with money. The rumour was unfounded ; but
Marat, with whom the slightest and even the falsest reports were a suffi-
cient ground for accusation, had nevertheless issued an order for the appre-
hension of Brissot, at the time of the general imprisonment of the alleged
conspirators of the 10th of August. A great sensation was the consequence,
and the order had not been carried into effect. The Jacobins, nevertheless,
persisted in asserting that Brissot had sold himself to Brunswick. Robes-
pierre repeated and believed this, so disposed was his warped judgment to
believe those guilty who were hateful to him. Louvet had equally excited
his hatred for making himself second to Brissot at the Jacobins and in the
Journal de la Seniinelle. Louvet, possessing extraordinary talent and bold-
ness, made direct attacks upon individuals. His virulent personalities, re-
newed every day through the channel of a journal, made him the most dan-
gerous and the most detested enemy of Robespierre's party.
Roland, the minister, had displeased the whole Jacobin and municipal party
by his courageous letter of die 3d of September, and by his resistance to the
encroachments of the commune ; but he had never been the rival of any
individual, and exeited no other anger than that of opinion. He had person-
I
Robespierre, whom he attacked in return, and contributed greatly to his ruin. From this
period he showed himself the enemy of the Terrorists, and pursued them with a fury worthy
of a former companion. He proposed in the Convention that death should no longer be
inflicted for revolutionary crimes, except for emigration, promotion of the royal cause, and
military treason, and that transportation should be substituted instead. At the time of the
expedition to St. Domingo in 1802, Freron was appointed prefect of the South, and went
with General Leclerc ; but he sunk under the influence of the climate, after an illness of six
days." — Biographie Moderne. E.
2k2
390 HISTORY OF THE
ally offended none but Danton, by opposing him in the council, and there
was but little danger in so doing, for, of all me» living, Danton was the one
whose resentment was least to be dreaded. But in the person of Roland it
was his wife who was principally detested — his wife, a proud, severe, cou-
rageous, clever woman, rallying around her those highly-cultivated and bril-
liant Girondins, animating them by her looks, rewarding them with her
esteem, and keeping up in her circle, along with republican simplicity, a
politeness hateful to vulgar and obscure men. These already strove to make
Roland the butt of their low ridicule. His wife, they said, governed for him,
directed his friends, and even recompensed them with her favours. Marat,
in his ignoble language, styled her the Circe of the party.*
Guadet, Vergniaud, and Gensonne, though they had shed great lustre on
the Legislative Assembly, and opposed the Jacobin party, had, nevertheless,
not yet roused all the animosity which they subsequently excited. Guadet
had even pleased the energetic republicans by his bold attacks upon Lafayette
and the court. Guadet, ardent, and ever ready to dash forward, 'could dis-
play at one moment the utmost vehemence, and in the next, the greatest
coolness ; and, master of himself in the tribune, he distinguished himself
there by his seasonable and spirit-stirring harangues. Accordingly, he, like
all other men, could not but delight in an exercise in which he excelled, nay,
even abuse it, and take too much pleasure in launching out against a party
which was soon destined to stop his mouth by death.
Vergniaud had not gained so much favour with violent spirits as Guadet,
because he had not shown such hostility to the court ; but, on the other
hand, he had run less risk of offending them, because, in his ease and care-
lessness, he had not jostled others so much as his friend Guadet. So little
was this speaker under the sway* of the passions, that they allowed him to
take his nap quietly amidst the contentions of parties ; and, as they did not
urge him to outstrip others, they exposed him but little to their hatred. He
was, however, by no means indifferent. He had a noble heart, a sound and
lucid understanding, and the sluggish fire of his being, kindling it at times,
warmed and elevated him to the most sublime energy. He had not th<
briskness of repartee as Guadet, but he became animated in the tribune,
where he poured forth a torrent of eloquence ; and, owing to the flexibility
of an extraordinary voice, he delivered his thoughts with a facility and a
fecundity of expression unequalled by any other member. The elocution
of Mirabeau was, like his character, coarse and unequal ; that of Vergniaud,
always elegant and noble, became, with circumstances, grand and energetic.
Hut all the exhortations of Roland's wife were not always capable of rousing
this champion, frequently disgusted with mankind, frequently opposed to the
imprudence of his friends, and, above all, by no means convinced of the uti-
lity of words against force.
Gensonne, full of good sense and integrity, but endowed with a moderate
facility of expression, and capable only of drawing up good reports, had not
as yet distinguished himself in the tribune. Strong passions, however, and
• " To a very beautiful person, Madame Roland united great powers of intellect ; her repu-
tation stood very high, and her friends never spoke of her but with the most profound respect,
lu character she was a Cornelia ; and, had she been blessed with sons, would have edu-
cated them like the Gracchi. Tho simplicity of her dress did not detract from her natural
grace and elegance : and, while her pursuits were more adapted to the other sex, she adorned
them with all the charms of her own. Her personal memoirs are admirable. They arc
an imitation of Rousseau's Confessions, and often not unworthy of the original." — Du
mont. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 391
an obstinate character, could not but gain him considerable influence among
his friends, and from his enemies that hatred which is always excited more
by I man's character than by his talents.
Condorcel, oikv a marquis, and always a philosopher, a man of elevated
mind, an unbiassed judge of the faults of his party, unqualified for the
terrible agitations of democracy, and who had taken no pains to push himself
forward, bad as yet no direct enemy on his own account, and reserved him-
self for all those kinds of labour which required profound meditation.
Buzot,* endued with good sense, elevation of soul, and courage, combining
a firm and simple elocution with a handsome face, awed the passions by die
nobleness of his person, and exercised the greatest moral ascendency on all
around him.
Barbaroux, elected by his fellow-citizens, had just arrived from the South
with one of his friends, like himself a deputy to the National Convention.
The name of this friend was Rebecqui. With a mind but little cultivated,
he was bold and enterprising and wholly devoted to Barbaroux. It wUl be
recollected that the latter worshipped Roland and Petion, that he looked
upon Marat as an atrocious maniac, and Robespierre as an ambitious man,
especially ever since Petion had proposed the latter to him as an indis-
pensable dictator. Disgusted with the crimes committed during his absence,
lie was ready to impute them to men whom he already detested* and he
spoke out, immediately after his arrival, with an energy which rendered
reconciliation impossible. Inferior to his friends in the qualities of mind,
but endued with intelligence and facility, handsome, heroic, he vented him-
self in threats, and in a few days drew upon himself as much hatred as
those who, during the whole existence of the Legislative Assembly, had
never ceased to wound opinions and their holders.
The person around whom the whole party rallied, and who then enjoyed
universal respect, was Petion. Mayor during the legislature, he had, by his
simple with the court, gained immense popularity. He had, it is true, on
the 9th of August, preferred deliberation to combat ; he had since declared
against the deeds of September, and had separated himself from the com-
mune, as did Bailly, in 1790 ; but this quiet and silent opposition, without
embroiling him still more with the faction, had rendered him formidable to
it. Possessing an enlarged understanding, and a calm mind, speaking but
seldom, and never pretending to rival any one in talent, he exercised over
all, and over Robespierre himself, the ascendency of a cool, equitable, and
universally respected reason. Though a reputed Girondin, all the parties
were anxious for his suffrage. All feared him, and in the new Assembly he
had in his favour not only the right side, but the whole central mass, and
even many of the members of the left side.
Such then was the situation of the Girondins in presence of the Parisian
• "F. N. L. Buzot was bom at Evreux in 1760, and was an advocate in that city at the
time of the Revolution, which he embraced with ardour. In 1792 he was deputed by the
Eure to the National Assembly. At the time of the King's trial he voted for his death,
though not for his immediate execution, and he was even one of those who most warmly
solicited a reprieve for him. In the March following, he more than once gave warning of
the despotism of the mob of Paris, and ended one of his speeches by threatening that city
with the sight of the grass growing in the streets if confusion should reign there much longer.
In April he contended against the Jacobins, who, he said, were influenced by men of blood.
Having been denounced as a Girondin, he made his escape from Paris, and after wandering
about some time, was found, together with Petion, dead in a field, a.i J hulf-eaten by Wolves."
— Biographic Moderne. E
392 HISTORY OF THE
faction. They possessed the public opinion, which condemned the late
excesses ; they had gained a great part of the deputies who were daily
arriving in Paris ; they had all the ministers, excepting Danton, who fre-
quently governed the council, but did not employ his power against them ;
lastly, they could boast of having at their head the mayor of Paris, than
whom none was at the moment more highly respected. But in Paris they
were not at home. They were in the midst of their enemies, and they had
to apprehend the violence of the lower classes, which were agitated beneath
them, and, above all, the violence of the future, which was soon to increase
along with the revolutionary passions.
The first reproach levelled at them was, that they wanted to sacrifice Paris.
A design of seeking refuge in the departments and beyond the Loire had
already been imputed to them. The wrongs done them by Paris, having
been aggravated since the 2d and 3d of September, they were, moreover,
accused of an intention to forsake it ; and it was alleged that they wished to
assemble the Convention in some other place. These suspicions, gradually
arranging themselves, assumed a more regular form. It was pretended that
the Girondins were desirous to break the national unity, and to form out of
the eighty-three departments as many states, all equal among themselves,
and united by a mere federative compact. It was added that by this mea-
sure they meant to destroy the supremacy of Paris, and to secure for them-
selves a personal domination in their respective departments. Then it was,
that the calumny of federalism was devised. It is true, that when France
was threatened with invasion by the Prussians, they had thought of intrench-
ing themselves, in case of necessity, in the southern departments ; it is
likewise true that, on beholding the atrocities and tyranny of Paris, they had
sometimes turned their eyes to the departments : but between this point and
the plan of a federative system, there was a very great distance. And,
besides, as all the difference between a federative government and a single
and central government consists in the greater or less energy of the local
institutions, the crime of such an idea was extremely vague, if it had any
existence.
The Girondins, perceiving nothing culpable in this idea, did not disavow
it ; and many of them, indignant at the absurd manner in which this system
was condemned, asked if, after all, the new American States, Holland, and
Switzerland, were not free and happy under a federative government, and
if there would be any great error, any mighty crime, in preparing a similar
lot for France. Buzot, in particular, frequently maintained this doctrine :
and Brissot, a warm admirer of the Americans, likewise defended it, rather
as a philosophic opinion than as a project applicable to France. These con-
versations being divulged, gave greater weight to the calumny of federalism.
At the Jacobins, the question of a federal system was gravely discussed, and
a thousand furious passions were kindled against the Girondins. It was
alleged that they wished to destroy the fasces of the revolutionary power, to
take from it that unity which constituted its strength : and this for the pur-
pose of making themselves kings in their respective provinces.
The Girondins, on their part, replied by reproaches in which there was
more reality, but which unfortunately were likewise exaggerated, and which
lost in force, in proportion as they lost in truth. They reproached the com-
mune with having made itself the supreme authority, with having by its
usurpations encroached on the national sovereignty, and with having arro-
gated to itself alone a power which belonged only to entire France. They
reproached it with a design to rule the Convention, in the same manner as
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 393
it had oppressed the Legislative Assembly. They declared that it would be
unsafe tor the national representatives to sit beside it, and that they would
he sitting amidst the murderers of September. They accused it of having
dishonoured the Revolution during the forty days succeeding the 10th of
Au«mst, and with having selected for deputies of Paris none but men who
had signalized themselves during those horrible saturnalia.
Bo tar all was true. But they added reproaches as vague as those which
dentists addressed to themselves. Marat, Dan ton, and Robespierre,
were loudly accused of aspiring to the supreme power : Marat, because he
was daily urging in his writings the necessity for a dictator, who should lop
off from society the impure members who corrupted it ; Robespierre, because
he had dogmatized at the commune and spoken with insolence to the Assem-
bly, and because, on the evening before the lOdi of August, Panis had pro-
posed him to Barbaroux as dictator ; lastly, Danton, because he exercised
over the ministry, over the people, and wherever he appeared, the influence
of a mighty being. They were called the triumvirs, and yet they had no
sort of connexion with each other. Marat was but a systematic madman.
Robespierre was as yet but a jealous, for he had not the greatness of mind
to be an ambitious man. Danton, finally, was an active man, zealously
intent on promoting the aim of the Revolution, and who meddled with
everything rather from ardour than from personal ambition. But in none of
these men was there yet either a usurper, or a conspirator, in understanding
with the others ; and it was imprudent to give to adversaries already stronger!
than the accusers, the advantage of being accused unjusdy. The Girondins,!
however, showed much less bitterness against Danton, because there had
never been any thing personal between themselves and him, and they despised
Marat too much to attack him direcdy ; but they fell foul of Robespierre
without mercy, because they were more exasperated by the success of what
was called his virtue and his eloquence. Against him they entertained that
resentment which is felt by real superiority against proud and too highly
extolled mediocrity.
An attempt to bring about a better understanding was nevertheless made
before the opening of the National Convention, and several meetings were
held, in which it was proposed that the different parties should frankly ex-
plain themselves and put an end to mischievous disputes. Danton entered
sincerely into this arrangement, because he carried with him no pride, and
desired above all things the success of the Revolution. Petion showed great
coolness and sound reason ; but Robespierre was peevish as an injured man;
the Girondins were haughty and severe as innocent persons, who feel that
they have been offended, and conceive that they hold in their hands the sure
power of revenge. Barbaroux said that any alliance between crime and
virtue was utterly impossible ; and all the parties were much further from a
reconciliation when they separated, than before they met. All the Jacobins
raffied around Robespierre ; the Girondins, and the prudent and moderate
mass around Petion. It was recommended by the latter and by all sensible
persons to drop all accusation, since it was impossible to discover the authors
of the massacres of September and of the robbery at the Garde-Meuble ; to
say no more about die triumvirs, because their ambition was neither suffi-
ciently proved, nor sufficiently manifested to be punished ; to despise the
score of bad characters introduced into the Assembly by the elections of
Paris ; and lasdy, to lose no time in fulfilling the object of the Convention,
by forming a constitution and deciding the fate of Louis XVI.
Such were the sentiments of men of cool minds ; but others less calm de-
void i. — 50
394 HISTORY OF THE
vised, as usual, plans which, as they could not yet be put in execution, were
attended with the danger of warning and irritating their adversaries. They
proposed to cashier the municipality, to remove the Convention in case of
need, to transfer its seat from Paris to some other place, to constitute it a
court of justice for the purpose of trying the conspirators without appeal,
and lastly, to raise a particular guard for it, selected from the eighty-three
departments. These plans led to no result, and served only to irritate the
passions. The Girondins relied upon the public feeling, which, in their
opinion, would be roused by the strain of their e loquence and by the recital
of the crimes which they should have to denounce. They appointed the
tribune of the Convention for their place of rendezvous, for the purpose of
crushing their adversaries.
At length, on the 20th of September, the deputies to the Convention met
at the Tuileries, in order to constitute the new Assembly. Their number
being sufficient, they constituted themselves ad interim, verified their powers,
and immediately proceeded to the nomination of the bureau. Petion was
almost unanimously proclaimed president, Brissot, Condorcet, Rabaud St.
Etienne, Lasource, Vergniaud, and Camus, were elected secretaries. These
appointments prove what influence the Girondin party then possessed in the
Assembly.
The Legislative Assembly, which had sat permanendy ever since the 10th
of August, was apprized on the 21st by a deputation that the National Con-
vention was formed and that the Legislature was dissolved. The two
assemblies had but to blend themselves into one, and the Convention took
possession of the hall of the Legislative Assembly.
On the 21st, Manuel, procureur syndic of the commune, suspended after
the 20th of June with Petion, who had become highly popular in conse-
quence of this suspension, and who had then enlisted among the furious
spirits of the commune, but afterwards withdrawn from them and joined the
Girondins at the sight of the massacres at the Abbaye — Manuel made a mo-
tion which excited a strong sensation among the enemies of the Gironde.
"Citizens representatives," said he, "in this place everything ought to be
stamped with a character of such dignity and grandeur as to fill the world
with awe. I propose that the president of France have the national palace
of the Tuileries assigned for his residence, that he be preceded by the public
force and the insignia of the law, and that the citizens rise at his appear-
ance." At these words, Chabot the Jacobin, and Tallien, secretary of the
commune, inveighed with vehemence against this ceremonial, borrowed fan
royalty. Chabot said that the representatives of the people ought to assimi-
late themselves to the citizens from whose ranks they issued, to the sans-
culottes who formed the majority of the nation. Tallien added that they
ought to go to a fifth story in quest of a president, for it was there that genius
and virtue dwelt. Manuel's motion was consequently rejected, and the
enemies of the Gironde allege that that party wished to decree sovereign
honours to Petion, its chief.
This proposition was succeeded by a grent number of others without in-
terruption. In all quarters there was a desire to ascertain by authentic
declarations the sentiments which animated the Assembly and France It
was required that the new constitution should have absolute equality for its
foundation ; that the sovereignty of the people should be decreed ; that
hatred should be sworn to royalty, to a dictatorship, to a triumvirate, to every
individual authority ; and that the penalty of death should be decreed against
any one who should propose such a form of government. Danton put an
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 395
end to all the motions by causing a decree to be passed, declaring that the
new constitution should not be valid till it had been sanctioned by the people.
It was added that the existing laws should continue in force ad interim, that
the authorities not superseded should be meanwhile retained, and that the
should be raised as heretofore, till new systems of contribution were
introduced. After these motions and decrees, Manuel, Collot-d'Herbois, and
>>ire, brought forward the question of royalty, and insisted that its abo-
lition should be forthwith pronounced. The people, said they, has just been
declared sovereign, but it will hot be really so till you have delivered it from
a rival authority — that of kings. The Assembly, the tribunes, rose to express
their unanimous reprobation of royalty. Bazire, however, wished, he said,
for a solemn discussion of so important a question. " What need is there
for discussion," replied Gregoire, " when all are agreed ? Courts are the
hotbed of crime, the focus of corruption ; the history of kings is the martyr-
ology of nations. Since we are all equally penetrated with these truths,
what need is there for discussion?"
The discussion was accordingly closed. Profound silence ensued, and
by the unanimous desire of die Assembly, the president declared that royalty
was abolished in France. This decree was hailed with universal applause ;
it was ordered to be published forthwith, and sent to the armies and to all
the municipalities.*
When this institution of the republic was proclaimed, the Prussians were
still threatening the French territory. Dumouriez, as we have seen, had
proceeded to St. Menehould, and die cannonade of the 21st, so favourable
to our arms, was not yet known in Paris. On the following day, the 22d,
Billaud-Varennes proposed not to date any longer the year 4 of liberty, but
the year 1 of the republic. This motion was adopted. The year 1789
was no longer considered as having commenced liberty, and the new repub-
lican era began on that very day, the 22d of September, 1792.
In the evening the news of the cannonade of Valmi arrived and diffused
general joy. On the petition of the citizens of Orleans, who complained of
their magistrates, it was decreed that there should be a new election of
• " On the 21st of September, at four o'clock in the afternoon, Lubin, a municipal officer,
attended by horsemen and a great mob, came before the Tower to make a proclamation.
Trumpets were sounded, and a dead silence ensued. Lubin's voice was of the stentorian
kind. The royal family could distinctly hear the proclamation of the abolition of royalty,
and of the establishment of a republic. flebert, so well known by the name of Pere-Duchene,
and Destournelles, since made minister of the public contributions, were then on guard over
the family. They were sitting at tbe time near the door, and rudely stared the King in the
face. The monarch perceived it, but, having a book in his hand, continued to read, without
suffering the smallest alteration to appear in his countenance. The Queen displayed equal
resolution. At the end of the proclamation, the trumpets sounded again, and I went to the
window. The eyes of the populace were immediately turned upon me ; I was taken for my
royal master, and overwhelmed with abuse. The same evening, I informed the King that
curtains and more clothes were wanting for the dauphin's bed, as the weather began to be
cold. He desired me to write the demand for them, which he signed. I used the same ex-
pressions that I had hitherto done—* The King requires for his son,' and so forth. ' It is a
great piece of assurance in you,' said Destournelles, 'thus to persist in a title, abolished by
the will of the people, as you have just heard.' I replied, that I had heard a proclamation,
but was unacquainted with the object of it ' It is,' rejoined he, ' for the abolition of royalty ;
and you may tell the gentleman' — pointing to the King — 'to give over taking a title, no
longer acknowledged by the people.' I told him I could not alter this note, which was already
signed, as the King would ask me the reason, and it was not my part to tell him. ' You
will do as you like,' continued Destournelles, « but I shall not certify the demand.' " —
Ckry. E.
396 HISTORY OF THE
members of the administrative bodies and of the tribunals, and that the con-
ditions of eligibility fixed by the constitution of 1791 should be considered
as null. It was no longer necessary to select judges from among the law-
yers, or administrators from a certain class of proprietors. The Legislative
Assembly had already abolished the marc of silver, and extended the electo-
ral qualification to all citizens who had attained the age of majority.
The Convention now removed the last demarcations, by calling all the
citizens to all the functions of every kind. Thus was introduced the system
of absolute equality.*
On the 23d, all the ministers were heard. Cambon, the deputy, made a
report on the state of the finances. The preceding assemblies had decreed
the issue of assignats to the amount of two thousand seven hundred millions ;
two thousand five hundred millions had been expended ; there remained two
hundred millions, of which one hundred and seventy-six were yet to be
made, and the other twenty-four were still in the exchequer. The taxes
were withheld by the departments for the purchase of corn ordered by the
last Assembly ; fresh extraordinary resources were required. The mass of
the national property being daily increased by emigration, the Convention
was not afraid to issue paper representing that property, neither did it hesi-
tate to do so. A new creation of assignats was therefore ordered.
Roland was heard on the state of France and of the capital.- Equally
severe and still bolder than on the 3d of September, he expatiated with
energy on the outrages in Paris, their causes, and the means of preventing
them. He recommended the prompt institution of a strong and vigorous
government, as the only guarantee of order in free states. His report,
listened to with favour, was followed by applause, but nevertheless excited
no explosion among those who considered themselves as accused where it
treated of the disturbances in Paris.
But scarcely was this first survey taken of the state of France, when
news arrived of the breaking out of commotions in certain departments.
Roland addressed a letter to the Convention, denouncing these fresh outrages
and demanding their repression. As soon as this letter was read, the depu-
ties Kersaint and Buzot rushed to the tribune to denounce the acts of vio-
lence of all sorts that began to be everywhere committed. " The murders,"
said they, " are imitated in the departments. It is not anarchy that must be
accused of them, but tyrants of a new species, who are raising themselves
above scarcely-emancipated France. It is from Paris that these fatal
exhortations to crime are daily emanating. On all the walls of the capital
are posted bills instigating to murder, to conflagration, to pillage, and lists
of proscriptions, in which new victims are daily pointed out. How are the
people to be preserved from the most abject wretchedness, if so many
citizens are doomed to keep themselves concealed? How make France
* " The name of citizen was now the universal salutation among all classes. Even when
a deputy spoke of a shoeblack, that symbol of equality was regularly exchanged between
them ; and in the ordinary intercourse of society, there was a ludicrous affectation of repub-
lican brevity and simplicity. ' When thou conquerest Brussels,' said Collet-d'Herbois, the
actor, to General Dumouriez, < my wife, who is in that city, has permission to reward thee
with a kiss.' Three weeks afterwards the general took Brussels, but he was ungallant
enough not to profit by this flattering permission. His quick wit caught the ridicule of such
an ejaculation as that which Camus addressed to him. ' Citizen-general,' said the deputy,
' thou dost meditate the part of Cesar, but remember, I will be Brutus, and plunge a poniard
into thy bosom.' — ' My dear Camus,' replied the lively soldier, who had been in worse dan-
gers than were involved in this classical threat, ' I am no more like Cesar than you are like
Brutus ; and an assurance that I should live till you kill me would be equal to a brevet of
immortality." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 397
hope for a constitution, if the Convention, which ought to decree it, delibe-
rates under uplifted daggers ? A stop must, for the honour of the Revolution,
be put to all these excesses, and a distinction made between the civic bravery
which defied despotism on the 10th of August, and the cruelty which, on
the 2d and 3d of September, obeyed a mute and hidden tyranny."
The speakers, in consequence, proposed the establishment of a committee
for the purpose —
1. Of rendering an account of the state of the republic, and of Paris
in particular;
2. Of presenting a projet de hi against the instigators of murder and
assassination ;
3. Of reporting on the means of placing at the disposal of the National
Convention a public force raised in the eighty-three departments.
On this motion, all the members of the left side, on which were ranged
the most ardent spirits of the new assembly, set up tumultuous shouts. The
evils prevailing in France were, according to them, exaggerated. The
hypocritical complaints, which they had just heard, issued from the depths
of the dungeons in which were justly immured those suspected persons
who, for three years, had been invoking civil war upon their country.
The evils complained of were inevitable. The people were in a state of re-
volution, and it was their duty to take energetic measures for their welfare.
Those critical moments were now past, and the declarations just issued
by the Convention would suffice to allay the disturbances. Besides, where-
fore an extraordinary jurisdiction ? The old laws were still in force, and
were sufficient for provocations to murder. Was it a new martial law that
members were desirous of establishing ?
By a contradiction very common among parties, those who had demanded
the extraordinary jurisdiction of the 17th of August, those who were about
to demand that of the revolutionary tribunal, inveighed against a law which,
they said, was a law of blood. " A law of blood !" exclaimed Kersaint ;
" when it is, on the contrary, the spilling of blood that I wish to prevent !"
An adjournment, however, was vehemently called for. " To adjourn the
repression of murders," cried Vergniaud, " is to order them. The foes of
France are in arms upon our territory, and you would have the French citizens,
instead of fighting them, slaughter one another like the soldiers of Cadmus !"
At length the motion of Kersaint and Buzot was adopted entire. A decree
was passed that laws should be prepared for the punishment of instigators to
murder, and for the organization of a departmental guard.
This sitting of the 24th had caused a great agitation in the public mind ;
yet no name had been mentioned, and the charges brought forward were but
general. Next day, the deputies met with all the resentments of the preced-
ing day rankling within them, the one party murmuring against the decrees
that had been passed, the other regretting that it had not said enough against
what it termed the disorganizing faction. While some thus attacked and
others defended the decrees, Merlin, formerly usher and municipal officer of
Thionville, afterwards a member of the Legislative Assembly, where he
signalized himself among the most determined patriots — Merlin, famous for
his ardour and his intrepidity, demanded permission to speak. " The order
of the day," said he, " is to ascertain if, as Lasource yesterday assured me,
there exists in the bosom of the National Convention a faction desirous of
establishing a triumvirate or a dictatorship. Let all suspicions cease, or let
Lasource point out the guilty persons, and I swear to stab them before the
face of the Assembly." Lasource, thus pointedly called upon to explain
2L
398 HISTORY OF THE
himself, reported his conversation with Merlin, and again designated, but
without naming them, the ambitious men who wished to exalt themselves
upon the ruins of demolished royalty. " It is they who have instigated to
murder and plunder, who have issued orders of arrest against members of
the Legislative Assembly, who point the dagger against the courageous
members of the Convention, and who impute to the people the excesses
perpetrated by themselves." He added that, when the time should arrive,
he would tear off the veil which he had only lifted, were he even to perish
under their blows.
Still, however, the triumvirs were not named. Osselin ascended the tri-
bune, and mentioned the deputation of Paris of which he was a member.
He said that it was against that body that jealousy was so studiously excited,
but that it was neither profoundly ignorant enough, nor profoundly wicked
enough, to have conceived plans of a triumvirate or a dictatorship ; that he
would take his oath to the contrary ; and he called for ignominy and death
against the first who should be caught meditating such plans. " Let every
one," added he, " follow me to the tribune, and make the same declaration."
— " Yes," exclaimed Rebecqui, the courageous friend of Barbaroux ; " yes,
that party charged with tyrannical projects exists, and I will name it — it is
Robespierre's party. Marseilles knows this, and has sent us hither to
oppose it."
This bold apostrophe produced a strong sensation in the Assembly. All
eyes turned towards Robespierre. Danton hastened to speak, for the pur-
pose of healing divisions, and of preventing accusations which he knew to
be in part directed against himself. " That day," said he, " will be a glo-
rious one for the republic, on which a frank and brotherly explanation shall
dispel all jealousies. People talk of dictators, of triumvirs ; but that charge
is vague, and ought to be signed." — " I will sign it !" again exclaimed Re-
becqui, rushing to the bureau. "Good," rejoined Danton; "if there be
guilty persons, let them be sacrificed, even though they were my dearest
friends. For my part, my life is known. In the patriotic societies, on the
10th of August, in the executive council, I have served the cause of liberty,
without any private view, and with the energy of my disposition. For my
own person, then, I fear no accusations ; but I wish to save everybody < JM
from them. There is, I admit, in the deputation of Paris, a man who might
be called the Royou of the republicans — that is Marat. I have frequently
been charged with being the instigator of his placards ; but I appeal to the
president, and beg him to declare if, in the communes and the committers,
he has not seen me frequently at variance with Marat. For the rest, that
writer, so vehemently accused, has passed part of his life in cellars and pri-
sons. Suffering has soured his temper, and his extravagances ought to be
excused. But let us leave mere individual discussions, and endeavour to
render them subservient to the public welfare. Decree the penalty ol
against any one who shall propose either a dictator or a triumvirate." This
motion was hailed with applause.
" That is not all," resumed Danton ; " there is another apprehension dif-
fused among the public. That, too, ought to be dispelled. It is alleged that
part of the deputies are meditating the federative system and the division of
France into a great number of sections. It is essential that we should form
one whole. Declare,, then, by another decree, the unity of France and of
its government. These foundations laid, let us discard our jealousies, let M
be united, and push forward to our goal."
Buzot, in reply to Danton, observed that the dictatorship was a thing that
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 399
might be assumed and was not likely to be demanded ; and that to enact
law8 against such a demand was illusory ; that, as for the federative system,
nobody dreamt of it ; that the plan of a departmental guard was a mean of
unity, since all the departments would be called upon in common to guard
the national representation ; that, for the rest, it might be well to make a law
on that subject, but that it ought to be maturely weighed, and in consequence
the propositions of Danton ought to be referred to the committee of six de-
1 on the preceding day.
Robespierre, personally accused, asked leave to speak in his turn. He
set out with declaring that it was not himself that he was going to defend,
but the public weal, attacked in his person. Addressing Rebecqui, " Citi-
zen," said he, " who have not been afraid to accuse me, I thank you. In
your courage I recognise the celebrated city which has deputed you. The
country, you, and myself, will be gainers by this accusation.
*' A party," he continued, " has been pointed out as meditating a new
tyranny, and I have been called its chief. The charge is vague ; but, thanks
to all that I have done for liberty, it will be easy for me to reply to it. It
was I, who, in the Constituent Assembly, for three years combated all the
factions, whatever name they borrowed. It was I who combated the court,
and disdained its gifts. It was I " — " That is not the question,"
exclaimed several deputies. " Let him justify himself," replied Tallien.
" Since I am accused of treason against the country," resumed Robespierre,
" have I not a right to rebut the charge by the evidence of my whole life ?"
He then began again to enumerate his two-fold services against the aristo-
cracy, and die false patriots who assumed the mask of liberty. As he uttered
these words, he pointed to^he right side of the Convention. Osselin, him-
self tired of this enumeration, interrupted Robespierre, and desired him to
give a frank explanation. " The question," said Lecointe-Puiravaux, " does
not relate to what you have done, but to what you are charged of doing at
the present moment." Robespierre then fell back upon the liberty of opinion,
upon the sacred right of defence, upon the public weal, equally compromised
with himself in this accusation. Again he was exhorted to be brief, but he
proceeded with the same diffuseness as before. Referring to the famous
decrees passed on his motion against the re-election of the Constituents, and
against the nomination of deputies to places in the gift of the government,
he asked if those were proofs of ambition. Then, recriminating on his ad-
versaries, he renewed the accusation of federalism, and concluded by de-
manding the adoption of the decrees moved by Danton, and a serious
investigation of the charge preferred against himself. Barbaroux, out of
patience, hastened to the bar. " Barbaroux of Marseilles," said he, " comes
to sign the denunciation made against Robespierre by Rebecqui." He then
related a very insignificant and oft-repeated story, namely, that before the
10th of August, Panis took him to Robespierre's, and that, on leaving, after
this interview, Panis presented Robespierre to him as the only man, the only
dictator, capable of saving the public weal; and that, upon this, he, Barba-
roux, replied that the Marsellais would never bow their heads before either
a king or a dictator.
We have already detailed these circumstances, and the reader has had an
opportunity of judging whether these vague and trivial expressions of Robes-
pierre's friends furnished sufficient ground for an accusation. Barbaroux
reviewed, one after another, the imputations thrown out against the Giron-
dins. He proposed that federalism should be proscribed by a decree, and
that all the members of the National Convention should swear to sutler them-
400 HISTORY OF THE
selves to be blockaded in the capital, and to die there, rather than leave it.
After prolonged plaudits, Barbaroux resumed, and said that, as for the design
of a dictatorship, it could not be disputed ; that the usurpations of the com-
mune, the orders issued against members of the national representation, the
commissioners sent into the departments, all proved a project of domination ;
but that the city of Marseilles watched over the safety of its deputies ; that,
ever prompt to anticipate beneficial decrees, it despatched the battalion of
federalists, in spite of the royal veto, and that now it was sending off eight
hundred of its citizens, to whom their fathers had given a brace of pistols, a
sword, a musket, and an assignat of five hundred livres ; that to these it had
joined two hundred cavalry, well equipped, and that this force would serve
to commence the departmental guard proposed for the safety of the Conven-
tion. As for Robespierre," added Barbaroux, "I deeply regret having
accused him, for I once loved and esteemed him. Yes, we all loved and
esteemed him, and yet we have accused him. Let him acknowledge his
faults, and we will desist. Let him cease to complain, for, if he has saved
liberty by his writings, we have defended it with our persons. Citizens,
when the day of peril shall arrive, then people will be able to judge us ;
then we shall see if the writers of placards have the courage to die along
with us !"
Numerous plaudits accompanied Barbaroux to his seat. At the word pla-
cards, Marat demanded permission to speak. Cambon also asked it and
obtained the preference. He then denounced placards in which a dictator-
ship was proposed as indispensable, and which were signed with Marat's
name. At these words, every one moved away from him, and he replied
with a smile to the aversion that was manifested for him. Cambon was fol-
lowed by other accusers of Marat and of the commune. Marat long strove
to obtain permission to speak ; but Panis gained it before him in order to an-
swer the allegations of Barbaroux. Panis, in a clumsy manner, denied real
acts, but which proved little, and which it would have been better to admit,
and to insist on their insignificance. He was then interrupted by Brissot.
who asked him the reason of the order of arrest issued against himself.
Panis appealed to circumstances, which, he said, had been too readily for-
gotten, to the terror and confusion which then overwhelmed men's minds, to
the multitude of denunciations against the conspirators of the 10th of August,
to the strong rumours circulated against Brissot, and the necessity for inves-
tigating them.
After these long explanations, every moment interrupted and resumed,
Marat, still insisting on being heard, at length obtained permission to speak.
when it was no longer possible to refuse it. It was the first time that he had
appeared in the tribune. The sight of him produced a burst of indignation,
and a tremendous uproar was raised against him. "Down! down!" was
the general cry. Slovenly in his dress, wearing a cap, which he laid down
upon the tribune, and surveying his audience with a convulsive and con-
temptuous smile, "I have," said he, "a great number of personal enemies
in this Assembly.". . . " All ! all !" cried most of the deputies. " I have in
this Assembly," resumed Marat, with the same assurance, " a great number
of personal enemies. I recall them to modesty. Let them spare their
ferocious clamours against a man who has served liberty and them
more than they imagine.
44 People talk of a triumvirate, of a dictatorship— a plan which they attri-
bute to the deputation of Paris. Well; it is due to justice to declare that
my colleagues, and especially Robespierre and Danton, have always been
FRENCH REVOLUTION. **01
hostile to it, and that I have always had to combat them on this point. I
was tin; first and the only one among all the political writers of France, who
thought of this measure as the only expedient for crushing traitors and con-
spirators. It is I alone who ought to be punished; but, before you punish,
\ on ought to hear." These words were followed by some plaudits from a
leu mriiiluTs. Marat continued; "Amidst the everlasting machinations of
a perfidious King, of an abominable court, and of false patriots, who, in
both Assemblies, sold the public liberty, will you reproach me for having
devised the only means of salvation, and for having called down vengeance
upon guilty heads ? No ; for the people would condemn you. It has felt
that it had but this expedient left, and it is by making itself dictator that it
has delivered itself from traitors.
, " I have shuddered more than any other at the idea of these terrible move-
ments, and it is that they might not prove for ever vain that I should have
wished them to be directed by a just and firm hand. If, at the storming of
the Bastille, the necessity of that measure had been understood, five hundred
guilty heads would have fallen at my bidding, and peace would have been
insured from that time. But, for want of the display of this energy, equally
wise and necessary, one hundred thousand patriots have been slaughtered,
and one hundred thousand more are threatened with slaughter. As a proof
that it was not my wish to convert this dictator, tribune, triumvir — the name
is of no consequence — into a tyrant such as stupidity might conceive, but a
victim devoted to the country, whose lot no ambitious man would have
envied, is, that I proposed at the same time that his authority should last for
a few days only, that it should be limited to the power of condemning
traitors, and even that a cannon-ball should, during that time, be fastened to
his leg, that he might always be in the power of the people. My ideas,
revolting as may appear to you, tended only to the public welfare.* If you
were yourselves not enlightened enough to comprehend me, so much the
worse for you !"
The profound silence which had prevailed thus far was interrupted by
some bursts of laughter, which did not disconcert the speaker, who was far
more terrible than ludicrous. He resumed. " Such was my opinion, writ-
ten, signed, and publicly maintained. If it were false, it would have been
right to combat it, to enlighten me, and not to denounce me to despotism.
" I have been accused of ambition ; but look at and judge me. Had I
but condescended to set a price upon my silence, I might have been gorged
with gold — and I am poor. Persecuted without ceasing, I wandered from
cellar to cellar, and I have preached truth from a wood-pile.
" As for you, open your eyes. Instead of wasting time in scandalous
discussions, perfect the declaration of rights, establish the constitution, and
lay the foundations of the just and free government which is the real object
of your labours."
A general attention had been paid to this strange man, and the Assembly,
stupiiied by a system so alarming and so deeply calculated, had kept silence.
• " There is no kind of folly which may not come into the head of man, and, what is
worse, which may not for a moment be realized. Marat had several ideas which were unal-
terable. The Revolution had its enemies, and, according to him, in order to insure its dura-
tion, these were to be destroyed ; he thought no means more obvious than to exterminate
them ; and to name a dictator, whose functions should be limited to proscription ; he preached
openly these two doctrines without cruelty, but with an air of cynicism equally regardless
of the rules of decency and the lives of men ; and despising as weak-minded all who styled
his projects atrocious instead of regarding them as profound." — Mignet. E.
vol. I. — 51 2t. 2
402 HISTORY OF THE
Emboldened by this silence, some partisans of Marat had applauded ; but
their example was not followed, and Marat resumed his place without
plaudits, but without any demonstrations of hostility.
Vergniaud, the purest, the most prudent, of the Girondins, deemed it
right to speak, in order to rouse the indignation of the Assembly. lie de-
plored the misfortune of having to answer a man who had not cleared him-
self from the decrees issued against him, — a man all dripping with calumnies,
gall, and blood. The murmurs were renewed; but he proceeded with
firmness, and, after having distinguished in the deputation of Paris, David,
Dussaulx, and some other members, he took in hand the famous circular of
the commune, which we have already quoted, and read the whole of it.
As, however, it was already known, it did not produce so much effect as
another paper which Boileau, the deputy, read in his turn. It was a hand-
bill printed by Marat that very day, in which he said, " A single reflection
oppresses me ; namely, that all my efforts to save the people, will end in
nothing without a fresh insurrection. From observing the temper of most
of the deputies to the National Convention, I despair of the public welfare.
If the bases of the constitution are not laid in the first eight sittings, expect
nothing more from this Assembly. Fifty years of anarchy await you, and
you will not emerge from it except by means of a dictator, a true patriot and
statesman O prating people I if thou didst but know how to act!"
The reading of this paper was frequently interrupted by bursts of indig-
nation. As soon as it was finished, a great number of members fell foul of
Marat. Some threatened him, and cried, " To the Abbaye ! to the guillo-
tine!"* while others loaded him with contempt. A fresh smile was his
only answer to all the attacks levelled at him. Boileau demanded a decree
of accusation, and the greater part of the assembly was for putting the ques-
tion to vote. Marat coolly insisted on being heard. They refused to hear
him unless at the bar. At length he obtained the tribune. According to
his usual expression, he recalled his enemies to modesty. As for the decrees
which members had not been ashamed to throw in his teeth, he gloried in
them, because they were the price of his courage. Besides, the people, in
sending him to this national assembly, had annulled the decrees, and decided
between his accusers and himself. As for the paper which had just been
read, he would not disown it; for falsehood, he said, never approached his
lips, and fear was a stranger to his heart.
" To demand a recantation of me," added he, " is to require me not to
see what I do see, not to feel what I do feel, and there is no power under
the sun capable of producing this reversal of ideas. I can answer for the
purity of my heart, but I cannot change my thoughts. They are what the
nature of things suggests to me." Marat then informed the Assembly that
this paper, printed as a placard ten days before, had been reprinted against
his will by his bookseller ; but that he had given, in the first number of the
• This fatal instrument was named after its inventor, of whom the Biographie Moderne
gives the following account: — " M. Guillotin, a physician at Paris, born in 1738, was
appointed a member of tho National Assembly, and attracted attention chiefly by his
great gentleness of disposition. In 1789 he made a speech on the penal code, wherein a
tone of great humanity was perceptible, and which terminated by a proposal for substituting,
as less cruel than the cord, that fatal machine, the guillotine, which in the end received so
many victims. Some persons, carried away by the horror which this machine has excited,
have considered as a monster one of the gentlest and at the same time most obscure men of
the Revolution. Nobody deplored more bitterly than M. Guillotin the fatal use thit has
been made of his invention.'' E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 403
Journal de la Republique, a new exposition of his principles, with which he
was sure the Assembly would be satisfied if it would but listen to it.
The Assembly actually consented to the reading of the article, and
appeased by the moderate expressions of Marat in this article, entitled his
" New March," it treated him with less severity ; nay, he even obtained
some tokens of approbation. But he again ascended the tribune with his
usual audacity, and presumed to lecture his colleagues on the danger of giving
way to passion and prejudice; saying that, if his journal had not appeared
that very day to exculpate him, they would have sent him blindly to prison.
" But," added he, showing a pistol which he always carried in his pocket,
and which he pointed to his forehead, " I had wherewithal to remain free ;
and, had you decreed my accusation, I would have blown out my brains in
this very tribune. Such is the fruit of my labours, my dangers, my suffer-
ings ! Well, I shall stay among you to defy your fury !" At these con-
cluding words, his colleagues, whose indignation was rekindled, cried out
that he was a madman, a villain, and a long tumult ensued.
The discussion had lasted several hours, and what had been elicited ?
Nothing whatever concerning the alleged plan of a dictatorship for the benefit
of a triumvirate, but much relative to the character of the parties and their
respective strength. The Assembly had beheld Danton easy and full of
good-will for his colleagues, on condition that he should not be annoyed on
account of his conduct ; Robespierre, full of spleen and pride ; Marat, asto-
nishing by his cynicism and boldness, repelled even by his party, but
striving to accustom minds to his atrocious systems ; all three, in short, suc-
ceeding in the Revolution by different faculties and vices, not agreeing
together, reciprocally disowning each other, and evidently actuated solely
by that love of influence, which is natural to all men, and which is not yet
a project of tyranny. The Assembly united with the Girondins in proscrib-
ing September and its horrors ; it decreed them the esteem due to their
talents and their intergrity ; but it deemed their accusations exaggerated and
imprudent, and could not help perceiving in their indignation some personal
feelings.
From that moment, the Assembly divided itself into a right side and a left
side, as in the first days of the Constituent. On the right side were ranged
all the Girondins, and those who, without being also personally connected
with their party, yet participated in their generous indignation. To the
centre resorted, in considerable numbers, those upright and peaceable depu-
ties, who, not being urged either by character or talent to take any other
share in the struggle of parties than by their vote, sought obscurity and
safety by mixing with the crowd. Their numerical influence in the Assem-
bly, the respect, still very great, that was paid them, the anxiety shown by
the Jacobin and municipal party to justify itself in their opinion— all served
to encourage them. They fondly believed that the authority of the Conven-
tion would suffice in time to daunt the agitators ; they were not sorry to
check the energy of the Girondins, and to be able to tell them that their
accusations were rash. They were still but reasonable and impartial ; at
times somewhat jealous of the too frequent and too brilliant eloquence of the
right side ; but they were soon destined to become weak and cowardly in
the presence of tyranny. They were called the Plain, and by way of oppo-
sition the name of Mountain was given to the left side, where all the Jaco-
bins were crowded together. On the benches of this Mountain were seen
the deputies of Paris, and the deputies of the departments who owed their
nomination to correspondence with the clubs, or who had been gained since
404 HISTORY OF THE
their arrival by the idea that no quarter ought to be given to the enemies of
the Revolution. It comprehended, moreover, some distinguished, but exact,
severe, positive minds, who condemned the theories and the philanthropy
of the Girondins as vain abstractions. The Mountaineers, however, were
stdl far from numerous. The Plain, united with the right side, composed
an immense majority, which had conferred the presidency on Petion, and
which approved of the attacks of the Girondins on September, excepting
the personalities, which seemed too premature and too unfounded.
The Assembly had passed to the order of the day upon the reciprocal
accusations of the two parties ; but the decree of the preceding day was
upheld, and three points were determined upon : 1 . To demand of the
minister of the interior an exact and faithful report of the state of Paris ;
2. To draw up aprojet de loi against the instigators of murder and pillage ;
3. To devise means for collecting round the Convention a departmental
guard. As to the report on the state of Paris, it was known with what
energy and in what spirit that task would be performed, since it was com-
mitted to Roland. As for the commission charged with the two projets
against written instigations, and for the raising of a guard, the like hopes
were conceived of its labours, because it was entirely composed of Giron-
dins. Buzot, Lasource, and Kersaint, formed part of it.
It was to these two latter measures that the jjlountaineers were most hos-
tile. They asked if the Girondins meant to renew martial law and the
massacres of the Champ de Mars ; and if the Convention intended to sur-
round itself with satellites and life-guards, like the last King. They again
brought forward — so the Girondins alleged — all the reasons urged by the
court against the camp near Paris.
Many, even of the most ardent members of the left side, were themselves,
in their quality of members of the Convention, decidedly adverse to the
usurpations of the commune ; and, setting aside the deputies of Paris, none
of them defended it when attacked, as it was every day. Accordingly,
decrees briskly followed decrees. As the commune deferred renewing itself,
in execution of .the decree prescribing the re-election of all the administra-
tive bodies, the executive council was ordered to superintend its renewal,
and to report on the subject to the Assembly within three days. A commis-
sion of six members was appointed to receive the declaration signed by all
those who had deposited effects at the Hdtel de Ville, and to investigate the
existence of those effects, or the use to which they had been applied by the
municipality. The directory of the department, which the insurrectional
commune had reduced to the tide and duties of a mere administrative com-
mission, was reinstated in all its functions, and resumed its title of directory.
The communal elections, for the appointment of the mayor, the municipality.
and the general council, which, by the contrivance of the Jacobins, were to
have taken place viva voce, for the purpose of intimidating the weak, were
again rendered secret by a confirmation of the existing law. The elections
already made in this illegal manner were annulled, and the sections pro-
iceeded to new ones in the prescribed form. LasUy, all prisoners confined
without any mandate of arrest were ordered to be forthwith liberated. This
was a severe blow given to the committee of surveillance, which was parti-
cularly inveterate against persons.
All these decrees had been passed in the first days of October ; and the
commune, being closely pressed, found itself obliged to yield to the ascend-
j ency of the Convention. The committee of surveillance, however, would
/ not suffer itself to be beaten without resistance. Its members repaired tc
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 405
the Assembly, saying that they came to confound their enemies. Having in
their custody the papers found in the house of Laporte, intendant of the
civil list, condemned, as the reader will recollect, by the tribunal of the 17th
of August, they had discovered, they said, a letter, containing a statement
of ihc sums which certain decrees passed by the preceding Assemblies had
They came to unmask the deputies sold to the court, and to prove the
falseness of their patriotism. " Name them," cried the Assembly with
indignation. " We cannot name them yet," replied the members of the
committee. In order to repel the calumny, a commission of twenty-four
deputies, who had not been members of the Constituent and Legislative
Asm niblies, was immediately appointed to examine the papers, and to make
their report on the subject. Marat, the inventor of this device, boasted in
his journal that he had repaid the Rolandists, the accusers of the commune,
in their own coin ; and he proclaimed the pretended discovery of a treason
of die Girondins. On the examination of the papers, however, none of the
existing deputies were found to be compromised, and the committee of sur-
veillance was declared guilty of calumny. The papers being too voluminous
for the twenty-four deputies to prosecute the examination at the Hotel de
Ville, they were removed to one of the committee-rooms of the Assembly.
Marat, finding himself thus deprived of rich materials for his daily accusa-
tions, was highly incensed, and alleged in his journal that there was a design
to destroy the evidences of all the treasons.
The Assembly, having thus repressed the excesses of the commune,
directed its attention to the executive power, and decided that the ministers
could no longer be taken from among its members. Danton, obliged to
choose between the functions of minister of justice and those of member of
the Convention, preferred, like Mirabeau, those which insured the tribune
to him, and quitted the ministry without rendering any account of the secret
expenditure, saying that he had delivered that account to the council. The
fact was not exacdy so : but the Assembly, without looking too closely into
the matter, suffered the excuse to pass. On the refusal of Francois de
Neufchateau, Garat,* a distinguished writer, a clever metaphysician, and
who had acquired reputation by the ability with which he edited the Jour-
nal de. Paris, accepted Uie post of minister of justice. Servan, weary of
a laborious administration, which was above, not his faculties, but his
strength, preferred the command of the army of observation that was form-
ing along the Pyrenees. Lebrun was therefore directed to take, ad interim,
the portfolio of war, in addition to that of foreign affairs. Lasdy, Roland
offered his resignation, being tired of an anarchy so contrary to his integrity
and his inflexible love of order. The Girondins proposed to the Assembly
to request him to retain the portfolio. The Mountaineers, and Danton in
particular, Whom he had greatly thwarted, opposed this step as not consistent
with the dignity of the Assembly. Danton complained that he was a weak
man, and under the government of his wife. In reply to this charge of
weakness, his opponents referred to Roland's letter of the 3d of September ;
and diey might, moreover, have adduced die opposition which he, Danton,
• " D. J. Garat, the younger, was a man of letters, a member of the institute, and profes-
sor of history in the Lyceum of Paris. In 1792 he was appointed minister of jusUre, and
commissioned to inform Louis of his condemnation. In the following year he became minister
of the interior. Garat survived all the perils of the Revolution, and, in 1806, he pronounced
in the senate one of the most eloquent speeches that were ever made on the victories of
the Emperor Napoleon. Garat published several works on the Revolution." — Biographic
Modern t. E.
406 HISTORY OF THE
had experienced in the council. The Assembly, however, passed to the
order of the day. Being pressed by the Girondins, and by all good men,
Roland continued in the ministry. " I remain in it," he nobly wrote to the
Assembly, " since calumny attacks me there, since dangers there await me,
since the Convention has appeared to wish me still to be there. It is too
glorious," he added, at the conclusion of his letter, " that no worse reproach
can be brought against me than my union with courage and virtue."
The Assembly then divided itself into various committees. It appointed
a committee of surveillance, composed of thirty members ; a second, of war,
consisting of twenty-four ; a third, of accounts, of fifteen ; a fourth, of crimi-
nal and civil legislation, of forty-eight ; a fifth, of assignats, specie, and
finances, of forty-two. A sixth committee, more important than all the others,
was added to the preceding. It was to direct its attention to the principal
object for which the Convention had assembled ; namely, the preparation of
a plan of constitution. It was composed of nine members, celebrated in
different ways, and almost all holding the sentiments of the right side.
Philosophy had its representatives there in the persons of Sieyes, Condorcet,
and Thomas Payne, the American, recently elected a French citizen and a
member of the National Convention ; the Gironde was particularly repre-
sented by Gensonne, Vergniaud, Petion, and Brissot: the centre by Bar-
rere,* and the Mountain by Danton. The reader will doubtless be sur-
prised to see this tribune so restless, but so far from speculative, placed in a
committee so thoroughly philosophical; and we should think that the
character of Robespierre, if not his talents, ought to have gained him this
appointment. It is certain that Robespierre coveted this distinction much
more, and that he was severely mortified because he failed to obtain it. It
was conferred in preference on Danton, whose natural talents fitted him for
anything, and whom no deep resentment had yet separated from his col-
leagues. It was this composition of the committee that so long delayed the
completion of the plan of the constitution.
After having thus provided for the restoration of order in the capital, for
the organization of the executive power, for the formation of committees and
for the preparatives of the constitution, there was yet left a last subject, one
of the most serious to which the Assembly had to direct its attention — the
fate of Louis XVI. and his family. On this point the most profound silence
had been observed in the Assembly : it was talked of everywhere, at the
Jacobins, at the commune, in all places, public and private, with the single
exception of the Convention. Some emigrants had been taken in arms ; ami
they were on their way to Paris for the purpose of being made amenable to
the criminal laws. On this subject, one voice was raised — and this was the
first — and inquired if, instead of punishing subaltern culprits, the Assembly
did not intend to think of the more exalted ones confined in the Temple.t
• " I used to meet Barrere at a table d'hote. I considered hiin of a mild and amiable
temper. He was very well bred, and seemed to love the Revolution from a sentiment of
benevolence. His association with Robespierre, and tbe court which he paid to the different
parties he successively joined, and afterwards deserted, were less the effect of an evil disposi-
tion, than of a timid and versatile character, and the conceit which made it incumbent on him
to appear as a public man. His talents as an orator were by no means of the first order.
He was afterwards surnamed the Anacreon of the guillotine ; but when I knew him, he was
only the Anacreon of the Revolution, upon which, in his ' Point du Jour,' he wrote some very
amorous strains." — Durmont. E.
•f-"The small tower of the Temple in which the King was then confined, stood with its
back against the great tower, without any interior communication, and formed a long square,
flanked by two turrets. In one of these turrets there was a narrow staircase, that led from
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 407
At this question profound silence pervaded the Assembly. Barbaroux was
the first to speak ; and insisted that, before it should be determined whether
the Convention u ;is to try Louis XVI., it ought to be decided whether the
Convention should be a judicial body, for it had other culprits to try besides
those in the Temple. In raising this question, Barbaroux alluded to the
proposal for constituting the Convention an extraordinary court for trying
itself the agitators, the triumvirs, &c. After some discussion, the proposi-
tion was referred to the committee of legislation, that it might examine the
questions to which it gave rise.
At this moment the military situation of France was much changed. It
was nearly the middle of October. The enemy was already driven out of
Champagne and Flanders, and the foreign territory was invaded on three
points, the Palatinate, Savoy, and the county of Nice.
We have seen the Prussians retiring from the camp of La Lune, retreating
towards the Argonne, strewing the defiles with the sick and the dead, and
escaping total destruction solely through the negligence of our generals, who
the first floor to a gallery on the platform ; in the other were small rooms answering to each
story of the tower. The body of the building was four stories high. The first consisted of
an antechamber, a dining-room, and a small room in the turret, where there was a library
containing from twelve to fifteen hundred volumes. The second story was divided nearly
in the same manner. The largest room was the Queen's bedchamber, in which the dauphin
also slept ; the second, which was separated from the Queen's by a small antechamber
almost without light, was occupied by Madame Royale, and Madame Elizabeth. This cham-
ber was the only way to the turret-room in this story, and the turret-room was the only place
of office for this whole range of building, being in common for the royal family, the munici-
pal officers, and the soldiers. The King's apartments were on the third story. He slept in
the great room, and made a study of the turret-closet There was a kitchen separated from
the King's chamber by a small dark room, which had been successively occupied by M. de
Chamilly and M. de Hue, and on which the seals were now fixed. The fourth story was
shut up ; and on the ground floor, there were kitchens of which no use was made. The
King usually rose at six in the morning. He shaved himself, and I dressed his hair ; he
then went to his reading-room, which being very small, the municipal officer on duty remained
in the bed-chamber with the door open, that he might always keep the King in sight. His
majesty continued praying on his knees till five or six o'clock, and then read till nine.
During that interval, after putting his chamber to rights, and preparing the breakfast, I went
down to the Queen, who never opened her door till I arrived, in order to prevent the muni-
cipal officer from going into her apartment. At nine o'clock, the Queen, the children, and
Madame Elizabeth, went up to the King's chamber to breakfast. At ten, the King and his
family went down to the Queen's chamber, and there passed the day. He employed him-
self in educating his son, made him recite passages from Comeille and Racine, gave him
lessons in geography, and exercised him in colouring the maps. The Queen, on her part,
was employed in the education of her daughter, and these different lessons lasted till eleven
o'clock. The remaining time till noon was passed in needlework, knitting, or making
tapestry. At one o'clock, when the weather was fine, the royal family were conducted to
the garden by four municipal officers, and a commander of a legion of the national guards.
At two we returned to the tower, where I served the dinner, at which time Santerre regularly
came to the Temple, attended by two aides-de-camp. The King sometimes spoke to him —
the Queen, never. In the evening, the family sat round a table, while the Queen read to
them from books of history, or other works proper to instruct and amuse the children.
Madame Elizabeth took the book in her turn, and in this manner they read till eight o'clock.
After the dauphin had supped, I undressed him, and the Queen heard him say his prayers.
At nine the King went to supper, and afterwards went for a moment to the Queen's cham-
ber ; shook hands with her and her sister for the night ; kissed his children ; and then
retired to the turret-room, where he sate reading till midnight
The Queen and the princesses locked themselves in, and one of the municipal officers
remained in the little room which parted their chamber, where he passed the night ; the othei
followed his majesty. In this manner was the time passed as long as the King remained in
the small tower. — Ckry. E.
408 HISTORY OF Titr.
severally pursued the enemy with a different object. The Duke of Saxe-
Teschen had not been more successful in his attack on the Netherlands.
While the Prussians were marching upon the Argonne, that prince was not
willing to be left behind, and had deemed it his duty to attempt some bril-
liant enterprise. Though, however, our northern frontier had not been put
into a state of defence, he was almost as destitute of means as ourselves,
and had great difficulty in collecting a scanty materiel and fifteen thousand
men. Then, feigning a false attack upon our whole line of fortresses, he
occasioned the breaking up of one of our little camps, and suddenly moved
towards Lille, to attempt a siege which the greatest generals could not have
carried on without powerful armies and a considerable materiel.
In war, nothing but the possibility of success can justify cruel enterprises.
The duke was only able to approach one point of the fortress, and there
established batteries of howitzers, which bombarded it for six successive
days, and burned more than two hundred houses. It is said that the Arch-
duchess Christine insisted on witnessing this horrible scene. If this were
the case, she could not witness anything but the heroism of the besieged
and the uselessness of Austrian barbarity. The people of Lille, resisting
with noble obstinacy, would not consent to surrender ; and, on the 8th of
October, while the Prussians were abandoning the Argonne, Duke Albert
was obliged to quit Lille. General Labourdonnais, arriving from Soissons,
and Beurnonville, returning from Champagne, forced him to retreat rapidly
from our frontiers, and the resistance of the people of Lille, published
throughout all France, served to increase the general enthusiasm.
Nearly about the same time, Custine* was attempting bold enterprises,
but with results more brilliant than solid, in the Palatinate. Attached to
Biron's army, which was encamped along the Rhine, he was placed, with
seventeen thousand men, at some distance from Spire. The grand invading
army had but feebly protected its rear, whilst advancing into the interior of
France. Weak detachments covered Spire, Worms, and Mayence. Cus-
tine, perceiving this, marched for Spire, and entered it without resistance
on the 30th of September. Emboldened by success, he penetrated on the
5th of October into Worms, without encountering any greater difficulties, and
obliged a garrison of two thousand seven hundred men to lay down their
arms. He then took Frankenthal, and immediately direrted his attention
to the strong fortress of Mayence, which was the most important point of
retreat for the Prussians, and in which they had been so imprudent as to
leave but a moderate garrison. Custine, with seventeen thousand men and
destitute of materiel, could not attempt a siege ; but ho resolved to try a
coup de main. The ideas which had roused France were agitating all Ger-
• "Count Adam Pbillippe Custine, born at Metz in 1740, served as captain in the i
years' war. Through the influence of the Duke of Choiseul, he obtained, in 1762, a regi-
ment of dragoons, which was called by his name. In 1780 he exchanged this for the regi-
ment of Saintonge, which was on the point of going to America, to the aid of the colonies.
On his return, he was appointed marechal de camp. In 1789 he was deputy of the nobility
of Metz, and was one of the first who declared for the popular party. He subsequently
entered the army of the North, and, 1792, made himself master of the pass of Porentmy.
He then received the command of the army of the Lower Rhine, and opened the campaign
by taking possession of Spire. He next took Worms, then the fortress of Mentz, and then
Frankfort-on-the-Maine, on which he laid heavy contributions. In 1793 he was denounced,
and received his dismissal, but the Convention afterwards invested him with the command
of the Northern army. But he had hardly time to visit the posts. Marat and Varennes
were unceasing in their accusations against him, and the revolutionary tribunal soon after-
wards condemned him to death." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
J
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 409
many, and especially those cities which had universities. Mayence was
one of these, and Custine contrived to establish a correspondence there. He
approached the walls, withdrew on the false report of the arrival of an
Austrian corps, returned, and, making great movements, deceived the enemy
as to the strength of his army. Deliberations were held in the fortress.
The design of capitulation was strongly supported by the partisans of the
French, and on the 21st of October the gates were opened to Custine. The
nniton laid down its arms, with the exception of eight hundred Austrians,
who rejoined the grand army. The intelligence of these brilliant successes
spread rapidly and caused an extraordinary sensation. They had certainly
cost but little : at the same time, they were far less meritorious than the
firmness of the people of Lille, and the magnanimous coolness displayed at
St. Menehould ; but people were delighted with the transition from mere
resistance to conquest. Thus far all would have been right on Custine's
part, if, appreciating his position, he had possessed the skill to terminate
the campaign by a movement, which would have been practicable and
decisive.
At this moment the three armies of Dumouriez, Kellermann, and Custine,
were by the most fortunate chance so placed that they might have destroyed
the Prussians, and conquered by a single march the whole line of the Rhine
to the sea. If Dumouriez, less preoccupied by another idea, had kept Kel-
lermann under his command and pursued the Prussians with his eighty
thousand men ; if, at the same time, Custine, descending the Rhine from
Mayence to Coblentz, had fallen upon their rear, they must infallibly have
been overpowered. Then, descending the Rhine to Holland, they might
have taken Duke Albert in the rear, and obliged him either to lay down his
arms or to fight his way through them, and the whole Netherlands would
have been subdued. Treves and Luxemburg, comprised within the line
which we have described, would fall of course. All would be France as far
as the Rhine, and the campaign would be over in a month. Dumouriez
abounded in genius, but his ideas had taken a different course. Impatient
to return to Belgium, he thought of nothing but hastening thither imme-
diately, to relieve Lille and to push Duke Albert in front. He left Keller-
mann, therefore, alone to pursue the Prussians. The latter general might
still have marched upon Coblentz, passing between Luxemburg and Treves,
while Custine would be descending from Mayence. But Kellermann, who
was not enterprising, had not sufficient confidence in the capabilities of his
troops, which appeared harassed, and put them into cantonments around
Metz. Custine, on his part, desirous of rendering himself independent, and
of making brilliant incursions, had no inclination to join Kellermann and to
confine himself within the limit of the Rhine. He never thought, there-
fore, of descending to Coblentz. Thus this admirable plan was neglected,
bo ably seized and developed by the greatest of our military historians.*
Custine, though clever, was haughty, passionate, and inconsistent. His
chief aim was to make himself independent of Biron and every other
general, and he entertained the idea of conquering around him. If he were
to take Manheim, he should violate the neutrality of the elector-palatine,
which the executive council had forbidden him to do. He thought, there-
fore, of abandoning the Rhine, for the purpose of advancing into Germany.
Frankfort, situated on the Mayne, appeared to him a prize worth seizing,
and thither he resolved to proceed. Nevertheless, this free commercial city,
• Jomini.
▼ol. I. — 52 2 M
410 HISTORY OF THE
always neuter in the different wars, and favourably disposed towards the
French, did not deserve this mischievous preference. Being defenceless,
it was easy to enter, but difficult to maintain one's-self there, and conse-
quently it was useless to occupy it. This excursion could have but one
object, that of levying contributions; and there was no justice in imposing
them on a population habitually neuter, and meriting by its very disposition
the good-will of France, whose principles it approved and to whom it
wished success. Custine committed the fault of entering the city. This
was on the 27th of October. He levied contributions, incensed the inhabit-
ants, whom he converted into enemies of the French, and ran the risk,
while proceeding towards the Mayne, of being cut off from the Rhine, either
by the Prussians, if they had ascended as far as Bingen, or by the elector-
palatine, if, breaking the neutrality, he had issued from Manheim.
The tidings of these incursions into the enemy's territory continued to
excite great joy in France, who was astonished to find»herself conquering, a
few days only after she had been afraid of being conquered. The Prussians,
being alarmed, threw a flying bridge across the Rhine, for the purpose of
ascending along the right bank and driving away the French. Fortunately
for Custine, they were twelve days in crossing the river. Discouragement,
disease, and the separation of the Austrians, had reduced that army to fifty
thousand men. Clairfayt, with his eighteen thousand Austrians, had fol-
lowed the general movement of our troops towards Flanders, and was pro-
ceeding to the aid of Duke Albert. The corps of emigrants had been
disbanded, and the brilliant soldiery which composed it had either joined the
corps of Conde" or passed into foreign service.
During these occurrences on the frontier of the North and of the Rhine,
we were gaining other advantages on the frontier of the Alps. Montesquiou,
who commanded the army of the South, invaded Savoy, and detached one
of his officers to occupy the county of Nice. This general, who had dis-
played in the Constituent Assembly all the abilities of a statesman, and who
had not had time to exhibit the qualities of a military commander, which he
is asserted to have possessed, had been summoned to the bar of the Legisla-
tive to account for his conduct, which had been deemed too dilatory. He had
found means to convince his accusers that the want of means and not of zeal
was the cause of his tardiness, and had returned to the Alps. He belonged,
however, to the first revolutionary generation, and this was incompatible
with the new one. Again he was sent for, and he was on the point of being
stripped of his command, when news arrived that he had entered Savoy.
His dismissal was then suspended, and he was left to continue his conquest.
According to the plan conceived by Dumouriez, when, as minister of
foreign affairs, he superintended the departments both of diplomacy and war,
France was to push her armies to her natural frontiers, the Rhine, and the
lofty chain of the Alps. To this end, it was necessary to conquer Belgium,
Savoy, and Nice. France had thus the advantage, in confining herself to
natural principles, of despoiling only the two enemies with whom she was
at war, the house of Austria and the court of Turin. It was this plan, which
failed in April in Belgium, and was deferred till now in Savoy, that Montes-
quiou was about to execute his portion of He gave a division to General
Anselme, with orders to pass the Var and to proceed for Nice upon a given
signal : he himself, with the greater part of his army, advanced from Greno-
ble upon Chamberv; he caused the Sardinian troops to be threatened by St
Genies, and, marching himself from the fort Barraux upon Mont-Melian, lie
succeeded in dividing and driving them back into the valleys. While his
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 411
lieutenants were pursuing them, he advanced upon Chamber}', on the 28th
of September, and made his triumphal entry into that city, to the great satis-
faction of the inhabitants, who loved liberty like true sons of the mountains,
and France like men speaking the same language, having the same manners,
and belonging to the same basin. He immediately convoked an assembly
of Savoyards, for the purpose of deliberating upon a question which could
not be doubtful — the union of Savoy with France.
At the same moment, Anselme, reinforced by six thousand Marseillais,
whom he had demanded as auxiliaries, had approached the Var, an unequal
torrent, like all those which descend from lofty mountains, alternately swol-
len and dry, and incapable even of receiving a permanent bridge. Anselme
boldlv crossed the Var, and occupied Nice, which the Count St. Andre" had
just abandoned, and which the magistrates had pressed him to enter, in order
to put a stop to the excesses of the populace, who were committing frightful
depredations. The Sardinian troops retired towards the upper valleys;
Anselme pursued them; but he halted before a formidable post, that of
Saorgio, from which he could not drive the Piedmontese.
Meanwhile, the squadron of Admiral Truguet, combining its movements
with those of General Anselme, had obtained the surrender of Villafranca
and borne away for the little principality of Oneglia. A great number of
privateers were accustomed to take refuge in that port, and for this reason it
would be of service to reduce it. But, while a French boat was advancing
to parley, the right of nations was violated, and several men were killed by
a general discharge. The admiral, laying his ships athwart the harbour,
poured upon it an overwhelming fire, and then landed some troops, which
sacked the town and made a great carnage among the monks, who were very
numerous there, and who were said to be the instigators of this act of treachery.
Such is the rigour of military law, which was inflicted without mercy on the
unfortunate town of Oneglia. After this expedition, the French squadron
returned off Nice, where Anselme, separated by the swelling of the Var from
the rest of his army, was in a dangerous predicament. By carefully guard-
ing himself, however, against the post of Saorgio, and by treating the
inhabitants better than he had done,* he rendered his position tenable, and
was enabled to retain his conquest.
Montesquiou was, meanwhile, advancing from Chambery towards Geneva,
and was likely soon to find himself in presence of Switzerland, which enter-
tained extremely adverse feelings towards the French, and pretended to dis-
cover in the invasion of Savoy a danger to its neutrality.
The sentiments of the cantons in regard to us were widely different. All
the aristocratic republics condemned our Revolution. Berne, in particular,
and its avoyer, Stinger, held it in profound detestation ; and the more so,
because it furnished a subject of high gratification to the oppressed Pays de
Vaud. The Helvetic aristocracy, excited by Stinger and the English am-
bassador, called for war against us, and laid great stress on the massacre of
the Swiss guards on the 10th of August, the disarming of a regiment at Aix,
and, lasUy, the occupation of the gorges of Porentruy, which belonged to the
bishopric of Basle, and which Biron had caused to be occupied, for the pur-
• " The republicans made a cruel use of their victory. The inhabitants of Nice and the
neighbouring country were rewarded for the friendly reception they had given them, by
plunder and outrages of every description. A proclamation issued by General Anselme
against these excesses met with no sort of attention ; and the commissioners appointed by
the Convention to inquire into the disorders were unable to make any effectual reparation." —
Alison. E.
412 HISTORY OF THE
pose of closing the Jura. The moderate party, nevertheless, gained the
ascendency, and an armed neutrality was determined upon. The canton of
Berne, still more irritated and distrustful, sent a corps (Tarmee to Nyon, and,
under the pretext of an application from the magistrates of Geneva, placed a
garrison in that city.
According to ancient treaties, Geneva, in case of a war between France
and Savoy, was not to receive a garrison from either power. Our envoy
immediately quitted the place, and the executive council, instigated by
Clavieres, who had formerly been banished from Geneva, and was jealous
of introducing the Revolution there, ordered Montesquiou to enforce -the
execution of the treaties. He was instructed, moreover, to put a garrison
into the place, that is to say, to commit the same fault with which the Ber-
nese were reproached. Montesquiou, sensible, in the first place, that he
had not at the moment the means of taking Geneva, and in the next, that,
by violating the neutrality and involving himself in a war with Switzerland,
he should throw open the east of France and expose the right flank of our
defensive, resolved, on the one hand, to intimidate Geneva, while, on the
other, he would endeavour to make the executive council listen to reason.
He therefore loudly insisted on the departure of the Bernese troops, and
strove to persuade the French ministry that this was all that could be re-
quired. His design was, in case of extremity, to bombard Geneva, and to
proceed, by a bold march, towards the canton of Vaud, for the purpose of
producing a revolution. Geneva consented to the departure of the Bernese
troops, on condition that Montesquiou should retire to the distance of ten
leagues, which he immediately did. This concession, however, was cen-
sured at Paris ; and Montesquiou, posted at Carouge, where he was sur-
rounded by Genevese exiles, who were desirous of returning to their country,
was worried between the fear of embroiling France with Switzerland, and
the fear of disobeying the executive council, which was incapable of appre-
ciating the soundest military and political views. This negotiation, pro-
longed by the distance of the places, was not yet brought near to a close,
though it was the end of October.
Such, then, was the state of our arms in October, 1792, from Dunkirk to
Basle, and from Basle to Nice. The frontier of Champagne was delivered
from the grand invasion ; the troops were proceeding from that province to-
wards Flanders, to relieve Lille, and to invade Belgium. Kellermann took
up his quarters in Lorraine. Custine, escaped from the control of Biron,
master of Mayence, and marching imprudently into the Palatinate and to the
Mayne, rejoiced France by his conquests, affrighted Germany, and indis-
creetly exposed himself to the risk of being cut off by the Prussians, who
were ascending the Rhine, in sick and beaten, but numerous bodies, and still
capable of overwhelming the little French army. Biron was still encamped
along the Rhine. Montesquiou, master of Savoy, in consequence of the
retreat of the Piedmontese beyond the Alps, and secured from fresh attacks
by the snow, had to decide the question of Swiss neutrality either by arms
or by negotiations. Lastly, Anselme, master of Nice, and supported by a
squadron, was enabled to resist in his position, in spite of the swelling of
the Var, and of the Piedmontese collected above him at the post of Saorgio.
While the war was about to be transferred from Champagne to Belgium,
Dumouriez had solicited permission to go to Paris for two or three days only,
for the purpose of concerting with the ministers the invasion of the Neither*
lands, and the general plan of all the military operations. His enemies re-
ported that he was coming to gain applause, and that he was leaving the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 413
duties of his command for the sake of a frivolous gratification of vanity.
These reproaches were exaggerated, for Dumouriez's command suffered
nothing by his absence, and mere marches of troops could be performed
without him. His presence, on the contrary, was likely to be very useful
to the council for the determination of a general plan; and, besides, he might
l>e forgiven an impatience of glory, so general among men, and so excusable
when it does not interfere with duties.
Be arrived in Paris on the 11th of October. His situation was perplex-
•r he could not stand well with either of the two parties. He disliked
the violence of the Jacobins, and he had broken with the Girondins by expel-
ling thorn a few months before from the ministry. Very favourably received,
however, throughout all Champagne, he was still more warmly welcomed
in Paris, especially by the ministers, and by Roland himself, who discarded
all personal resentments when the public welfare was at stake. He present-
ed himself before the Convention on the 12th. No sooner was he announced,
than mingled acclamations and applause arose on all sides. In a simple,
energetic speech, he gave a brief sketch of the whole campaign of the Ar-
gonne, and bestowed the highest commendations on his troops, and on
Kellermann himself. His staff then brought forward a standard taken
from the emigjants, and offered it to the Assembly as a monument of the
vanity of their projects. Immediately afterwards the deputies hastened to
surround him, and the sitting was closed, in order to afford a free scope for
their congratulations. It was more especially the numerous deputies of the
Plain, the impartials, as they were termed, who, having neither rupture nor
revolutionary indifference to lay to his charge, gave him the warmest and
most cordial welcome. The Girondins were not behindhand; yet, whether
it was their fault or his, the reconciliation was not complete, and a lurking
relic of coolness was perceptible between them. The Mountaineers, who
had reproached him with a momentary attachment to Louis XVI., and who
found him, in his manners, his merit, and his elevation, already too like the
Girondins, grudged him the testimonies paid to him in that quarter, and
supposed these testimonies to be more significant than they really were.
After the Convention, he had yet to visit the Jacobins, and this power had
then become so imposing, that the victorious general could not omit paying
them his homage. It was there that opinion in fermentation formed all its
plans and issued its decrees. If an important law, a high political question,
a great revolutionary measure was to be brought forward, the Jacobins,
always more prompt, hastened to open the discussion and to give their opi-
nion. Immediately afterwards, they thronged to the commune and to the
sections ; they wrote to all the affiliated clubs ; and the opinion which they
had expressed, the wish which they had conceived, returned in the form of
addresses from every part of France, and in the form of armed petitions from
all the quarters of Paris. When, in the municipal councils, in the sections,
and in all the assemblies invested with any authority whatever, there was
still some hesitation on a question, from a last respect for legality, the Jaco-
bins, who esteemed themselves free as thought, boldly cut the knot, and
every insurrection was proposed among them long beforehand. They had
for a whole month deliberated on that of the 10th of August. Besides
this initiative in every question, they had arrogated to themselves an inex-
orable inquisition into all the details of the government. If a minister, the
head of a public office, a contractor, was accused, commissioners sent by
the Jacobins went to the offices and demanded exact accounts, which were
2*2
414 HISTORY OF THE
delivered to them without haughtiness, without disdain, and without impa-
tience. Every citizen who had to complain of any act whatever, had only to
apply to the society, and officious advocates were appointed to obtain justice
for him. One day perhaps soldiers would complain of their officers, work-
men of their employers ; the next, an actress might be seen demanding justice
against her manager ; nay, once a Jacobin came to demand reparation for
adultery committed with his wife by one of his colleagues.
Every one was anxious to have his name entered in the register of the
society, in order to attest his patriotic zeal. Almost all the deputies who
had recently arrived in Paris had hastened to present themselves at the Jaco-
bins for that purpose ; there had been counted one hundred and thirteen of
them in one week, and even such as never meant to attend the meetings of
the club nevertheless applied for admission. The affiliated societies wrote
from the extremities of the provinces, inquiring if the deputies of their de-
partments had got themselves enrolled, and if they were assiduous members.
The wealthy of the capital strove to gain pardon for their wealth by going
to the Jacobins to put on the red cap, and their equipages blocked up the
entrance to that abode of equality. While the hall was filled with its nume-
rous members, and the tribunes were crowded with people, an immense
concourse, mingled with carriages, waited at the door, and with loud shouts
demanded admission. Sometimes this multitude became irritated when rain,
so common under the sky of Paris, aggravated the wearisomeness of waiting,
and then some member demanded the admission of the good people, who
were suffering at the doors of the hall. Marat had frequently claimed this
privilege on such occasions ; and when the admission was granted, some-
times even before, an immense multitude of both sexes poured in and min-
gled with the members.
It was in the evening that they met. Anger, excited and repressed in the
Convention, here vented itself in a free explosion. Night, the multitude of
auditors, all contributed to heat the imagination. The sitting was frequently
prolonged till it degenerated into a tremendous tumult, and there the agitators
gathered courage for the most audacious attempts on the following day.
Still this society, so imbued with a demagogue spirit, was not what it sub-
sequently became. The equipages of those who came to abjure the inequa-
lity of conditions were still suffered to wait at the door. Some members
had made ineffectual attempts to speak with their hats on, but they had been
obliged to uncover themselves. Brissot, it is true, had just been excluded
by a solemn decision; but Petion continued to preside there, amidst applause.
Chabot, Collot-d'Herbois, and Fabre-d'Eglantine were the favourite speakers.
Marat still appeared strange there, and Chabot observed, in the langu:
the place, that Marat was " a hedgehog which could not be laid hold of
anywhere."
Dumouriez was received by Danton, who presided at the sitting. He
was greeted with numerous plaudits, and the sight of him gained forgiveness
for the supposed friendship of the Girondins. He made a short speech ap-
propriate to his situation, and promised to march before the end of the month
at the head of sixty thousand men, to attack kings, and to save the people
from tyranny.
Danton, replying in similar style, said that, in rallying the French at the
camp of St. Menehould, he had deserved well of the country, but that a new
career was opening for him ; that he must now make crowns fall before the
red cap with which the society had honoured him, and that his name would
*
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 415
then shine among the most glorious names of France. Collot-d'Hcrbois then
addressed him in a speech which shows both the language of that period
and the feelings of the moment in regard to the general.
"It was not a king who appointed thee, O Dumouriez ; it was thy fellow-
citizens. Boar in mind that a general of the republic ought to serve none
but the republic. Thou hast heard of Themistocles : he had just saved
Greece at Salamis ; but, calumniated by his enemies, he was forced to seek
an asylum among tyrants. They wanted him to serve against his country.
iilv answer was to plunge his sword into his heart. Dumouriez, thou
hast enemies ; thou wilt be calumniated : remember Themistocles !
" Enslaved nations are awaiting thy assistance. Thou wilt soon set them
free. What a glorious mission ! . . Thou must nevertheless guard thyself
against any excess of generosity towards thine enemies. Thou hast con-
ducted back the King of Prussia rather too much in the French manner.
But Austria, we hope, will pay doubly.
" Thou art going to Brussels, Dumouriez. ... I have nothing to say to
thee. . . If, however, thou shouldst there find an execrable woman, who
came beneath the walls of Lille to feast her ferocity with the sight of red-
hot balls ! . . . But no, that woman will not wait for thy coming.
"At Brussels, liberty will again spring up under thy feet. Citizens,
maidens, matrons, children, will throng around thee— O what happiness art
thou about to enjoy, Dumouriez ! My wife is from Brussels ; she, too, will
embrace thee !"*
• The report of the speech addressed by Collot-d'Herbois to Dumouriez, as given in the
Journal des Jacobins, is as follows ;
" I meant to speak of our armies, and I congratulated myself on having to speak of them
in the presence of the soldier whom you have just heard. I meant to censure the answer
of the president ; I have already said several times that the president ought never to reply to
the members of the society ; but he has replied to all the soldiers of the army. This answer
gives to all a signal testimony of your satisfaction : Dumouriez will share it with all his
brethren in arms, for he knows that without them his glory would be nothing. We must
accustom ourselves to this language. Dumouriez has done his duty. This is his best
recompense. It is not because he is a general that I praise him, but because he is a French
soldier.
" Is it not true, general, that it is a glorious thing to command a republican army ? that
thou hast found a great difference between this army and those of despotism 1 The French
are not possessed of bravery only ; they have something beyond the mere contempt of death ;
for who is there that fears death T But those inhabitants of Lille and Thionville, who coolly
await the red-hot balls, who continue immoveable amid the bursting of bombs and the
destruction of their houses — is not this the development of all the virtues 1 Ah, yes, those
virtues are above all triumphs! A new manner of making war is now invented, and our
enemies will not find it out : tyrants will not be able to do anything so long as free men
shall be resolved to defend themselves.
" A great number of our brethren have fallen in the defence of liberty ; they are dead, but
their memory is dear to us. They have left examples which live in our hearts — but do they
live who have attacked us ? No : they are crushed, and their cohorts are but heaps of car-
casses, which are rotting on the spot where they fought ; they are but an infectious dunghill,
which the sun of liberty will have great difficulty to purify. . . . That host of walking
skeletons closely resembles the skeleton of tyranny ; and like it they will fail to succumb. . .
What is become of those old generals of high renown 1 Their shadow vanishes before the
almighty genius of liberty ; they flee, and they have but dungeons for their retreat, for dun-
geons will soon be the only palaces of despots : they flee because the nations are rising.
" It was not a king who appointed thee, Dumouriez ; it was thy fellow-citizens ■ recollect
that a general of the republic ought never to treat with tyrants ; recollect mat such generals
as thyself ought never to serve any but liberty. Thou hast heard of Themistocles ; he had
saved Greece by the battle of Salamis ; he was calumniated — thou hast thy enemies, Dumou-
riez ; thou shalt be calumniated, and that is the reason I talk to thee — Themistocles was
416 HISTORY OF THE
Danton then retired with Dumouriez, whom he seized upon, and to whom
he did, as it were, the honours of the new republic. Danton having shown
at Paris as firm a countenance as Dumouriez at St. Menehould, they were
regarded as the two saviours of the Revolution, and they were applauded
together at all the public places where they made their appearance. A cer-
tain instinct drew these two men towards one another, notwithstanding the
difference of their habits. They were the rakes of the two systems, who
united with the like genius the like love of pleasure, but with a different sort
of corruption. Danton had that of the people, Dumouriez that of courts ;
but, more lucky than his colleague, the latter had only served generously
and sword in hand, while Danton had been so unfortunate as to sully a great
character, by the atrocities of September.
Those brilliant saloons where the celebrated men of former days enjoyed
their glory ; where during the whole of the last century, Voltaire, Diderot,
d'Alembert, Rousseau, had been listened to and applauded — those saloons
no longer existed. There was left the simple and select society of Madame
Roland, which brought together all the Girondins, the handsome Barbaroux,
the clever Douvet, the grave Buzot, the brilliant Guadet, the persuasive
Vergniaud, and where still a pure language prevailed, conversations replete
with interest, and elegant and polished manners. The ministers met there
twice a week, and dined together off a single course. Such was the new
republican society, which joined to the graces of old France the gravity of
the new, and which was so soon to be swept away by demagogue coarseness.
Dumouriez attended one of these simple repasts, felt an unpleasant sensa-
tion at first in the presence of those former friends whom he had driven
from the ministry, and of that woman who appeared to him too austere, and
calumniated ; he was unjustly punished by his fellow-citizens ; he found an asylum among
tyrants, but still he was Themistocles. He was asked to bear arms against his country. ' My
sword,' said he, ' shall never serve tyrants !' and he plunged it into his heart I will also
remind thee of Scipio. Antiochus endeavoured to bribe that great man by offering him a
most valuable hostage, his own son. * Thou hast not wealth enough to purchase my con-
science,' replied Scipio, 'and nature knows no love superior to the love of country.'
" Nations are groaning in slavery. Thou wilt soon deliver them. What a glorious mis-
sion ! Success is not doubtful ; the citizens who are waiting /or thee, hope for thee ; and
those who are here urge thee on. We must, however, reproach thee with some e\
generosity towards thine enemies ; thou hast conducted back the King of Prussia rather too
much in the French manner — in the old French manner, that is to say. (Applause.) But
let us hope that Austria will pay double ; she has money ; don't spare her ; thou canst not
make her pay too much for the outrages which her race has committed upon mankind.
" Thou art going to Brussels, Dumouriez (applause) ; thou wilt pass through Courtrai.
There the French name has been profaned ; the traitor Jarry has burned houses. Thus far
I have spoken only to thy courage. I now speak to thy heart. Be mindful of those unfor-
tunate inhabitants of Courtrai ; disappoint not their hopes this time ; promise them the jus-
tice of the nation ; the nation will stand by thee.
" When thou shalt be at Brussels ... I have nothing to say to thee concerning the con-
duct which thou hast to pursue ... If thou there findest an execrable woman, who came
to the foot of the walls of Lille to feast her ferocity with the sight of red-hot balls . . . but
that woman will not await thee ... If thou shouldst find her, she would be thy prisoner ;
we have others belonging to her family . . . thou wouldst send her hither ... let her be
shaved in such a manner that she never again could wear a wig.
" At Brussels, liberty will revive under thy auspices. A whole nation will give itself up
to joy ; thou wilt restore children to their fathers, wives to their husbands ; the sight of thy
happiness will be a recreation to thee after thy labours. Boys, citizens, girls, worm n. wili
throng around thee, will all embrace thee as their father ! Ah ! how happy wilt thou be,
Dumouriez ! . . My wife, she comes from Brussels ; she will embrace thee, too."
This speech was frequently interrupted by vehement applause.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 417
«to whom he appeared too licentious : but he supported this situation witn
his accustomed spirit, and was touched in particular by the sincere cordiality
of Roland. Besides the society of the Girondins, that of the artists was
the only one which had survived the dispersion of the ancient aristocracy.
Almost all the artists had warmly embraced a revolution, which avenged
them of high-born disdain and promised favour to genius alone. They wel-
comed Dumouriez, in their turn, and gave him an entertainment at which
all the talents that the capital contained were assembled. But, in the very
midst of this entertainment, a strange scene occurred to interrupt it, and to
produce as much disgust as surprise.
Marat, ever prompt to outstrip revolutionary suspicions, was not satisfied
with the general. The merciless denouncer of all those who enjoyed the
public favour, he had always anticipated by his disgusting invectives the
disgrace incurred by the popular leaders. Mirabeau, Bailly, Lafayette,
Petion, the Girondins, had been assailed by his abuse, while yet in posses-
sion of all their popularity. Since the 10th of August, in particular, he had
indulged all the extravagances of his mind ; and, though reA olting to upright
and reasonable men, and strange at least to hot-headed revolutionists, he had
been encouraged by success. He failed not, therefore, to consider himself
as in some measure a public man, essential to the new order of things. He
spent part of his time in collecting reports, in circulating them in his paper,
and in visiting the bureaux for the purpose of redressing the wrongs com-
mitted by administrators against the people. Communicating to the public the
particulars of his life, he declared in one of his numbers* that his avocations
were overwhelming ; that, out of his twenty-four hours in the day, he allowed
but two for sleep, and one only to the table and to his domestic concerns ;
that, besides the hours devoted to his duty as a deputy, he regularly spent
six in collecting the complaints of a multitude of unfortunate and oppressed
persons, and in endeavouring to obtain redress for them ; that he passed the
remaining hours in reading and answering a multitude of letters, in writing
his observations on public events, in receiving denunciations, in ascertaining
the veracity of the denouncers : lastly, in editing his paper and superintend-
ing the printing of a great work. For three years, he said, he had not taken
a quarter of an hour's recreation ; and it makes one shudder to think what
so inordinate a mind, coupled with such unceasing activity, is capable of
producing in a revolution.
Marat pretended to discover in Dumouriez nothing but an aristocrat of
dissolute manners, who was not to be trusted. As an addition to his motives,
he had been informed that Dumouriez had recently proceeded with the utmost
severity against two battalions of volunteers, who had slaughtered some emi-
grant deserters. Repairing immediately to the Jacobins, he denounced the
general in their tribune, and asked for two commissioners to go with him and
question him concerning his conduct. Montaut and Bentabolle were instantly
appointed, and away he went with them. Dumouriez was not at home.
Marat hurried to the different theatres, and at length learned that Dumouriez
was attending an entertainment given to him by the artists at the house of
Mademoiselle Candeille, a celebrated woman of that day. Marat scrupled
not to proceed thither notwithstanding his disgusting costume. The car-
riages, the detachments of the national guard, which he found at the door of
the house where the dinner was given, the presence of Santerrc, the com-
mandant, and of a great number of deputies, and the arrangements of the
* Journal de la Republique Frangaise, No. xciiL, Jan. 9, 1793.
vol. I. — 53
418 HISTORY OF THE
entertainment, excited his spleen. He boldly went forward and asked for
Dumouriez. A sort of murmur arose at his approach. The mention of his
name caused the disappearance of a number of faces, which, he said, could
not endure his accusing looks. Proceeding straightforward to Dumouriez,
he loudly accosted him, and demanded an explanation of his treatment of the
two battalions. The general eyed him, and then said with a contemptuous
curiosity : "Aha! so you are the man they call Marat !" He then surveyed
him again from head to foot, and turned his back upon him, without saying
another word. As, however, the Jacobins who accompanied Marat appeared
milder and more respectable, Dumouriez gave them some explanations, and
sent them away satisfied. Marat, who was far from being so, made a great
noise in the ante-rooms, abused Santerre, who, he said, acted the p
lackey to the general ; inveighed against the national guard, which contributed
to the splendour of the entertainment, and retired, threatening vengeance
against all the aristocrats composing the assembly. He instantly hastened
to describe in his journal this ridiculous scene, which so correctly delineates
the situation of Dumouriez, the fury of Marat, and the manners of that
period.*
* The following account of the visit paid by Marat to Dumouriez at Mademoiselle Can-
deille's is extracted from the Journal de la Republique Franc.aixe ; it was written by
Marat himself, and published in his paper of Tuesday, October 17, 1792
" Declaration of the Friend of the People.
" Less surprised than indignant at seeing former valets of the court, placed by the course
of events at the head of our armies, and, since the 10th of August, kept in their places by in-
fluence, intrigue, and stupidity, carry their audacity so far as to degrade and treat as crimi-
nals two patriot battalions, upon the ridiculous and most probably false pretext that some
individuals had murdered four Prussian deserters; I presented myself at the tribune of the
Jacobins, to expose this odious proceeding, and to apply for two commissioners distinguished
for their civism, to accompany me to Dumouriez, and to be witnesses of his answers to my
questions. I repaired to him with citizens Bentabolle and Montcau, two of my colleagues
in the Convention. We were told that he was gone to the play and was to sup in town.
" We knew that he had returned from the Varietes ; we went in quest of him to the club
ofD. Cypher, where we were told that he was expected to be. Labour lost. At length
we learned that he was to sup at the little house of Talma, in the Rue Chantereine. A file
of carriages and brilliant illuminations pointed out to us the temple where the children of
Thalia were entertaining a son of Mars. We were surprised to find Parisian national
guards within and without. After passing through an antechamber full of servants, intermixed
with hciduks, we arrived at a saloon containing a numerous company.
" At the door was Santerre, general of the Parisian army, performing the office of lackey,
or gentleman-usher. He announced me in a loud voice tho moment he saw me, which dis-
pleased me exceedingly, inasmuch as it was likely to drive away certain masks which one
would like to be acquainted with. However, I saw enough to gain a clue to th«> intrigues.
I shall say nothing of half a score of fairies destined to grace the entertainment Politics
were probably not the object of their meeting. Neither shall I Bay anything of the national
officers who were paying their court to the great general, or of the old valets of the court who
formed his retinue, in the dress of aides-de-camp. — And lastly, I shall say nothing of the
master of the house, who was among them in the costume of a player. Hut I cannot help
declaring, in illustration of the operations of the Convention, and of the character of the
jugglers of decrees, that, in tho august company were Kersaint, the great busy-body Lebrun,
Roland, Lasource, . . . Chenier, all tools of the faction of the federative republic, and Dulaure
and Gorsas, their libelling errand-boys. As there was a large party, I distinguished three
conspirators only ; perhaps they were more numerous ; and, as it was now still early, it is
probable that they had not all arrived, for the Vcrgniauds, the Buzots, the Camuscs, the
Rabauts, the Lacroix, the Guadets, the Barharoux, and other leaders were no doubt of the
party, since they belong to the secret conclave.
" Before I proceed to our conversation with Dumouriez, I shall here pause a moment,
to make with the judicious reader some observations that will not be misplaced. la it to be
v FRENCH REVOLUTION. 419
Dumouriez had spent four days at Paris, and during that time he had not
been able to come to a good understanding with the Girondins, though he
conceived that this generalissimo of the republic, who has suffered the King of Prussia to
escape from Verdun, and who has capitulated with the enemy, whom he might have cooped
up in his camps, and forced to lay down his arms, instead of favouring his retreat, should
have chosen so critical a moment to abandon the armies under his command, to run to play-
houses, to get himself applauded, and to indulge in orgies at an actor's with nymphs of the
opera!
" Dumouriez has disguised the secret motives which call him to Paris under the pretext of
concerting with the ministers the plan of the operations of the campaign. What ! with a
Roland, a frere coupe-choux and petty intriguer, acquainted only with the mean ways of
lying and low cunning ! with a Lepage, a worthy disciple of his patron, Roland ! with a
Clavieres, who knows nothing but the terms of stock-brokering ! with a Garat, who compre-
hends nothing but the affected phrases and the tricks of an academic parasite. I shall say
nothing of Monge ; he is deemed a patriot ; but he is just as ignorant of military operations
as his colleagues, who know nothing at all about them. Dumouriez is come to concert with
the leaders of the party which is caballing for the establishment of a federative republic
That is his errand.
" On entering the saloon where the entertainment was given, I perceived plainly that my
presence damped the gaiety of the guests, which is not to be wondered at, when it is consi-
dered that I am a bugbear to the enemies of the country. Dumouriez, in particular, appeared
disconcerted. I begged him to step with me into another room, as I wished to converse with
him a few moments in private. I addressed him, and our conversation was word for word as
follows : ' We are members of the National Convention, and we come, sir, to beg you to give
us some explanation relative to the affair of the two batttalions, the Mauconseil and the Re-
publican, accused by you of having murdered four Prussian deserters in cold blood. We
have searched the offices of the military committee and those of the war department ; we
cannot there find the least proof of the crime ; and nobody can furnish information on all
these points but yourself.' — 'Gentlemen, I have sent all the documents to the minister.' —
' We assure you, sir, that we have in our hands a memorial, drawn up in his office and in
his name, purporting that there are no facts whatever for pronouncing upon this alleged
crime, and that for such we must address ourselves to you.' — ' But, gentlemen, I have in-
formed the Convention, and to it I refer you.' — ' Permit us, sir, to observe, that the informa-
tion furnished is not sufficient, since the committees of the Convention, to which this matter
has been referred, have declared in their report that it was impossible for them to pronounce
for want of particulars and proofs of the crime denounced. We beg you to say whether you
know all the circumstances of this affair.' — 'Certainly, of my own knowledge.' — 'Then it is
not merely a confidential denunciation made by you on the faitfc of M. Duchaseau V — ' But,
genUemen, when I assert a thing, I think I ought to be believed.' — ' Sir, if we thought as you
do on that point, we should not have taken the step that has brought us hither. We have
great reasons to doubt; seveial members of the military committee have informed us that
these pretended Prussians were four French emigrants.' — ' Well, gentlemen, if that were the
case V — ' Sir, that would absolutely change the state of the matter, and, without approving
beforehand the conduct of the battalions, perhaps they are absolutely innocent : it is the cir-
cumstances which provoked the murder that it is important to know. Now, letters from the
army state that these emigrants were discovered to be spies sent by the enemy, and that they
even rose against the national guards.' — ' What, sir, do you then approve the insubordination
of the soldiers V — ' No, sir, I do not approve the insubordination of the soldiers, but I detest
the tyranny of the officers ; I have too much reason to believe tha» this is a machination of
Duchaseau against the patriot battalions, and the manner in which you have treated them is
revolting.' — ' Monsieur Marat, you are too warm ; I cannot enter into explanations with you.'
Here Dumouriez, finding himself too closely pressed, extricated himself from the dilemma by
leaving us. My two colleagues followed him, and, in the conversation which they had with
him, he confined himself to saying that he had sent the documents to the minister. While
they were talking, I found myself surrounded by all the aides-de-camp of Dumouriez, and by
the officers of the Parisian guard. Santerre strove to appease me: he talked to me about the
necessity of subordination in the troops. ' I know that as well as you,' I replied ; ' but I am
disgusted at the manner in which the soldiers of the country are treated : I have still at heart
the massacres at Nancy and in the Champ de Mare.' Here some aides-de-camp of Dumou-
riez began to declaim against agitators. ' Ceaae those ridiculous exclamations !' I exclaimed ;
' there are no agitators in our armies but the infamous officers, their spies, and the perfidious
420 HISTORY OF THE I
had among them an intimate friend in the person of Gensonne. He had
merely advised the latter to reconcile himself with Danton, as with the
most powerful man, and the one who, notwithstanding his vices, might
become most serviceable to the well-meaning. Neither was Dumouriez on
better terms with the Jacobins, with whom he was disgusted, and to whom
he was an object of suspicion, on account of his supposed friendship with
the Girondins. His visit to Paris had, therefore, not served him much with
either of the parties, but it had proved more beneficial ta him in a military
respect
According to his custom, he had drawn up a general ptan, which had been
adopted by the executive council. Agreeably to this plan, Montesquiou*
was to maintain his position along the Alps, and to secure the great chain
as a boundary by completing the conquest of Nice, and striving to keep up
the neutrality of Switzerland. Biron was to be reinforced, in order to
guard the Rhine from Basle to Landau. A corps of twelve thousand men,
under the command of General Meusnier, was destined to move to the rear
of Custine, in order to cover his communications. Kellermann had orders
to leave his quarters, to pass rapidly between Luxemburg and Treves, to-
hasten to Coblentz, and thus to do what he had already been advised, and
what he and Custine had so long neglected to do. Then, taking the offen-
sive with eighty thousand men, Dumouriez was to complete the French
territory by the projected acquisition of Belgium. Keeping thus the defen-
sive on all the frontiers protected by the nature of the soil, the French would
boldly attack only on the open frontier, that of the Netherlands, where,
according to the expression of Dumouriez, a man could defend himself only
by gaining battle*.
He obtaiifed, by means of Santerre, compliance with his suggestions that
courtiers, whom we have had the folly to leave at the head of our troops.' I spoke tc* Moretou
Chabrillant and to Bourdoin, one of whom was formerly a valet of the court, and the other a
spy of Lafayette.
" I was indignant at all that I heard, and at all the atrocity that I suspected in the odious1
conduct of our generals. As I could not bear to stay any longer, I left the party, and I beheld
with astonishment in the adjoining room, the doors of which were ajar, several of Dumouriez'e
heiduks, with drawn swords at their shoulders. I know not what could be the object of this
ridiculous farce; if it was contrived for the purpose of intimidating me, it must be admitted
that the valets of Dumouriez entertain high notions of liberty. Have patience, gentlemen,
we will teach you to know it Meanwhile be assured that your master dreads the point of
my pen much more than I fear the swords of his ragamuffins."
* "Anne Pierre Montesquiou Fezenzac, born in 1741, was a major-general,* member
of the French Academy, and deputy from the nobility of Paris to the States-general. In
1791, at the time of the King's flight, he declared himself devoted to the Assembly, and,
renewing his civic oath, was sent into the departments of the Moselle, the Meuse, and the
Ardennes, in order to dispose the minds of the people in favour of the Assembly. Some
time after he was appointed commander-in-chief of the army of the South ; he was soon
afterwards denounced by Barn-re as having sought to favour the King of Sardinia, and hurt
the interest of the patriots in his treaty with the republic of Geneva. A decree of accusa-
tion was then passed against him, but when the commissioners appointed to seize him
arrived at the gates of Geneva, they learned that he was gone into Switzerland, and had
carried with him the military chest, to compensate for the property he had left in France.
A decree of 1795 left Montesquiou at liberty to return to France; and, in 1797, he reap-
peared in the constitutional circle, which the Directory then endeavoured to oppose to the
Clichyan party. He died at Paris in 1798." — Biographic Moderne. E.
" Montesquiou wrote, in 1798, a work entitled 'On the Administration of Finance in a
Republic,' which shows a true zeal for the government under which he lived, and a degree
of talent well calculated to serve it. Never was he heard to utter a word that could betray
the faintest regret for his station before the Revolution ; and yet he was, perhaps, one of
ihose who had lost by it most power, most honours, and most wealth." — Rcederer. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 421
the absurd idea of a camp near Paris should be relinquished ; that the men,
artillery, ammunition, provisions, and necessaries for encamping collected
there, should be despatched to Flanders for the use of his army, which was
in want of everything ; that to these should be added shoes, greaUcoats, and
six millions in cash to supply the soldiers with ready money, till they should
enter the Netherlands, after which he hoped to be able to provide for him-
self. He set out, about the 16th of October, with somewhat different notions
of what is called public gratitude, on rather worse terms with the parties
than before, and at the utmost indemnified for his journey by certain military
arrangements made with the executive council.
During this interval, the Convention had continued to act against the
commune, by urging its renewal and closely watching all its proceedings.
Petion had been elected mayor by a majority of 13,899 votes, while Robes-
pierre had obtained but twenty-three, Billaud-Varennes fourteen, Panis
eighty, and Danton eleven. The popularity of Robespierre and Petion
must not, however, be measured according to this difference in the number
of votes ; because people were accustomed to see in the one a mayor, and in
the other a deputy, and did not care to make anything else of either ; but
this immense majority proves the popularity which the principal chief of the
Girondin party still possessed. We should not omit to mention that Bailly
obtained two votes — a singular memento bestowed on that worthy magistrate
of 1789. Petion declined the mayoralty, weary of the convulsions of the
commune, and preferring the functions of deputy to the National Con-
vention.
The three principal measures projected in the famous sitting of the 24th
were a law against instigations to murder, a decree relative to the formation
of a departmental guard, and, lastly, an accurate report of the state of Paris.
The two former, intrusted to the commission of nine, excited a continual
outcry at the Jacobins, at the commune, and in the sections. The commis-
sion of nine nevertheless proceeded with its task ; and from several depart-
ments, among others Marseilles and Calvados, there arrived, as before the
10th of August, battalions which anticipated the decree respecting the de-
partmental guard. Roland, to whom the third measure, namely, the report
on the state of the capital, was allotted, performed his part without weakness
and with the strictest truth. He described and excused the inevitable con-
fusion of the first insurrection ; but he delineated with energy, and branded
with reprobation, the crimes added by the 2d of September to the revolution
of the 10th of August. He exposed all the excesses of the commune, its
abuses of power, its arbitrary imprisonments, and its immense peculations.
He concluded with these words :
" A wise department, but possessing little power ; an active and despotic
commune ; an excellent population, but the sound part of which is intimi-
dated or under constraint, while the other is wrought upon by flatterers and
inflamed by calumny ; confusion of powers ; abuse and contempt of the
authorities ; the public force weak or reduced to a cipher by being badly
commanded ; — such is Paris !"
His report was received with applause by the usual majority, though,
during the reading of it, some murmurs had been raised by the Mountain.
A letter, written by an individual to a magistrate, communicated by that ma-
gistrate to the executive council, and unveiling the design of a new 2d of
September against a part of the Convention, excited great agitation. In that
letter there was this expression relative to the plotters; "They are deter-
mined to let none speak but Robespierre." At these words, all eyes were
2N
422 HISTOR? OF THE
fixed upon him. Some expressed their indignation, others urged him to
speak. He accordingly addressed the Assembly, for the purpose of counter-
acting the impression produced by Roland's report, which he termed a
defamatory romance ; and he insisted that publicity ought not to be given to
that report, before those who were accused, and himself in particular, had
been heard. Then, expiating on so much as related to him personally, he
began to justify himself; but he could not gain a hearing on account of the
noise which prevailed in the hall. Robespierre, having succeeded in quell-
ing the uproar, recommenced his apology, and challenged his adversaries to
accuse him to his face, and to produce a single positive proof against him.
At this challenge, Louvet started up. " It is I," said he ; "I who accused
thee." He was already at the foot of the tribune when he uttered these
words, and Barbaroux and Rebecqui had followed him thither to support the
accusation. At this sight Robespierre was agitated, and his countenance
betrayed his emotion.* He proposed that his accuser should be heard, and
that he should then have leave to reply. Dan ton, who succeeded him in the
tribune, complained of the system of calumny organized against the com-
mune and the deputation of Paris, and repeated, concerning Marat, who was
the principal cause of all these accusations, what he had already declared*
namely, that he disliked him, that he had experienced his volcanic and un-
sociable temper, and that all idea of a triumviral coalition was absurd. He
concluded by moving that a day should be fixed for discussing the report.
The Assembly ordered it to be printed, but deferred its distribution among
the departments till Louvet and Robespierre should have been heard.
Louvet was a man of great boldness and courage. His patriotism was
sincere, but his hatred of Robespierre was blended with resentment occa-
sioned by a personal quarrel, begun at the Jacobins, continued in La Senti-
nelle, revived in the electoral assembly, and rendered more violent since he
was face to face with his jealous rival in the National Convention. With
extreme petulance of disposition, Louvet united a romantic and credulous
imagination, which misled him and caused him to suppose concerted plans
and plots, where there was nothing more than the spontaneous effect of the
passions. He firmly believed in his own suppositions, and strove to force
his friends also to put faith in them. But in the cool good sense of Roland
and Petion, and in the indolent impartiality of Vergniaud, he had to encoun-
ter an opposition which mortified him. Buzot, Barbaroux, Guadet, without
being equally credulous, without supposing such complicated machinations,
believed in the wickedness of their adversaries, and seconded Louvi-t's
attacks from indignation and courage. Salles, deputy of La Meurthe, an
inveterate enemy to anarchists in the Constituent Assembly and in the Con-
vention— Salles, endowed with a sombre and violent imagination, wa« alone
accessible to all the suggestions of Louvet, and, like him, was a believer in
vast plots, hatched in the commune, and extending to foreign countries.
Passionate friends of liberty, Louvet and Salles could not consent to impute
to it so many evils, and they were fain to believe that the party of the Moun-
tain, and Marat in particular, were paid by the emigrants and England to
urge on the Revolution to crime, to dishonour, and to general confusion.
More uncertain relative to Robespierre, they saw in him at least a tyrant
• " Robespierre, whose countenance had till then been firm, and his manner composed,
was now profoundly agitated. He had once measured his powers at the Jacobins with thin
ml ouli table adversary, whom he knew to be clever, impetuous, and regardless of conse-
quences."— Mignet. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION 423
actuated by pride and ambition, and aspiring, no matter by what means, to
the supreme power.
Louvet, having resolved to attack Robespierre boldly, and to allow him
no rest, bad his speech in readiness, and had brought it with him on the day
when Roland was to present his report. Thus he was quite prepared to
support the accusation when he obtained permission to speak. He instantly
availed himself of it, and immediately after Roland.
The Girondins were already sufficiendy disposed to form false notions of
events, and to find a plot where noUiing but violent passions really existed :
but to the credulous Louvet the conspiracy appeared much more evident and
more intimately combined. In the growing exaggeration of the Jacobins,
and in the favour which Robespierre's superciliousness had found widi them
during the year 1792, he beheld a plot framed by the ambitious tribune. He
pictured him surrounded by satellites to whose violence he gave up his op-
ponents ; erecting himself into the object of an idolatrous worship ; causing
it to be rumoured before the 10th of August, that he alone could save liberty
and France, and, when the 10th of August arrived, hiding himself from the
light, coming forth again two days after the danger, proceeding direct to the
commune, notwithstanding his promise never to accept any place, and, of
his sole authority, seating himself at the bureau of the general council ; there,
seizing the control over a blind bourgeoisie, instigating it at pleasure to all
sorts of excesses, insulting for its sake the Legislative Assembly, and demand-
ing decrees of that Assembly upon penalty of the tocsin ; directing, but without
showing himself, the massacres and the robberies of September, in order to
uphold die municipal authority by terror ; and afterwards despatching emis-
saries over all France to recommend the same crimes and to induce the pro-
vinces tq acknowledge the supremacy and die authority of Paris. Robes-
pierre, added Louvet, wished to destroy the national representation, in order
to substitute for it the commune which he swayed, and to give us the govern-
ment of Rome, where, under the name of municipia, the provinces were
subject to the sovereignty of the metropolis. Thus, master of Paris, which
would have been mistress of France, he would have become the successor
of overthrown royalty. Seeing, however, the meeting of a new assembly
near at hand, he had passed from the general council to the electoral assem-
bly, and directed the votes by terror, in order to make himself master of the
Convention by means of the deputation of Paris.
It was he, Robespierre, who had recommended to the electors that man
of blood whose incendiary placards had filled France with surprise and hor-
ror. That libeller, with whose name Louvet would not, he said, soil his
lips, was but the spoiled child of murder, who possessed a courage for
preaching up crime and calumniating the purest citizens, in which the cau-
tious Robespierre was deficient. As for Danton, Louvet excluded him from
the accusation, nay, he was astonished that he should have ascended the
tribune to repel an attack which was not directed against him. He did not,
however, separate him from the perpetrations of September, because, in
those disastrous days, when all the authorities, the Assembly, the ministers,
the mayor, spoke in vain to stop the massacres, the minister of justice alone
did not speak: because, lasdy, in the notorious placards, he alone was ex-
cepted from the calumnies poured forth upon the purest of the citizens.
"And canst thou," exclaimed Louvet, "canst thou, 0 Danton, clear thyself
in the eyes of posterity from this dishonouring exception?" These words,
equally generous and imprudent, were loudly cheered.
This accusation, continually applauded, had not, however, been heard
424 HISTORY OF THE
without many murmurs. " Procure silence for me," Louvet had said to die
president, "for I am going to touch the sore, and the patient will cry out."
M Keep your word," said Danton ; " touch the sore." And whenever mur-
murs arose, there were cries of " Silence ! silence, sore ones!"
Louvet at last summed up his charges. " I accuse thee, Robespierre,"
he exclaimed, " of having calumniated the purest citizens, and of having done
so on the day when calumnies were proscriptions. I accuse thee of having
put thyself forward as an object of idolatry, and of having spread abroad that
thou wert the oidy man capable of saving France. I accuse thee of having
vilified, insulted, and persecuted the national representation, of having tyran-
nized over the electoral assembly of Paris, of having aimed at the supreme
power by calumny, violence, and terror — and I demand a committee to in-
vestigate thy conduct." Louvet then proposed a law condemning to banish-
ment every one who should make his name a subject of division among the
citizens. He proposed that to the measures the plan of which the commis-
sion of nine was preparing, should be added a new one, for placing the armed
force at the disposal of the minister of the interior. " Lastly," said he, " I
demand on the spot a decree of accusation against Marat ! . . . Heavens !"
he exclaimed, " O heavens ! I have named him !"
Robespierre, stunned by the applause lavished on his adversary, desired
to be heard. Amidst the uproar and murmurs excited by his presence, he
hesitated ; his features were distorted, his voice faltered. He nevertheless
obtained a hearing and demanded time to prepare his defence. He was
allowed time, and his defence was adjourned to the 5th of November. This
delay was fortunate for the accused, for the Assembly, excited by Louvet,
was filled with strong indignation.
In the evening, there was great agitation at the Jacobins, where all die
sittings of the Convention were reviewed. A great number of members
hurried in dismay to relate the horrid conduct of Louvet, and to demand
the erasure of his name. He had calumniated the society, inculpated Dan-
ton, Santerre, Robespierre, and Marat. He had even demanded an accusa-
tion against the two latter, proposed sanguinary laws, which attacked the
liberty of the press, and lastly, proposed the Athenian ostracism. Legendre
said that it was a concerted trick, since Louvet had his speech ready pre-
pared, and that Roland's report had evidently no other object than to furnish
an occasion for this diatribe.
Fabre d'Eglantine complained that scandal was daily increasing, and that
people were bent on calumniating Paris and the patriots. "By connecting,"
said he, "petty conjectures with petty suppositions, people make out a vast
conspiracy, and yet they will not tell us either where it is, or who are the
agents and what the means. If there were a man who had seen everything,
appreciated everything, in both parties, you could not doubt that this man,
a friend to truth, would he the very person to make known die truth. That
man is Petion. Force his virtue to tell all that he has seen, and to speak
out concerning the crimes imputed to the patriots. Whatever delicacy he
may feel for his friends, I dare affirm that intrigues have not corrupted him.
Petion is still pure and sincere. He wanted to speak to-day. Force him
to explain himself."*
* Among the coolest and most impartial minds of the Revolution must be placed Petion.
No one has formed a soander judgment of the two parlies which divided the Convention.
His equity was so well known, that both sides agreed to choose him for their umpire. The
accusations which took place at the very opening of die Assembly excited warm disputes
at the Jacobins. Fabre d'Eglantine proposed that the matter should be referred to Pe
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 425
Merlin disapproved of making Petion judge between Robespierre and
Louvet because it was violating equality thus to set up one citizen as the
(ion's decision. On this subject he thus expressed himself in the sitting of October 29,
1792:
" There is another way which I think useful and which will produce a greater effect
Almost always when any vast intrigue has been on foot, it has had need of power. It has
been obliged to make great efforts to attach a great personal credit to itself. If there existed
a man who had seen everything, who had appreciated everything in both parties, you could
not doubt that this man, a friend to truth, would be most fit to make it known. Well,
I propose that you invite this man, a member of your society, to pronounce upon the crimes
that are imputed to the patriots. Force his virtue to tell all that he has seen — that man is
Petion. Whatever partiality a man may have for his friends, I venture to assert that
intriguers have not corrupted Petion ; he is still pure, still sincere. I say so here. I fre-
quently talk to him in the Convention, in moments of agitation, and he always tells me
that he grieves. I see that he does grieve — inwardly. This morning he determined to
ascend the tribune. He cannot refuse to write you his opinion, and we shall see if intriguers
can divert him from it
" Observe, citizens, that this step of itself will prove that you seek noming but the truth.
It is an homage which you pay to the virtue of a good patriot, with the more urgent motives,
since liars have wrapped themselves up in his virtue to give themselves consequence. I
demand that the motion be put to the vote." (Applause.)
Legendre then spoke. " The thing was contrived, that is evident. The distribution of
Brissot's speech, the report of the minister of the interior, the speech of Louvet, brought in
his pocket, all proved that the matter was concerted. The speech of Brissot on the erasure
contains all that Louvet has said. The report of Roland was intended to furnish Louvet
with an opportunity for speaking. I approve of Fabre's motion; the Convention will soon
pronounce ; Robespierre is to be heard on Monday. I beg the society to suspend the deci-
sion. It is impossible that in a free country virtue should succumb to crime."
After this quotation, I think it right to introduce the paper written by Petion, relative to
the dispute between Louvet and Robespierre. This paper and the extracts given elsewhere
from Garat, contain the most valuable particulars respecting the conduct and character of the
men of that time, and they are documents which history ought to preserve as most capable
of conveying just ideas of that epoch.
" Citizens, I had determined to observe the most absolute silence relative to the events
which have occurred since the 10th of August; motives of delicacy and solicitude for the
public welfare decided me to use this reserve.
" But it is impossible to be silent any longer : on both sides my testimony is called for ;
every one urges me to declare my sentiments ; I will tell with frankness what I know of
men, what I think of things.
" I have been a near spectator of the scenes of the Revolution. I have seen the cabals,
the intrigues, the tumultuous struggles between tyranny and liberty, between vice and
virtue.
" When the working of the human passions is laid bare, when we perceive the secret
springs which have directed the most important operations, when we know all the perils
which liberty has incurred, when we penetrate into the abyss of corruption which threatened
every moment to ingulf us, we ask ourselves with astonishment by what series of prodigies
we have arrived at the point where we this day are !
"Revolutions ought to be seen at a distance ; this veil is highly necessary to them ; ages
efface the stains which darken them ; posterity perceives only the results. Our descendants
will deem us great Let us render them better than ourselves.
" I pass over the circumstances anterior to that ever-memorable day, which erected liberty
upon the ruins of tyranny, and changed the monarchy into a republic.
" The men who have attributed to themselves the glory of that day are the men to whom it
least belongs : it is due to those who prepared it ; it is due to the imperious nature of things ;
it is due to the brave federalists, and to their secret directory, which had long been concerting
the plan of the insurrection ; it is due to the people ; lastly, it is due to the guardian spirit
which has constantly presided over the destinies of France ever since the first assembly of
her representatives.
" Success, it must be admitted, was for a moment uncertain ; and those who are really
acquainted with the particulars of that day know who were the intrepid defenders of the
country, that prevented the Swiss and all the satellites of despotism trom remaining masters
vol. i. — 54 2 N 2
426 HISTORY OF THE
supreme judge of others. "Besides," said he, " Petion is no doubt a
respectable man, but, should he swerve ! ... is he not man ? Is not Petion
of the field of battle, and who they were that rallied the civic legions, which were for a mo-
ment staggered.
" That day had been brought about too without the concurrence of the commissioners
of several sections assembled at the house of the commune. The members of the old
municipality, who had not separated the whole night, were still sitting at half-past nine in
the morning.
" These commissioners conceived, nevertheless, a grand idea, and took a bold step by pos-
sessing themselves of all the municipal powers, and in stepping into the place of a general
council, of whose weakness and corruption they were apprehensive. They courageously
risked their lives in case success should not justify the enterprise.
" Had these confrnissioners been wise enough to lay down their authority at the right time,
to return to the rank of private citizens after the patriotic action which they had performed,
they would have covered themselves with glory ; but they could not withstand the allurement
of power, and the ambition of governing took possession of them.
" In the first intoxicating moments of the triumph of liberty, and after so violent a com-
motion, it was impossible that everything should be instantly restored to tranquillity and to
its accustomed order; it would have been unjust to require this: the new council of the
commune was then assailed with reproaches that were not well founded, and that proved an
ignorance both of its situation and of circumstances; but these commissioners began
to deserve them, when they themselves prolonged the revolutionary movement beyond the
proper time.
" The National Assembly had spoken out ; it had assumed a grand character ; it had
passed decrees which saved the empire ; it had suspended the King ; it had effaced the line
of demarcation which divided the citizens into two classes ; it had called together the Con-
vention. The royalist party was cast down. It was necessary thenceforth to rally round
it, to fortify it with opinion, to environ it with confidence ; duty and sound policy dictated
this course.
" The commune deemed it more glorious to vie with the Assembly. It began a struggle
likely only to throw discredit on all that had passed, to induce a belief that the Assembly
was under the irresistible yoke of circumstances ; it obeyed or withstood decrees according
as they favoured or thwarted its views ; in its representations to the legislative body it used
imperious and irritating language ; it affected power, and knew not either how to enjoy its
triumphs or to cause them to be forgiven.
" Pains had been successfully taken to persuade some that, so long as the revolutionary
state lasted, power had reverted to its source, that the National Assembly was without cha-
racter, that its existence was precarious, and that the communal assemblies were the only
legal depositories of authority.
" To others it had been insinuated that the leaders of opinion in the National Assembly
entertained perfidious designs, and intended to overthrow liberty, and to deliver the republic
into the hands of foreigners.
" Hence a great number of members of the council conceived that they wore exercising a
legitimate right when they usurped authority, that they were resisting oppression when they
opposed the law, and that they were performing an act of civism when they were violating
their duties as citizens ; nevertheless, amidst this anarchy, the commune from time to time
passed salutary resolutions.
" I had been retained in my office ; but it was now merely an empty title ; I sought its
functions to no purpose ; they were dispersed among a thousand hands, and everybody exer-
cised them.
41 1 went during the first days to the council. I was alarmed at the tumult which prevailed
in that assembly, and still more at the spirit by which it was swayed. It was no longer an
administrative body, deliberating on the communal affairs ; it was a political assembly, deem-
ing itself invested with full powers, discussing the great interests of the state, examining the
laws enacted, and promulgating new ones ; nothing was there talked of but plots against the
public liberty ; citizens were denounced ; they were summoned to the bar, they were publicly
examined, they were tried, they were dismissed, acquitted, or confined ; the ordinary rules
were set aside. Such was the agitation of the public mind, that it was impossible to control
this torrent ; all the deliberations were carried on with tho impetuosity of enthusiasm ; they
followed one another with frightful rapidity ; night and day there was no interruption ; the
council was continually sitting.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 427
a friend of Brissot, and of Roland ? Does not Petion admit to his house La-
source, Vergniaud, Barbaroux, all the intriguers who are compromising
liberty ?"
" I would not have my name attached to a multitude of acts so irregular, so contrary to
sound principles.
" I was equally sensible how wise and how useful it would be not to approve, not to
sanction by my presence, all that was done. Those members of the council who were
afraid to see me there, who were annoyed at my attendance, strongly desired that the people,
whose confidence I retained, should believo that I presided over its operations, and that no-
thing was done but in concert with mo ; my reserve on this point increased their enmity ;
but they durst not display it too openly, for fear of displeasing the people, whose favour they
coveted.
" I rarely attended ; and the conduct which I pursued in this very delicate situation between
the old municipality, which complained of its removal, and the new one which pretended to
be legally instituted, was not unserviceable to the public tranquillity ; for, if I had then pro-
nounced decisively for or against, I should have occasioned a rupture that might have been
attended with most mischievous consequences. In everything there is a point of maturity
which it is requisite to know how to seize.
"The administration was neglected; the mayor was no longer a centre of unity ; all the
threads that I held in my hand were cut ; the power was dispersed ; the action of superin-
tendence was destitute of power ; the restraining action was equally so.
" Robespierre assumed, then, the ascendency in the council, and it could scarcely have
been otherwise under the circumstances in which we were, and with the temper of his mind.
I heard him deliver a speech, which grieved me to the soul ; the decree for opening the bar-
riers was under discussion, and on this topic he launched out into extremely animated decla-
mations, full of the extravagances of a gloomy imagination ; he saw precipices beneath his
feet, plots for the destruction of liberty ; he pointed out the alleged conspirators ; he ad-
dressed himself to the people, heated their minds, and produced in his hearers the strongest
ferment
" I replied to this speech for the purpose of restoring calmness, dispelling those dark illu-
sions, and bringing back the discussion to the only point that ought to occupy the attention
of the assembly.
■ Robespierre and his partisans were thus hurrying the commune into inconsiderate pro-
ceedings— into extreme courses.
■ I was not on this account suspicious of the intentions of Robespierre. I found more fault
with his head than with his heart ; but the consequences of these gloomy visions excited in
me not the less apprehension.
"The tribunes of the council rang every day with violent invectives. The members could
not persuade themselves that they were magistrates, appointed to carry the laws into execu-
tion and to maintain order. They always considered themselves as forming a revolutionary
association.
" The assembled sections received this influence, and communicated it in their turn, so that
all Paris was at once in a ferment.
" The committee of surveillance of the commune filled the prisons. It cannot be denied
that, if several of its arrests were just and necessary, others amounted to a stretch of the law.
The chiefs were not so much to be blamed for this as their agents ; the police had bad ad-
visers ; one man in particular, whose name has become a by-word, whose name alone strikes
terror into the souls of all peaceable citizens, seemed to have seized the direction of its move-
ments. Assiduous in his attendance at all conferences, he interfered in all matters; he
talked, he ordered, like a master. I complained loudly of this to the commune, and I con-
cluded ray opinion in these words : ' Marat is either the most wrongheaded or the most wicked
of men.' From that day I have never mentioned him.
" Justice was slow in pronouncing upon the fate of the prisoners, and the prison became
more and more crowded. On the 23d of August, a section came in deputation to the council
of the commune, and formally declared that the citizens, tired of and indignant at the delay
of judgment, would break open the doors of those asylums, and sacrifice the culprits confined
in them to their vengeance This petition, couched in the most furious language, met
with no censure ; nay, it received applause !
" On the 25th, from one thousand to twelve hundred armed citizens set out from Paris to
remove the state prisoners confined at Orleans to other places.
428 HISTORY OF THE
Fabre's motion was withdrawn, and Robespierre the younger, assuming
a lugubrious tone, as the relatives of accused persons were accustomed to do
" Disastrous intelligence arrived to increase still more the agitation of the public mind ; the
treason of Longwy became known, and some days afterwards, the siege of Verdun.
41 On the 27th, the National Assembly invited the department of Paris, and those contiguous
to it, to furnish thirty thousand armed men, to be despatched to the frontiers. This decree
excited a fresh sensation, which combined with that already prevailing.
"On the 31st, the acquittal of Montmorin produced a popular commotion. It was ru-
moured that he had been saved through the perfidy of an emissary of the King, who had led
the jurors into error.
" At the same moment a revelation of a plot made by a condemned person was published
— a plot tending to effect the escape o'f all the prisoners, who were then to spread themselves
through the city, to commit all sorts of excesses, and to carry off the King.
" Agitation was at its height The commune, in order to excite the enthusiasm of the
citizens, and to induce them to enrol themselves the more freely, had resolved that they should
assemble with great parade in the Champ de Mars amidst the discharge of cannon.
" The 2d of September arrived. Oh, day of horror ! The alarm-gun was fired, the tocsin
rang. At this doleful and alarming sound, a mob collected, broke into the prisons, murder-
ing and slaughtering. Manuel and several deputies of the National Assembly repaired to
those scenes of carnage. Their efforts were useless ; the victims were sacrificed in their very
arms ! I was, meanwhile, in a false security ; I was ignorant of these cruelties ; for some
time past, nothing whatever had been communicated to me. At length I was informed of
them, but how 1 in a vague, indirect, disfigured manner. I was told at the same time that
all was over. The most afflicting particulars afterwards reached me ; but I felt thoroughly
convinced that the day which had witnessed such atrocious scenes could never return. They
nevertheless continued: I wrote to the commandant-general. I required him to despatch
forces to the prisons ; at first he gave me no answer. I wrote again. He told me that he
had given his orders ; nothing indicated that those orders were attended to. Still they con-
tinued : I went to the council of the commune ; thence I repaired to the hotel of La Force
with several of my colleagues. The street leading to that prison was crowded with very
peaceable citizens; a weak guard was at the door; I entered Never will the spectacle
that I there beheld be effaced from my memory. I saw two municipal officers in their scarfs ;
I saw three men quietly seated at a table, with lists of the prisoners lying open before them :
these were calling over the names of the prisoners. Other men were examining them, others
performing the office of judges and jurors ; a dozen executioners, with bare arms, covered
with blood, some with clubs, others with swords and cutlasses dripping with gore, were
executing the sentences forthwith ; citizens outside awaiting these sentences — with impa-
tience observing the saddest silence at the decrees of death, and raising shouts of joy at those
of acquittal.
" And the men who sat as judges, and those who acted as executioners, felt the same
security as if the law had called them to perform those functions. They boasted to me of
their justice, of their aUention to distinguish the innocent from the guilty, of the service*
which they had rendered. They demanded — will it be believed ! — they demanded pay-
ment for the time they had been so employed ! .... I was really confounded to hear them !
" I addressed to them the austere language of the law. I spoke to them with the feeling
of profound indignation with which I was penetrated. I made them all leave the place
before me. No sooner had I gone myself than they returned ; I went back to the places to
drive them away ; but in the night they completed their horrid butchery.
"Were these murders commanded — were they directed, by any persons? I have had
lists before me, I have received reports, and I have collected particulars. If I had to pro-
nounce as judge, I could not say, This is the culprit
" It is my opinion that those crimes would not have had such free scope, that they might
have been stopped, if all those who had power in their hands and energy bad viewed them
with horror; but I will affirm, because it is true, that several of these public men, of these
defenders of the country, conceived that those disastrous and disgraceful proceedings were
necessary, that they purged the empire of dangerous persons, that they struck terror into
the souls of the conspirators, and that these crimes, morally odious, were politically
serviceable.
" Yes this is what cooled the zeal of those to whom the law had committed the mainte-
nance of order — of those to whom it had assigned the protection of persons and property.
"It is obvious how the 2d, 3d, 4 th, and 5th of September may be connected with the ira-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 429
at Rome, complained that he was not calumniated like his brother. " It is
a moment," said he, " of the greatest danger. All the people are not for
mortal 10th of August ; how the former may be represented aa a sequel to the revolutionary
movement imparted on that day, the first in the annals of the republic ; but I cannot bring
myself to confound glory with infamy, and to stain the 10th of August with the atrocities of
the 2d of Septcml»er.
" The committee of surveillance actually issued an order for the arrest of Roland, the
minister. This was on the 4th, and the massacres still continued. Danton was informed
of it ; he came to the mairie .• he was with Robespierre ; he warmly inveighed against this
arbitrary, this mad act ; it would have ruined, not Roland, but those who decreed it ; Danton
obtained its revocation ; it was buried in oblivion.
" I had an explanation with Robespierre ; it was very warm. To his face I have never
spared those reproaches which friendship has tempered in his absence. I said to him, ' Ro-
bespierre, you are doing a great deal of mischief. Your denunciations, your alarms, your
animosities, your suspicions, agitate the people. But come, explain yourself. Have yon
facts] have you proofs t I am ready to meet you ; I am attached to truth alone ; I want but
liberty.'
" ' You suffer yourself to be surrounded, you suffer yourself to be prepossessed,' said he ;
'you are biassed against me; you sesj my enemies everyday; you see Brissot and his
party.'
■ ' You are mistaken, Robespierre. No man is more on his guard than myself against
prepossessions, or judges more coolly of men and things. I see Brissot, it is true, though
very rarely : but you do not know him, whereas I have known him from a boy. I have
6een him in those moments when the whole soul exhibits itself to view, when it abandons
itself without reserve to friendship and confidence. I know his disinterestedness, I know his
principles, and I protest to you that they are pure. Those who make a party leader of him
have not the slightest idea of his character ! he possesses intelligence, and knowledge, but
he has neither the reserve, nor the dissimulation, nor the insinuating manners, nor that
spirit of sequence, which constitute a party leader, and what will surprise you is that, instead
of leading others, he is very easily misled himself.'
" Robespierre persisted in his opinion, but confined himself to generalities. ' Do let us
understand one another,' said I: ' tell me frankly what you have upon your mind, what you
know.'
" ' Well, then,' he replied, • I believe that Brissot is with Brunswick.'
" • What an egregious mistake !' I exclaimed : * nay, it is truly insanity : that is the way
in which your imagination misleads you : would not Brunswick be the first to cut off his
head 1 Brissot is not silly enough to doubt it. Which of us seriously can capitulate? which
of us does not risk his life 1 Let us banish unjust suspicions.'
■ I return to the events of which I have given you a faint sketch. These events, and some
of those which preceded the celebrated 10th of August, an attentive consideration of the facts
and of a multitude of circumstances, have induced a belief that intriguers were striving to
make a tool of the people, in order with the people to make themselves masters of the
supreme authority. Robespierre has been openly named ; his connexions have been exa-
mined, his conduct analyzed ; an expression dropped, it is said, by one of his friends, has been
caught up, and it has been inferred that Robespierre cherished the mad ambition of becoming
the dictator of his country.
" The character of Robespierre accounts for his actions. Robespierre is extremely suspi-
cious and distrustful. He everywhere perceives plots, treasons, precipices. His bilious
temperament, his splenetic imagination, present all objects to him in gloomy colours. Impe-
rious in his opinion, listening to none but himself, impatient of contradiction, never forgiving
any one who may have hurt his self-love, and never acknowledging himself in the wrong ;
denouncing on the slightest grounds and irritating himself on the slightest suspicion, always
conceiving that people are watching and designing to persecute him ; boasting of himself
and talking without reserve of his services ; an utter stranger to decorum, and thus injuring
the cause which he defends ; coveting above all things the favour of the people, continually
paying court to them, and earnestly seeking their applause ; it is this, it is, above all, this
last weakness that, mixing itself up with all the acts of his public life, has induced a belief
that Robespierre aspired to high destinies, and that he wanted to usurp the dictatorial power.
" For my part, I cannot persuade myself that this chimera has seriously engaged his
thoughts, that it has been the object of his wishes and the aim of his ambition.
" He is, nevertheless, a man who has intoxicated himself with this fantastic notion, who
430 HISTORY OF THE
us. It is only the citizens of Paris who are sufficiently enlightened : the
others are so but in a very imperfect degree. It is possible, therefore, that
innocence may succumb on Monday ; for the Convention has heard out the
long lie of LouveU " Citizens !" he exclaimed, " I have had a terrible
fright. Methought assassins were going to butcher my brother. I have
heard men say that he would perish by such hands only. Another told me
that he would gladly be his executioner."* At these words, several mem-
bers rose, and declared that they too had been threatened, that it was by
Barbaroux, by Rebecqui, and by several citizens in the tribunes ; that those
who threatened them said, " We must get rid of Marat and Robespierre."
The members then thronged around the younger Robespierre and promised
to protect his brother ; and it was determined that all those who had friends
or relatives in the departments should write for the purpose of enlightening
the public opinion. Robespierre the younger, on leaving the tribune, did
not fail to add a calumny. Anacharsis Cloots, he said, had assured him that
he was every day breaking lances at Roland's against federalism.
Next came the fiery Chabot. What particularly offended him in Louvet's
speech was, that he attributed the lOdi oUAugust to himself and his friends,
and the 2d of September to two hundred murderers. " Now," said Chabot,
" I myself well remember that, on the evening of the 9th of August, I
addressed myself to the gentlemen of the right side, to propose the insurrec-
tion to them, and that they replied by curling up their lips into a smile. I
know not then what right they have to attribute to themselves the 10th of
August. As for the 2d of September, its author is also that same populace
which produced the 10th of August in spite of them, and which, after the
victory, wished to avenge itself. Louvet asserts that there were not two
hundred murderers, and I can assure him that I passed with the commis-
sioners of the Legislative Assembly, under an arch of ten thousand swords. I
recognised more than one hundred and fifty federalists. There are no
crimes in revolutions. Marat, so vehemently accused, is persecuted solely
for revolutionary acts. To-day Marat, Danton, Robespierre, are accused.
To-morrow it will be Santerre, Chabot, Merlin," &c.
Excited by this audacious harangue, a federalist, present at the sitting
did what no man had yet publicly dared to do. He declared that he was
at work with a great, number of his comrades in the prisons, and that he
believed he was only putting to death conspirators and forgers of false
assignats, and saving Paris from massacre and conflagration. He added that
he thanked the society for the kindness which it had shown to them all,
that they should set out the next day for the army» and should carry with
them but one regret, that of leaving patriots in such great dangers.
This atrocious declaration terminated the sitting. Robespierre had not
made his appearanoe, neither did he appear during the whole week, being
engaged in arranging his answer, and leaving his partisans to prepare the
public opinion. The commune of Paris persisted meanwhile in its conduct
has never ceased to call for a dictatorship in France, as a blessing, as the only government
that could save us from the anarchy that he preached, that could lead us to liberty and hap-
piness ! He solicited this tyrannical power, for whom 1 You would never believe it; you
are not aware of the full extent of the delirium of his vanity ; he solicited it for whom, yea,
for whom, but Marat ! If his folly were not ferocious, there would be nothing so ridiculous
as that creature on whom Nature seems purposely to have set the seal of reprobation."
• " Young Robespierre was, what might be called, an agreeable young man, animated by
no bad sentiments, and believing, or feigning to believe, that his brother was led on by a
parcel of wretches, every one of whom he would banish to Cayenne, if he were hi his
place." — Duchess cTAbrantet.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 431
t
and its system. It was alleged that it had taken not less than ten millions
from the chest of Septeuil, treasurer of the civil list ; and at that very mo-
ment it was circulating a petition to the forty-four municipalities against the
plan for giving a guard to the Convention. Barbaroux immediately pro-
posed four formidable and judiciously conceived decrees :
By the first, the capital was to lose the right of being the seat of the na-
tional representation, when it could no longer find means to protect it from
insult or violence.
By the second, the federalists and the national gendarmes were, conjointly
with the armed sections of Paris, to guard the national representation and
the public establishments.
By the third, the Convention was to constitute itself a court of justice for
the purpose of trying the conspirators.
By the fourth and last, the Convention was to cashier the municipality
of Paris.
These four decrees were perfecdy adapted to circumstances, and suitable
to the real dangers of the moment, but it would have required all the power
that could only be given by the decrees themselves in order to pass them.
To create energetic means, energy is requisite ; and every moderate party
which strives to check a violent party is in a vicious circle, which it can
never get out of. No doubt the majority, inclining to the Girondius, might
have been able to carry the decrees ; but it was its moderation that made it
incline to them, and this very moderation counselled it to wait, to temporize,
to trust to the future, and to avoid all measures that were prematurely ener-
getic. The Assembly even rejected a much less rigorous decree, the first
of those which the commission of nine had been charged to draw up. It
was proposed by Buzot, and related to the instigators of murder and confla-
gration. All direct instigation was to be punished with death, and indirect
instigation with ten years' imprisonment. The Assembly considered the
penalty for direct instigation too severe, and indirect instigation too vaguely
defined and too difficult to reach. To no purpose did Buzot insist that
revolutionary and consequently arbitrary measures were required against the
adversaries who were to be combated. He was not listened to, neither
could he be, when addressing a majority which condemned revolutionary
measures in the violent party itself, and was therefore very unlikely to employ
them against it. The law was consequendy adjourned; and the commission
of nine, appointed to devise means of maintaining good order, became, in a
manhcr, useless.
The Assembly, however, manifested more energy, when the question of
checking the excesses of the commune came under discussion. It seemed
then to defend its authority with a sort of jealousy and energy. The gene-
ral council of the commune, summoned to the bar on occasion of the petition
against the plan of a departmental guard, came to justify itself. It was not
the same body, it alleged, as on the 10th of August. It had contained pre-
varicators. They had been jusdy denounced and were no longer among
its members. "Confound not," it added, "the innocent with the guilty.
Bestow on us the confidence which we need. We are desirous of restor-
ing the tranquillity necessary for the Convention, in order to the enactment
of good laws. As for the presentation of this petition, it was the sections
that insisted upon it ; we are only their agents, but we will persuade than
to withdraw it."
This submission disarmed the Girondins themselves, and, at the request
of Gensonne, the honours of the sitting were granted to the general council.
432 HISTORY OF THE
•
This docility of the administrators might well gratify the pride of the As-
sembly, but it proved nothing as to the real disposition of Paris. The tumult
increased, as the 5th of November, the day fixed for hearing Robespierre,
approached. On the pfeceding day there were outcries in a contrary spirit.
Bands went through the streets, some shouting : " To the guillotine, Robes-
pierre, Danton, Marat !"— others, " Death to Roland, Lasource, Guadet !"
Complaints were made on this subject at the Jacobins, but no notice was
taken, except of the cries against Robespierre, Danton, and Marat. These
cries were laid to the charge of dragoons and federalists, who at that time
were still devoted to the Convention. Robespierre the younger again
appeared in the tribune, deplored the dangers which beset innocence, con-
demned a plan of conciliation proposed by a member of the society, saying
that the opposite party was decidedly counter-revolutionary, and that neither
peace nor truce ought to be made with it; that no doubt innocence would
perish in the struggle, but it was requisite that it should be sacrificed, and
Maximilien Robespierre must be suffered to fall, because the ruin of one
individual would not be attended with that of liberty. All the Jacobins
applauded these fine sentiments, assuring the younger Robespierre that
nothing of the sort would happen, and that his brother should not perish.
Complaints of a contrary kind were preferred to the Assembly, and there
the shouts against Roland, Lasource, and Guadet, Were denounced. Roland
complained of the inefficacy of his requisitions to the department and to the
commune, to obtain an armed force. Much discussion ensued, reproaches
were exchanged, and the day passed without the adoption of any measure.
At length, on the following day, November the 5th, Robespierre appeared
in the tribune.
The concourse was great, and the result of this solemn discussion was
awaited with impatience. Robespierre's speech was very long and care-
fully composed. His answers to Louvet's accusations were such as a man
never fails to make in such a case. "You accuse me," said he, "of aspir
ing to tyranny ; but, in order to attain it, means are required ; and where
are my treasures and my armies? You allege that I have reared at the
Jacobins the edifice of my power. But what does this prove ? Only that
I have been heard with more attention, that I appealed perhaps more forci-
bly than you to the reason of that society, and that you are but striving
here to revenge the wounds inflicted on your vanity. You pretend that this
celebrated society has degenerated ; but demand a decree of acousation
against it, I will then take care to justify it, and we shall see if you wiK
prove more successful or more persuasive than Leopold and Lafayette
Vou assert that I did not appear at the commune till two days after the lOtk
of August, and that I then, of my own authority, installed myself at the
bureau. But, in the first place, I was not called to it sooner, and when I
did appear at the bureau, it was not to instal myself there, but to have my
powers verified. You add that I insulted the Legislative Assembly, that I
threatened it with the tocsin. The assertion is false. Some one placed
near me accused tm of sounding the tocsin. I replied to the speaker that
they were the ringers of the tocsin, who by injustice soured people's minds ;
and then one of my colleagues, less reserved, added that it would be sounded.
Such is the simple fact on which my accuser has built this fable. In the
electoral assembly, I have spoken, but it was agreed upon that this liberty
might be taken. I made some observations, and several others availed them
selves of the same privilege. I have neither accused nor recommended any
one. That man, whom you charge me with making use of, was never
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 433
either my friend, or recommended by me. Were I to judge him by those
who attack, him, he would stand acquitted, but 1 decide not. I shall merely
say that he has ever been a stranger to me ; that once fee came to my house,
when I made some observations on his writings, on their exaggeration, and
on the regret felt by the patriots at teeing him compromise our cause by the
violence of his opinions ; but he set me down for a politician having narrow
views, and published this the very next day. It is a calumny then to sup-
pose me to be the instigator and the ally of this man."
ling from these personal accusations to the general charges directed
against the commune, Robespierre repeated, with all his defenders, that the
M of September was the sequel to the 10th of August ; that it is impossible,
after the event, to mark the precise point where the billows of popular insur-
rection must have broken ; that the executions were undoubtedly illegal, but
that without illegal measures despotism could not be shaken off; that the
whole Revolution was liable to the same reproach ; for everything in it was
illegal, both the overthrow of the throne and the capture of the Bastille.
He then described the dangers of Paris, the indignation of the citizens,
their concourse around the prisons, and their irresistible fury, on thinking
that they should leave behind them conspirators who would butcher their
families. " It is affirmed that one innocent man has perished," exclaimed
the speaker with emphasis, " one only, and that one a great deal too much,
most assuredly. Lament, citizens, this cruel mistake ! We have long
lamented it ; this was a good citizen ; he was one of our friends ! Lament
even the victims who ought to have been reserved for the vengeance of the
laws, but who fell beneath the sword of popular justice ! But let your
grief have an end, like all human things. Let U9 reserve some tears for
more touching calamities. Weep for one hundred thousand patriots immo-
lated by tyranny! Weep for our citizens expiring beneath their blazing
roofs, and the children of citizens slaughtered in their cradles or in the
arms of their mothers ! Weep humanity bowed down beneadi the yoke of
tyrants! . . . But cheer up, if, imposing silence on all base passions, you
are resolved to insure the happiness of your country, and to prepare that
of the world !
" I cannot help suspecting that sensibility which mourns almost exclu-
sively for the enemies of liberty. Cease to shake before my face the bloody
robe of the tyrant, or I shall believe that you intend to rivet Rome's fetters
upon her again !"
It was with this medley of subtle logic and revolutionary declamation, that
Robespierre contrived to captivate his auditory and to obtain unanimous ap-
plause. All that related to himself personally was just, and it was imprudent
on the part of the Girondins to stigmatize as a plan of usurpation that which
was as yet but an ambition of influence, rendered hateful by an envious dis-
position. It was imprudent to point out in the acts of the commune the
proofs of a vast conspiracy, when they exhibited nothing but the agitation of
popular passions. The Girondins thus furnished the Assembly with an
occasion to charge them with wronging their adversaries. Flattered, a> it
were to see the alleged leader of the conspirators forced to justify himself,
delighted to see all the crimes accounted for as the consequence of an insur-
rection thenceforward impracticable, and to dream of a happier future, the
Convention deemed it more dignified, more prudent, to put an end to all
these personalities. The order of the day was therefore moved. Louvet
rose to oppose it, and demanded permission to reply. A great number of
members presented themselves, desirous of speaking for, on, or against, the
vol. i. — 55 2 0 .
434 HISTORY OF THE
order of the day. Barbaroux, hopeless of gaining a hearing, rushed to the
bar that he might at least address the Assembly as a petitioner. Lanjuinais
proposed that the important questions involved in Roland's report should be
taken into consideration. At length, Barrere* obtained permission to speak.
" Citizens," said he, " if there existed in the republic a man Iwrn with the
genius of Caesar or the boldness of Cromwell, a man possessing the dan-
gerous means together with the talents of Sylla : if there existed here any
legislator of great genius, of vast ambition, or of a profound character; a
general, for instance, his brow wreathed with laurels, and returning among
you to dictate laws or to violate the rights of the people, I should move for
a decree of accusation against him. But that you should do this honour to
men of a day, to petty dabblers in commotion, to those whose civic crowns
are intwined with cypress, is what I am incapable of comprehending."
This singular mediator proposed to assign the following motive for the
order of the day : " Considering that the National Convention ought not to
occupy itself with any other interests than those of the republic" — " I
oppose your order of the day," cried Robespierre, if it contains a preamble
injurious to me." The Assembly adopted the pure and simple order of the
day.
The partisans of Robespierre hastened to the Jacobin* to celebrate this
victory, and he was himself received as a triumphant conqueror.! As soon
as he appeared, he was greeted with plaudits. A member desired that ho
might be permitted to speak, in order that lie might relate the proceedings
of the day. Another declared that his modesty would prevent his compli-
ance, and that he declined speaking. Robespierre, enjoying this enthusi
in silence, left to another the task of an adulatory harangue. He was called
Aristides. His natural and manly eloquence was lauded with an affectation
which proves how well known was his fondness for literary praise. The
Convention was reinstated in the esteem of the society, and il rled
that the triumph of truth had begun, and that there was now no occasion to
despair of the salvation of the republic.
Barrere was called to account for the manner in which he had expressed
himself respecting petty dabblers in commotion: and he laid bare his
character most completely by declaring that he alluded in those words not
to the ardent patriots accused with Robespierre, but to their adversaries.
Such was the result of that celebrated accusation. It was an absolute im-
• "Barrere is a sort of undefinable creature — a species of coffee-house wit He used to
go every day, after leaving the committee, to visit a female with whom Champcenetz lived.
He would remain with her till midnight, and would frequently say, 'To-morrow we shall get
rid of fifteen, twenty, or thirty of them.' When the woman expressed her horror of these
murders, he would reply, ' We must grease the wheels of the Revolution,' and then depart,
laughing." — Montgni third. E.
■J- "Robespierre, who afterwards played so terrible a part in our Revolution, began from this
memorable day to figure among its foremost ranks. This man, whose talents were but of an
ordinary kind, and whose disposition was vain, owed to his inferiority his late appearance on
the stage, which in revolutions is alwnys a great advantage. Rol>es|>irrrc had all the quali-
ties of a tyrant; a mind which was without grandeur, but which, nevertheless, was not
vulgar. He was a living proof that, in civil troubles, obstinate mediocrity is more powerful
than the irregularity of genius. It must also be allowed that Robespierre possessed the sup-
port of an immense fanatical sect, which derived its origin from the eighteenth century. It
took for its political symbol the absolute sovereignty of the ' Contrat Social' of J. J. Rousseau ;
and in matters of belief the deism contained in the Savoyard Vicar's confession of faith; and
succeeded for a brief space in realising them in th»* constitution of 1793, and in the worship
of tho Supreme Being. There were, indeed, in the various epochs of the Revolution, more
egotism, and more fanaticism than is generally believed." — Mignet. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION'. 435
prudence. The whole conduct of the Girondins is characterized by this
step. They felt a generous indignation ; they expressed it with talent, but
they mixed up with it so many personal animosities, so many false conjec-
M many chimerical suppositions, as to furnish those who loved to
6 themselves with a motive for disbelieving them, those who dreaded
an act of energy with a motive for concluding that there was no immediate
danger, and, lastly, those who affected impartiality with a motive for refusing
to adopt their conclusions : and these classes comprehended the whole Plain.
Among them, however, the wise Petion did not participate in their exagge-
is : he printed the speech which he had prepared, and in winch all
circumstances were duly appreciated. Vergniaud, whose reason and dis-
dainful indolence raised him above the passions, was likewise exempt from
their inconsistencies, and he maintained a profound silence. At the moment
the only result for the Girondins was that they had rendered reconciliation
impossible ; that they had even expended on a useless combat their most
powerful and only means, words and indignation ; and that they had aug-
mented the hatred and the fury of their enemies widiout gaining for them-
selves a single additional resource.*
• " The Girondins flattered themselves that a simple passing to the order of the day
would extinguish Robespierre's influence as completely as exile or death ; and they actually
joined with the Jacobins in preventing the reply of Louvet — a fatal error, which France had
caui=e to lament iru tears of blood! It was now evident that the Girondins were no match
for their terrible adversaries. The men of action on their side in vain strove to rouse them
to the necessity of vigorous measures. Their constant reply was, that they would not be
the first to commence the shedding of blood. Their whole vigour consisted in declamation
— their whole wisdom in abstract discussion. They were too honourable to believe in the
wickedness of their opponents ; too scrupulous to adopt the means requisite to crush them.'
— Alison. E.
END OF VOL. I.
^
u
THE
HISTORY
or
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
BY M. A. THIERS,
LATE PRIME MINISTER OF FRANCE.
TRANSLATED,
WITH NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM THE
MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES,
BY
FREDERICK SHOBERL.
THIRD AMERICAN EDITION.
COMPLETE IN FOUR VOLUMES,
WITH ENGRAVINGS.
VOL. II.
PHILADELPHIA:
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HISTORY
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
INVASION OF BELGIUM.
Wo to the vanquished when the victors disagree ! The latter suspend
their own quarrels, and seek to surpass each other in zeal to crush their
prostrate enemies. At the Temple were confined the prisoners on whom the
tempest of the revolutionary passions was about to burst. The monarchy,
the aristocracy, in short all the past, against which the Revolution was furi-
ously struggling, were personified, as it were, in the unfortunate Louis XVI.
The manner in which each should henceforth treat him was to be the test
of his hatred to the counter-revolution. The Legislative Assembly, too
closely succeeding the constitution which declared the King inviolable, had
not ventured to decide upon his fate ; it had suspended and shut him up in
the Temple ; it had not even abolished royalty, and had bequeathed to a
Convention the duty of judging all that belonged to the old monarchy,
whether material or personal. Now that royalty was abolished, the repub-
lic decreed, and the framing of the constitution was consigned to the medita-
tions of the most distinguished minds in the Assembly, the fate of Louis \ \ I .
yet remained to be considered.
Six weeks had elapsed, and a crowd of pressing affairs, the supply and
superintendence of the armies, the procuring of provisions, then scarce, as
in all times of public disturbance, the police, and all the details of the govern-
ment, which had been inherited from royalty, and transferred to an executive
council, merely to be continually reverted to with extreme diffidence ; lastly,
violent quarrels had prevented the Assembly from turning its attention to the
prisoners in the Temple. Once only had a motion been made concerning
them, ami that had been referred, as we have seen, to the committee of legis-
lation. At time, they were everywhere talked of. At the Jacobins
the trial of Louis XVI. was every day demanded, and the Girondins were
3
4 HISTORY OF THE
accused of deferring it by quarrels, in which, however, every one took as
great part and interest as themselves. On the first of November, in the
interval between the accusation of Robespierre and his apology, a section
having complained of new placards instigating to murder and sedition, the
opinion of Marat was asked, as it always was. The Girondins alleged that
he and some of his colleagues were the cause of all the disorder, and on
every fresh circumstance they proposed proceedings against them. Their
enemies, on the contrary, insisted that the cause of the troubles was at the
Temple; that' the new republic would not be firmly established, neither
would tranquillity and security be restored to it, till the ci-devant King should
be sacrificed, and that this terrible stroke would put an end to all the hopes
of the conspirators.* Jean de Bry, the deputy, who in the Legislative As-
sembly had proposed that no other rule of conduct should be followed but
the law of the public welfare, spoke on this occasion, and proposed that both
Marat and Louis XVI. should be brought to trial. " Marat," said he, " has
deserved the appellation of man-eater ; he would be worthy to be king. He
is the cause of the disturbances for which Louis XVI. is made the pretext.
Let us try them both, and insure the public quiet by this twofold example."
In consequence, the Convention directed that a report on the denunciations
against Marat should be presented before the Assembly broke up, and that,
in a week at latest, the committee of legislation should give its opinion re-
specting the forms to be observed at the trial of Louis XVI. If, at the expi-
ration of eight days, the committee had not presented its report, any member
would have a right to express his sentiments on this important question from
the tribune. Fresh quarrels and fresh engagements delayed the report
respecting Marat, which was not presented till long afterwards, and the com-
mittee of legislation prepared that which was required of it respecting the
august and unfortunate family confined in the Temple.
Europe had at this moment its eyes fixed on France. Foreigners beheld
with astonishment those subjects, at first deemed so feeble, now become
victorious and conquering, and audacious enough to set all thrones at defi-
ance. They watched with anxiety to see what they would do, and still
hoped that an end would soon be put to their audacity. Meanwhile, military
events were preparing to double the intoxication of the one, and to increase
the astonishment and the terror of the world.
Dumouriez had set out for Belgium at the latter end of October, and, on
the 25th, he had arrived at Valenciennes. His general plan was regulated
according to the idea which predominated in it, and which consisted in driv-
ing the enemy in front, and profiting by the great numerical superiority
which our army had over him. Dumouriez would have had it in his power,
by following the Meuse with the greater part of his forces, to prevent the
junction of Clairfayt, who was coming from Champagne, to take Duke
Albert in the rear, and to do what he was wrong not to have done at first,
for he neglected to run along the Rhine, and to follow that river to CIi
But his plan was now different, and he preferred to a scientific marcli a bril-
liant action, which would redouble the courage of his troops, already much
• "The Jacobins had several motives for urging this sacrifice. By placin? the King's life
in peril, they hoped to compel the Ciirondins openly to espouse his cause, and thereby to ruin
them without redemption in the eyes of the people ; by engaging the popular party in so
decisive a step, they knew that they would best preclude any chance of return to the royalist
government. They were desirous, moreover, of taking out of the hands of the Girondins,
and the moderate part of the Convention, the formation of a republican government." —
Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 5
raised by the cannonade of Valini, and which overthrew the notion current
in Europe for fifty years, that the Frencli* excellent lor coups de main, were
incapable of gaining a pitched batde. His superiority in number admitted
of such an attempt, and this idea was profound, as well as the inaniruvres
which he is reproached for not having employed. He did not, ho?
neglect to turn the enemy, and to separate him from Clairfayt. Valence,
placed for this purpose along the Meuse, was to march from (Jivet upon
Namur and Liege, with the army of Uic Ardennes, eighteen thousand strong.
D'llarville. with twelve thousand, was ordered to move between the grand
army and Valence, to turn the enemy at a less distance. Such were the
dispositions of Dumouriez on his right. On his left, Labourdonnaye, setting
out from Lille, was to march along the coast of Flanders, and to possess
himself of all the maritime towns. On reaching Antwerp, he was directed
to proceed along the Dutch frontier, and to join the Meuse at Kureinonde.
Belgium would thus be enclosed in a circle, the centre of which would be
occupied by Dumouriez with forty thousand men, who would thus be able
to overwhelm the enemy at any point where they should attempt to make
head against the French.
Impatient to take the field and to open for himself the vast career into
which his ardent imagination impetuously rushed, Dumouriez pressed the
arrival of the supplies, which had been promised him in Paris, and which
were to have been delivered on the 25th at Valenciennes. Servan had quitted
the ministry of war, and had preferred to the chaos of administration the less
arduous functions of commander of an army. He was recruiting his health
and his spirits in his camp at the Pyrenees. Roland had proposed, and
caused to be accepted as his successor, Pache,* a plain, intelligent, laborious
man, who, having formerly left France to reside in Switzerland, had returned
at the epoch of the Revolution, resigned a pension which he received from
the Marshal de Castrie, and distinguished himself in the office of the interior
by extraordinary talent and application. Carrying a piece of bread in his
pocket, and never quitting the office to take refreshments, he stuck to busi-
ness for whole days together, and had pleased Roland by his manners and
his assiduity. Servan had made application for him during his difficult
administration in August and September, and it was with regret, and only in
consideration of the importance of the business of the war department, that
Roland had given him up to Servan.
In his new post, Pache rendered as good service as in the former ; and
• " Jean Nic Pache, war minister, and afterwards mayor of Paris, son of the Marshal de
Castries's Swiss porter, received a liberal education, and, at the time of the Revolution, went
to Paris, and eagerly embraced the new ideas. An air of modesty and disinterestedness,
which seemed to exclude all ambition, gave him some weight with the revolutionary party.
He connected himself with Brissot, and first began to work under the ministers with a view
of becoming one himself. In 1792 he succeeded Servan in the war department. Pache,
having chosen his coadjutors from among persons new to office, who were anxious to figure
in the Jacobin society rather than to fulfil their duty, frequently gave cause of complaint. In
1793, he was made mayor of Paris, and appeared at the bar of the Convention, at the head
of a deputation of the sections, to demand the expulsion of Brissot and others of the Gironde
party. Having survived the Reign of Terror, he was accused by the Directory of various
arbitrary acts; but contrived to escape prosecution, and, quitting Paris in 1797, lived after-
wards in retirement and obscurity." — Biographie Modcrne. E.
" The peculation, or the profuse expenditure at least, that took place in the war department
during Pache's administration, was horrible. In the twenty-four hours that preceded his dis-
missal, he filled up sixty different places with all the persons he knew of, who were base
enough to pay their court to him, down to his very hairdresser, a blackguard boy of nineteen,
whom he made a muster-master." — Madame Rotund's Memoirs. E.
a2
I
HISTORY OF THE
when the place of minister at war became vacant, he was immediately pro-
posed to fill it, as one of those obscure but valuable men to whom justice
and the public interest must insure rapid favour.
Mild and modest, Pache pleased everybody, and could not fail to be ac-
cepted. The Girondins naturally reckoned upon the political moderation of
so quiet, so discreet, a man, and who, moreover, was indebted to them for
his fortune. The Jacobins, who found him full of deference for them, ex-
tolled his modesty, and contrasted it with what they termed the pride and
the harshness of Roland. Dumouriez, on his part, was delighted with a
minister who appeared to be more manageable than the Girondins, and more
disposed to follow his views. He had, in fact, a new subject of complaint
against Roland. The latter had written to him, in the name of the council,
a letter, in which he reproached him with being too desirous to force his
plans upon the ministry, and in which he expressed a distrust proportionate
to the talents that he was supposed to possess. Roland was well-meaning,
and what he said in the secrecy of correspondence he would have combated
in public. Dumouriez, misconceiving the honest intention of Roland,
had made his complaints to Pache, who had received them and soothed him
by his flattery for the jealousies of his colleagues. Such was the new
minister at war. Placed between the Jacobins, the Girondins, and Dumou-
riez, listening to the complaints of the one against the other, he won them
all by fair words and by deference, and caused all of them to hope to find in
him a second and a friend.
Dumouriez attributed to the changes in the offices the delay which he
experienced in the supply of the army. Only half of the munitions and
accoutrements which had been promised him had arrived, and he commenced
his march without waiting for the rest, writing to Pache that it was indis-
pensably requisite that, he should be furnished with thirty thousand pair of
shoes, twenty-five thousand blankets, camp necessaries for forty thousand
men, and, above all, two millions in specie, for the supply of the soldiers
who, on entering a country where assignats were not current, would have to
pay for every thing they purchased in ready money. He was promised all
that he demanded ; and Dumouriez, exciting the ardour of his troops, en-
couraging them by the prospect of a certain and speedy conquest, pushed
on with them, though destitute of what was necessary for a winter campaign,
and in so severe a climate.
The march of Valence, delayed by a diversion upon Longwy and the
want of military supplies of all sorts, which did not arrive till November,
permitted Clairfayt to pass without obstacle from Luxemburg into Belgium,
and to join Duke Albert with twelve thousand men. Dumouriez, giving op
for the moment his intention of employing Valence, made General d'Har-
ville's division move towards him, and inarching his troops between Qua-
rouble and Quievrain, hastened to overtake the hostile army. Duke Albert,
adhering to the Austrian system, had formed a cordon from Tournay to
Mons, and though he had thirty thousand men, he had scarcely twenty
thousand collected before the city of Mons. Dumouriez, pressing him
closely, arrived, on the 3d of November, before the mill of Boussu, and
ordered his advanced guard, commanded by the brave Beumonville, to dis-
lodge the enemy posted on the heights. The attack, at first successful, was
afterwards repulsed, and our advanced guard was obliged to retire. Dumou-
riez, sensible how important it was not to fall back on the first onset, airain
sent Beumonville forward, carried all the enemy's posts, and on the evening
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 7
of the 5th found himself in presence of the Austrians, intrenched on the
heights skirting the city of Mons.
On these heights, forming a circular range in front of the place, arc situated
inree Tillages, Jemappes, Cuesmes, and Berthaimont. The Austrians, who
Led to be attacked there, had formed the imprudent resolution of main-
taining their position, and had long been taking the greatest pains to render
it impregnable. Clairfayt occupied Jemappes and Cuesmes. A little farther,
Beaulieu* was encamped above Berth/umont. Rapid slopes, woods, abattis,
fourteen redoubts, a formidable artillery ranged stage-wise, and twenty thou-
sand men, protected these positions and rendered approach to them almost
impossible. Tyrolese sharpshooters tilled the woods which extended at the
foot of the heights. The cavalry, posted in the intervals between the hills,
and especially in the hollow which separates Jemappes from Cuesmes, were
ready to debouch and to rush upon our columns, as soon as they should be
staggered by the fire of the batteries.
It was in presence of this camp so strongly intrenched, that Dumouriez
established himself. He formed his army in a semicircle parallel to the posi-
tions of the enemy. General d'Harville, whose junction with the main body
had been effected on the evening of the 5th, was ordered to manoeuvre on
the extreme right of our line. Skirting Beaulieu's positions on the morning
of the 6th, he was to strive to turn them, and then to occupy the heights
behind Mons, the only retreat of the Austrians. Beurnonville, forming at
the same time the right of our attack, was ordered to march upon the village
of Cuesmes. The Duke de Chartres,t who served in our army with the
* " Baron de Beaulieu was an Austrian general of artillery. After having served in the
seven years' war, he lived peaceably till 1789, the time of the revolt in Brabant. He there
commanded a body of the shattered Austrian army, attacked the rebels, defeated them, and
soon put an end to the war. In 1792, Beaulieu defeated a numerous French corps under
General Biron, and forced them to draw back towards Valenciennes. In 1794, he com-
manded in the province of Luxemburg, and gained a battle near Arlon, over a division of
Jourdan's Army. In 1796, he took the chief command of the army of Italy, but was con-
stantly beaten by Bonaparte. The same year he quitted his command, and was succeeded
by M. de Wurmser, who was still more unfortunate than he had been. — Biographic Mo-
derne. E.
f " Louis Philippe, eldest son of the Duke of Orleans (Egalite) and of Marie Adelaide
de Bourbon Penthievre, grand-daughter of a natural son of Louis XIV. by Madame Montes-
pan, was born at Paris in 1773. The line of Bourbon-Orleans was founded by Philippe,
brother of the Grand Monarque, who conferred on him the duchy of Orleans. In 1782, the
Duke de Chartres's education was intrusted to the Countess de Genlis. In 1792, he fought
under Dumouriez at Valmi, and displayed great bravery and judgment He also distin-
guished himself highly at the battle of Jemappes. Shortly afterwards, having frankly ex-
pressed his horror of the revolutionary excesses in France, a decree of arrest was issued
against him. He then quitted the army and his country, and obtained passports for Swit-
zerland, but received notice that no part of the Cantons was safe for him. Alone, however,
and on foot, and almost without money, he began his travels in the interior of Switzerland
and the Alps ; and at length obtained the situation of professor at the college of Reichenau,
where he taught geography, history, and the French and English languages, and mathe-
matics, for four months, without having been discovered. It was here he learned the tragical
end of his father. On quitting Reichenau, the Duke de Chartres, now become Duke of Or-
leans, retired to Bremgarten, where he remained, under the name of Corby, till the end of
1794. when, his retreat being discovered, he resolved on going to America; but, being
unable to obtain the necessary pecuniary means, he travelled instead through Norway and
Sweden, journeyed on foot with the Laplanders, and reached the North Cape in 179.*). In
the following year he set out for America, and paid a visit to General Washington at Mount
Vernon. He afterwards went to England, and established himself, with his brothers, at
Twickenham. In 1809 the duke was married at Palermo, to the Princess Amelia daughter
8 HISTORY OF THE
rank of general, and who on that day commanded the centre, was to take
Jemappes in front, and to endeavour at the same time to penetrate through
the hollow which separates Jemappes from Cuesmes. Lastly, General Fer-
rand, invested with the command of the left, was directed to pass through a
little village named Quaregnon, and to move upon the flank of Jemappes.
All these attacks were to he executed in columns by battalions. The
cavalry was ready to support them in rear and upon the flanks. Our artillery
was so placed as to batter each redoubt in flank, and to silence its fire, if
possible. A reserve of infantry and cavalry awaited the result behind the
rivulet of Wame.
In the night between the 5th and 6th, General Bcaulieu proposed to sally
from the intrenchments, and to rush unawares upon the Frenrh, in order to
disconcert them by a sudden nocturnal attack. This energetic advice was
not followed, and, at eight o'clock on the morning of the 6th, the French
were in battle full of courage and hope, though under a galling fire and irr
sight of almost inaccessible intrenchments. Sixty thousand men covered
the field of battle, and one hundred pieces of cannon thundered along the
fronts of both armies.
The cannonade began early in the morning. Dumouriez ordered Gene-
rals Ferrand and Beurnonville to commence the attack, the one on the left,
the other on the right, while he himself, in the centre, would await the mo-
ment for action, and d'Harville, skirting Beaulieu's positions, was to inter-
cept the retreat. Ferrand attacked faintly, and Beurnonville did not succeed
in silencing the fire of the Austrians. It was eleven o'clock, and the enemy
was not sufticientiy shaken on the flanks to enable Dumouriez to attack him
in front. The French general then sent his faithful Thouvenot to the left
wing to decide the success. Thouvenot, putting an end to a useless can-
nonade, passed through Quaregnon, turned Jemappes, and marching rapidly,
with bayonets fixed, ascended the side of the hill, and arrived on the flank
of the Austrians.
Dumouriez, being apprized of this movement, resolved to commence the
attack in front, and pushed on the centre direct against Jemappes. He made
his infantry advance in columns, and placed hussars and dragoons to cover
the hollow between Jemappes and Cuesmes, from which the enemy's
cavalry was about to rush. Our troops formed, and passed without hesita-
tion the intermediate space. One brigade, however, seeing the Austrian
cavalry debouching by the hollow, paused, fell back, and uncovered the
flank of our columns. At this moment, young Baptiste Ronard, who was
merely a servant of Dumouriez, impelled by an inspiration of courage and
intelligence, ran to the general of that brigade, reproached him with his
weakness, and led him back to the hollow. A certain wavering had mani-
fested itself throughout the whole centre, and our battalions began to W
thrown into disorder by the fire of the batteries. The Duke de Chartres,
throwing himself amidst the ranks, rallied them, formed around him a batta-
lion, which he called the battalion of Jemappes, and urged it on vigorously
of the King of Sicily. After thn fall of Napoleon he returned to Paris; and, in 1815, was
ordered by Louis to take the command of the army of the North. He soon, however,
resigned it, and fixed his residence, with his family, again at Twickenham. After the Hun-
dred Days he went back to Paris: took his scat in the Chamber of Peers, but manift
such liberal sentiments, as to render himself obnoxious to the administration. In consequence
of the memorable events of July, 1830, he was proclaimed lieutenant-general of the king-
dom, and finally, on the abdication of Charles X., King of the French."— Encyclopaedia
Americana. E.
! W
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 9
against the enemy. The battle was thus restored, and Clairfayt, already
taken in flank, and threatened in front, nevertheless resisted with heroic
firmness.
Dumouriez, observing all these movements, but uncertain of success,
hastened to the right, where the combat was yet undecided, in spite of the
efforts of Beurnonville. His intention was to terminate the attack abruptly,
or rise, to make his right wing fall back, and to employ it so as to protect
the centre, in case a retrograde movement should be necessary.
Beurnonville had made vain efforts against the village of Cuesmes, and he
was about to fall back, when Dampierre,* who commanded one of the points
of attack, taking with him a few companies, dashed boldly into the midst of
a redoubt. Dumouriez came up at the very moment when Dampierre was
making this courageous attempt. He found the rest of his battalions without
a commander, exposed to a terrible fire, and hesitating in presence of the
imperial hussars, who were preparing to charge them. These battalions
were the same that had so strongly attached themselves to Dumouriez in the
camp of Maulde. He cheered and encouraged them to stand firm against
the enemy's cavalry. A discharge at the muzzles of the guns checked the
cavalry, and Berchini's hussars, rushing most seasonably upon them, put
them completely to flight. Dumouriez then placing himself at the head of
the battalions, and striking up with them the hymn of the Marseillais, led
them on against the intrenchments, overthrowing all before him and taking
the village of Cuesmes.
No sooner was this exploit achieved, than Dumouriez, still uneasy on
account of the centre, returned at full gallop, followed by some squadrons ;
but he was met on the way by the young Duke de Montpensier, who came
to inform him of the victory of the centre, owing principally to his brother,
the Duke de Chartres. Jemappes being thus taken in flank and front, and
Cuesmes having been carried, Clairfayt could make no further resistance,
and was obliged to retreat. Accordingly, he quitted the ground, after an
admirable defence, and abandoned to Dumouriez a dear-bought victory. It
was now two o'clock, and our troops, harassed with fatigue, demanded a
moment's rest. Dumouriez granted it them, and halted on the very heights
of Jemappes and Cuesmes. He reckoned, for the pursuit of the enemy,
upon d'Harville, who had been directed to turn Berthaimont, and to cut off
the retreat of the Austrians. But the order being neither sufficiently clear
nor rightly understood, d'Harville had stopped before Berthaimont, and had
uselessly cannonaded its heights. Clairfayt retreated, therefore, under the
protection of Beaulieu, who had not been touched, and both took the road to
Brussels, which d'Harville had not intercepted.
The battle had cost the Austrians fifteen hundred prisoners, and four thou-
sand five hundred killed and wounded, and the French nearly as many.
Dumouriez disguised his loss, and admitted it to amount only to a few hun-
dred men. He has been censured for not having turned the enemy by
• " Dampierre was an officer in the French guards, afterwards colonel of the 5th dragoon
regiment, and finally a republican general. In 1792, he served under Dumouriez, and excited
particular notice by his bravery at Jemappes. At the time of Dumouriez's defection, he
addressed a proclamation to the army of the North and of Ardennes, urging them to remain
faithful to the Convention, for which he was appointed commander-in-chief. In 1793, he
had his leg carried away by a cannon-ball while attacking the woods of Ruismes and 8t
Amand, and died two days afterwards. Dampierre was patronized by the Duke of Orleans;
his air was gloomy, and his make heavy ; but he united to an extraordinary degree of vivacity
the bravery of a soldier." — Biographie Moderne. E.
VOL. II. 2
*>■«,
10 HISTORY OF THE
marching upon his right, and not having thus taken him in the rear instead
of persisting in the attack of the left and the centre. He had an idea of
doing so, when he ordered d'Harville to turn Berthaimont, but he did not
adhere to that intention. His vivacity, which frequently prevented reflection,
and the desire of achieving a brilliant action, caused him at Jemappes, as
throughout the whole campaign, to prefer an attack in front. At any rate,
abounding in presence of mind and ardour in the midst of action, he had
roused the spirit of our troops and communicated to them heroic courage.
The sensation produced by this important battle was prodigious. The vic-
tory of Jemappes instantaneously tilled all France with joy, and Europe
with new surprise. Nothing was talked of but the fact of the coolness with
which the Austrian artillery had been confronted, and the intrepidity dis-
played in storming their redoubts. The danger and the victory were even
exaggerated, and throughout all Europe the faculty of gaining great batdes
was again awarded to the French.
In Paris, all the sincere republicans were overjoyed at the tidings, and
prepared grand festivities. Dumouriez's servants, young Baptiste Renard,
was presented to the Convention, which conferred on him a civic crown and
the epaulette of officer. The Girondins, out of patriotism, out of justice,
applauded the success of the general. The Jacobins, though suspecting him,
applauded also, because they could not help admiring the successes of the
Revolution. Marat* alone, reproaching all the French for their infatuation,
asserted that Dumouriez must have misrepresented the number of his slain,
that a hill is not to be attacked at so little cost, that he had not taken either
baggage or artillery, that the Austrians had gone away quietly, that it was a
retreat rather than a defeat, that Dumouriez might have attacked the enemy
in a different manner; and, mingling with this sagacity an atrocious rage for
calumny, he added that this attack in front had been made merely for the
purpose of sacrificing the brave battalions of Paris ; that his colleagues in
the Convention, at the Jacobins, in short all the French, so ready to admire,
were simpletons ; and that, for his part, he should admit Dumouriez to be a
good general when he should have subdued all Belgium without suffering a
single Austrian to escape, and a good patriot when Belgium should be
thoroughly revolutionized and rendered completely free. " As for the rest
of you," said he, "with that disposition for admiring everything on a sud-
den, you are liable to fly as suddenly to the contrary extreme. One day
you proscribe Montesquiou. You are told on the next that he has conquered
Savoy, and you applaud him. Again you proscribe him, and render your-
selves a general laughingstock by these inconsistencies. For my part, I am
distrustful and always accuse ; and, as to the inconveniences of this disposi-
tion, they are incomparably less than those of the contrary disposition, for
they never compromise the public welfare. They are, no doubt, liable to
lead me into mistakes respecting some individuals ; but, considering the cor-
ruption of the age, and the multitude of enemies to all liberty, from education,
from principle, and from interest, I would lay a thousand to one that I shall
not be wronjf in considering all of them together as intriguers and public
scoundrels, ready to engage in any machinations. I am therefore a thousand
times less likely to be mistaken respecting the public functionaries ; and,
• "In the year 1774 Marat resided at Edinburgh, where he taught the French language,
and published, in English, a volume entitled the 'Chains of Slavery ;' a work wherein the
clandestine and villanous attempts of princes to ruin liberty are pointed out, and dreadful
scenes of despotism disclosed ; to which is prefixed an address to the electors of Gieat Bri*
tain." — Universal Biography. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 11
while <he mischievous confidence reposed in them enables them to plot
against the country with equal boldness and security, the everlasting distrust
which the public should entertain for them, agreeably to my principles,
would not allow them to take a single step without dread of being unmasked
and punished."''
Uy this battle Belgium was opened to the French ; but there strange diffi-
culties met Dumouriez, and two striking scenes themselves: on the con-
quered territory the French Revolution acting upon the neighbouring revolu-
tions tor the purpose of accelerating or assimilating them to itself; and in
our army a demagogue spirit penetrating into the administrations, and disor-
ganizing for the purpose of purifying them. There were in Belgium several
parties. The first, that of the Austrian domination, was confined to the im-
pend armies driven back by Dumouriez. The second, composed of the whole
nation, nobles, priests, magistrates, people, unanimously detested a foreign
yoke, and desired the independence of the Belgian nation; but this latter
was divided into two others : the priests and the privileged persons wished
to retain the old states, the old institutions, the demarcations of classes and
provinces, in short everything but the Austrian domination, and they had in
their favour part of the population still extremely superstitious and strongly
attached to the clergy. Lastly, the demagogues, or Belgian Jacobins, were
desirous of a complete revolution and the sovereignty of the people. These
last demanded the adoption of the French model, and absolute equality.
Thus each party desired only just so much of revolution as suited its own
purpose. The privileged wanted nothing more of it but their former condi-
tion. The plebeians wanted mob supremacy and mob rule.
It is natural to suppose that Dumouriez, with his predilections, must have
steered a middle course between these different parties. Discarding Austria,
which he was combating with his troops, condemning the exclusive preten-
sions of the privileged orders, he had nevertheless no wish to transfer the
Jacobins of Paris to Brussels, and to cause Chabots and Marats to spring up
there. His object therefore was to interfere as little as possible with the
former organization of the country, while reforming such parts of it as were
too feudal. The enlightened portion of the population was favourable to
these views, but it was difficult to mould it into a whole, on account of the
little connexion that subsisted between cities and provinces, and, moreover,
in forming it into an assembly, he would have exposed it to the risk of being
conquered by the violent party. If, however, he could have succeeded,
Dumouriez thought, either by means of an alliance or a union, to attach
Belgium to the French empire, and thus to complete our territory. He was
particularly solicitous to prevent peculations, to secure for himself the im-
mense resources of the country for war, and not to offend any class, that he
might not have his army destroyed by an insurrection. He intended more
especially to spare the clergy, who still possessed great influence over the
minds of the people. He therefore meditated things which the experience
of revolutions demonstrates to be impossible, and which all administrative
and political genius must renounce beforehand with entire resignation. We
shall presently see his plans and his projects unfolding themselves
On entering the country, he promised, in a proclamation, to respect pro-
perty, person, and the national independence. He ordered that every thing
should remain as it then stood ; that the authorities should retain their func-
• Journal de la Republiquc Frangaite, by Marat, the Friend of the People No. 4S.
Monday, November 12, 1792.
t ,
12 HISTORY OF THE
lions ; that the taxes should continue to be levied; and that primary assem-
blies should forthwith meet, for the purpose of forming a National Conven-
tion, that should decide upon the fate of Belgium.
Serious difficulties of a different nature were starting up against him.
Motives of policy, of public welfare, of humanity, might make him desirous
of a prudent and moderate revolution in Belgium ; but it behoved him to pro-
cure subsistence for his army, and this was his personal affair. He was a
general, and, above all, he was obliged to be victorious. To this end lie had
need, of discipline and resources. Having entered Mons on the morning of
the 7th, amidst the rejoicings of the Brabanters, who decreed crowns to him
and to the brave Dampierre, he found himself in the greatest embarrassment.
His commissaries were at Valenciennes; none of the supplies promised him
had arrived. He wanted clothing for the soldiers, who were half naked,
provisions, horses for his artillery, and light carts to second the movement
of the invasion, especially in a country where transport was extremely diffi-
cult; lastly, specie to pay the troops, because the people of Belgium disliked
to take assignats. The emigrants had circulated great quantities of forged
ones, and thus thrown discredit on that kind of paper; besides, no nation is
fond of participating in the embarrassments of another by taking the paper
which represents its debts.
The impetuosity of Dumouriez's character, which was carried to impru-
dence, would not allow it to be believed that he could have tarried from the
7th to the 11th at Mons, and left the Duke of Saxe-Teschen to retreat unmo-
lested, had not details of administration detained him in spite of his teeth, and
engrossed that attention which ought to have been exclusively fixed on mili-
tary matters. He conceived a very judicious plan, namely, to contract with
the Belgians for provisions, forage and other supplies. This course was at-
tended with many advantages. The articles of consumption were on the
spot, and there was no fear of delay. These purchases would give many of
the Belgians an interest in the presence of the French armies. The sellers,
being paid in assignats, would themselves be obliged to favour their circula-
tion; there would thus be no need to enforce that circulation — an important
point; for every person into whose hands a forced currency comes, considers
himself as robbed by the authority which imposes it; and a way of more
universally offending a nation cannot be devised. Dumouriez had some
thoughts of another expedient, namely, to raise loans from the clergy under
the guarantee of France. These loans would supply him with specie, and
though they would put. the clergy to momentary inconvenience, yet the very
circumstance of negotiating with them would dispel all apprehensions re-
specting their existence and possessions. Lastly, as France would have to
demand of the Belgians indemnities for the expenses of a war undertaken for
their liberation, these indemnities would be applied to the payment of the
loans ; and, by means of a slight balance, the whole cost of the war would
he paid, ami l)umouriez would have lived, as he had promised to do, at the
expense of Belgium, without oppressing or disorganizing that country.
Iiut these were plans of genius, and in times of revolution it seems that
genius ought to take a decided part. It ought either to forsee the disorders
and the outrages which are likely to ensue, and to retire immediately; or,
foreseeing, to resign itself to them, and to consent to be violent in order to
continue to be serviceable at the head of the armies or of the state. No man
has been sufficiently detached from the things of this world to adopt the for-
mer course. There is one who has been great, and who has kept himself
pure, while pursuing the latter. It was he who, placed by the side of the
fc
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 13
public welfare, without participating in its political acts, confined himself to
the concerns of war, and organized victory* — a thing pure, allowable, and
always patriotic under every system of government.
Dumouriez had employed for his contracts and his financial operations
Mains, a commissary, to whom he was strongly attached, because he had
found him clever ami active, without caring much whether he was moderate
in his profits. He had also made use of one d'Espagnac,! formerly a liber-
tine abbe, one of those unprincipled men of talent of the old regime, who
could turn their hands to any trade with abundance of grace and skill, but
left behind them an equivocal reputation in all. Dumouriez despatched him
to the ministry to explain his plans, and to obtain the ratification of all the
engagements which he had contracted. He -already afforded ground for cen-
sure by the kind of administrative dictatorship which he assumed, and by
the revolutionary moderation which he manifested in regard to the Belgians,
without as yet compromising himself by his association with men who were
already suspected, or who, if they actually were not then, were soon to be-
come so. At this moment, in fact, a general murmur arose against the old
administrations, which were full, it was said, of rogues and aristocrats.
Dumouriez, having attended to the supply of his troops, was occupied in
accelerating the march of Labourdonnaye. That general, having persisted in
lagging behind, had not entered Tournay till very recently, and there he had
excited scenes worthy of the Jacobins, and levied heavy contributions. Du-
mouriez ordered him to march rapidly upon Ghent and the Scheldt, to pro-
ceed to Antwerp, and then to complete the circuit of the country to the Meuse.
Valence, having at length arrived in line after involuntary delays, was ordered
to be, on the 13th or 14th, at Nivelles. Dumouriez, conceiving that the
Duke of Saxe-Teschen would retire behind the canal of Vilverden, intended
that Valence should turn the forest of Soignies, get behind the canal, and
there receive the duke at the passage of the Dyle.
On the 11th he set out from Mons, slowly following the enemy's army,
which was retiring in good order, but very leisurely. Ill served by his con-
veyances, he could not come up with sufficient despatch to make amends for
the delays to which he had been subjected. On the 13th, while advancing
in person with a mere advanced guard, he fell in with the enemy at Ander-
lech, and had well-nigh been surrounded; but with his usual skill and firm-
ness, he deployed his little force, and made such a show of a few pieces of
* M. Thiers here alludes to Carnot, who, to quote the language of Napoleon, " organized
victory." This eminent republican was a member of the frightful Committee of Public
Safety, " but it has been said in his defence," observes a competent authority, " that he did
not meddle with its atrocities, limiting himself entirely to the war department, for which he
showed so much talent, that his colleagues left it to his exclusive management. He first
daringly claimed for France her natural boundaries ; and he conquered by his genius the
countries which his ambition claimed." E.
■j- " M. R. Sahuguet, Abbe d'Espagnac, was destined for the church, and obtained a ca-
nonry in the metropolitan church of the capital. He first drew attention by his literary talents,
but his love of money soon swallowed up every other consideration. He connected himself
with Calonne, became his agent, and engaged in several lucrative speculations. He was one
of the original members of the Jacobin club. In 1791, he became a purveyor to the army of
the Alps, and being denounced by Cambon for fraudulent dealings, was ordered to be arrest-
ed. He contrived to clear himself from this accusation, and speculated in the baggage-wagons
of Dumouriez's army. Being soon after denounced as an accomplice, and a dishonest pur-
veyor, he was arrested in 1793, and in the following year sent to the guillotine by the revo-
lutionary tribunal. At the time of his death, d'Espagnac was forty-one years of age. — /Jjog--
raphie Moderne. E.
B
14 HISTORY OF THE
artillery that he had with him, as to cause the Austrians to believe that he
was on the field of battle with his whole army. He thus succeeded in
keeping them off till he had time to be relieved by his soldiers, who, on
being apprized of his dangerous situation, advanced at full speed to disen-
gage him.
On the 14th he entered Brussels, and there he was detained by fresh ad-
ministrative embarrassments, having neither money nor any of the resources
requisite for the maintenance of the troops. He there learned that the mi-
nistry had refused to ratify the contracts which he had made, excepting one,
and that all the former military administrations had been dismissed, and their
place supplied by a committee called the committee of contracts. This com-
mittee alone was for the future to have a right to purchase supplies for the
troops — a business with which the generals were not to be permitted to in-
terfere in any way whatever. This was the commencement of a revolution
which was preparing in the administration, and which was about to plunge
them for a time into complete disorganization.
The administrations which require long practice as a special application
are those which a revolution is longest in reaching, because they excite least
ambition, and, besides, the necessity for keeping capable men in them secures
them from arbitrary changes. Accordingly, scarcely any change had been
made in the staffs, in the scientific corps of the army, in the offices of the
different ministers, in the old victualling office, and above all in the navy,
which, of all the departments of the military art, is that which requires the
most special qualifications. Hence people did not fail to cry out against the
aristocrats, with whom those bodies were filled, and the executive council
was censured for not appointing others in their stead. The victualling de-
partment was the one against which the greatest irritation was excited. Just
censures were levelled at the contractors, who, winked at by the state, but
more especially under favour of this moment of disorder, required exorbitant
prices in all their bargains, supplied the troops with the worst articles, and
impudently robbed the public. On all sides one general cry was raised
against their extortions. They had a most inexorable adversary in Cainbon.
the deputy of Montpellier.* Passionately addicted to the study of fin
and political economy, this deputy had acquired a great ascendency in dis-
cussions of this nature, and enjoyed the entire confidence of the Assembly.
Though a decided democrat, he had never ceased to inveigh against the ex-
actions of the commune, and he astonished those who did not comprehend
that he condemned as a financier the irregidarities which he woidd perhaps
have excused as a Jacobin. He launched out with still greater energy against
all contractors, and followed them up with all the zeal of his disposition.
Every day he denounced new frauds and required that a stop should be put
to them, and on this point all agreed with him. Honest men, because they
• "J. Cambon, a merchant, born of Protestant parents, eagerly embraced the cause of the
Revolution. In the Legislative Assembly he devoted himself chiefly to finance; and to him
is owins; the formation of the Great Book of the public debt. In 1792, ho caused assig^Bl
to be issued for thirty millions, and proposed that the statues of the tyrants in
should be converted into cannon. Cambon was the last president of the Legislative Assem-
bly. In 17!)~, his influence obtained the famous decree which set bounds to the power of
■ lis in a hostile country — a measure which removed Duinouriez's mask. In the follow-
ing yi ;ir he voted for the immediate death of the King. After the fall of Robespierre, Cam-
bon directed the finance, but was outlawed soon afterwards, and was subsequently restored
to liberty. He then went to live in obscurity at Montpcllier." — Biographic Moderne.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 15
wished rogues to be punished ; Jacobins, because they loved to persecute
aristocrats; and intriguers, because they wisbed to make vacant
The idea was therefore conceived of forming a committee composed of a
few individuals, appointed to make all contracts on behalf of the republic.
It was conceived that this committee, sole and responsible, would spare the
state the frauds of the host of separate contractors, and that, purchasing alone
for all the administrations, it would not cause prices to be raised by compe-
tition, as was the case when each minister, and each army, bargained indi-
vidually for their respective supplies. This measure was adopted with the
approbation of all the ministers; and Cambon, in particular, was its warmest
partizan, because this new and simple form was agreeable to his absolute
mind. It was intimated, therefore, to Dumouriez, that he would have no
more contracts to make, and he was ordered to cancel those which he had
just signed. The chests of the paymasters were at the same time suppress-
ed : and with such rigour was the execution enforced, that difficulties were
made about the payment of a loan advanced by a Belgian merchant to the
army upon a bond of Dumouriez.
This revolution in the victualling department, originating in a laudable
motive, concurred unfortunately with circumstances that soon rendered its
effects disastrous. Servan had, during his ministry, to supply the first wants
of the troops hastily collected in Champagne, and it was accomplishing much
to have relieved the embarassments of the first moment. But, after the cam-
paign of the Argonne, the supplies brought together with such difficulty
were exhausted: the volunteers, who had left home with a single coat, were
almost naked, and it was necessary to furnish each of the armies with a com-
plete equipment; and this renewal of the whole of the materiel had to be
provided for in the heart of winter, and notwithstanding the rapidity of the
invasion of Belgium. Pache, Servan's successor, had consequently a pro-
digious task to perform, and unluckily, though a man of great intelligence
and application, he had an easy and supple disposition, which inducing a
desire to please every body, especially the Jacobins, prevented him from
commanding any one, and from imparting the requisite energy to a vast ad-
ministration. If then we add to the urgency, and immense extent of the
wants of the troops, to the difficulties of the season, and the necessity for
great promptitude, the weakness of a new ministry, the general disorder of
the state, and above all, a revolution in the administrative system, we shall
have some conception of the utter destitution of the armies, their bitter com-
plaints, and the vehemence of the reproaches between the generals and the
ministers.
At the intelligence of these administrative changes Dumouriez was vio-
lently enraged. During the interval occupied by the organization of the new
system, he saw his army exposed to the risk of perishing from want, unless
the contracts which he had concluded were upheld and executed. He there-
fore took it upon himself to maintain them, and ordered his agents, Malus,
d'Espagnac, and a third named I'etit-Jean, to continue their operations upon
his own responsibility. He wrote at the same time to the minister in so
high a tone, as to increase the suspicions entertained by jealous, distrustful
demagogues, dissatisfied with his revolutionary lukewarinness, and his ad
ministrative dictatorship, lie declared that, if he was expected to continue
vices, he required to be allowed to provide for the wants of his army.
He insisted that the committee of contracts was an absurdity, because it
would export laboriously, and from a distance, that which was to bo obtained
16 HISTORY OF THE
more easily upon the spot; that the carriage would occasion enormous ex-
pense and delays, during which the armies would perish of hunger, cold and
privation ; that the Belgians would lose all interest in the presence of the
French, and no longer assist the circulation of assignats ; that the pillage of
the contractors would continue just the same, because the facillity of robbing
the state in the furnishing of supplies always had made, and always would
make, men plunderers; and that nothing would prevent the members of the
committee of contracts from turning contractors and purchasers, though for-
-bidden to do so by the law ; that it was, therefore, a mere dream of economy,
which, were it even not chimerical, would produce for a moment a disastrous
interruption in the different services. What tended not a little to exasperate
Dumouriez against the committee of contracts was, that in the members who
composed it, he beheld creatures of Clavieres, the minister, and that he re-
garded the measure as arising from the jealousy felt towards himself by the
Girondins. It was, nevertheless, a measure adopted in honest sincerity, and
approved of on all sides, without any party motives.
Pache, like a firm and patriotic minister, ought to have endeavoured to
satisfy the general, in order to secure the continuance of his services to the
republic. To this end he ought to have investigated his demanda, ascer-
tained what part of them was just, adopted it, rejected the rest, and have
conducted all matters with authority and vigour, so as to prevent reproaches,
disputes, and confusion. Instead of this, Pache, already charged by the Gi-
rondins with weakness, and unfavourably disposed towards them, suffered
himself to be josded between them, the general, the Jacobins, and the Con-
vention. In the council, he communicated the hasty letters in which Dumou-
riez openly complained of the distrust of the Girondin ministers in regard to
him. In the Convention, he made known the imperative demands of Du-
mouriez, and the offer of his resignation in case of their refusal. Censuring
nothing, but explaining nothing, and affecting a scrupulous fidelity in his
reports, he suffered everything to produce its most mischievous effects.
The Girondins, the Convention, the Jacobins, were each irritated in their
own way by the high tone of the general. Cambon inveighed against Malus,
d'Espagnac, and Petit-Jean, quoted the prices of their contracts, which were
exorbitant, dwelt on the prodigal licentiousness of d'Espagnac and die former
peculations of Petit Jean, and caused a decree to be issued by the Assembly
against all three. He declared that Dumouriez was surrounded by intriguers,
from whom it was necessary to deliver him ; he maintained that the com-
mittee of contracts was an excellent institution ; that to take articles of con-
sumption from the theatre of war was depriving French artisans of work,
and running the risk of seditions on account of want of employment; that,
with regard to assignats, there was no need whatever for contrivance to
make them circulate ; that the general was wrong not to make them pass
current by authority, and not to transport into Belgium the entire revolution,
with its form of government, its systems, and its money; and that the Bel-
gians, to whom they were giving liberty, ought along with it to take its
advantages and its disadvantages. At the tribune of the Convention, Du-
mouriez was considered merely as having been duped by his agents ; but at
the Jacobins, and in Marat's paper, it was flatly asserted that he was a
partner with them and shared their gains, of which, however, there was no
other proof than the too frequent example of generals.
Dumouriez was therefore obliged to deliver up the three commiss
and he had the further mortification to see them arrested, in spite of the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 17
guarantee which be had given them. Pache wrote to him with his accus-
tomed mildness, intimating that hi* demands should be examined, that his
wants should be supplied, and that the committee of contracts would make
considerable purchases for this purpose, lie informed him, at the same
time, thai large convoys had been despatched, though this was not the r-.isi'.
Nothing arrived, ami Dumouriez was perpetually complaining ; so that, to
read on the one hand the letters of the minister, one would have imagined
that there was abundance of everything, while those of the general on the
other would induce a belief in absolute destitution. Dumouriez had recourse
to expedients, to loans from the chapters of churches ; he subsisted upon a
contract made by Mains, which he was allowed to maintain, owing to the
urgency of the occasion, and he was again detained from the 1 1th to the 19th
at Brussels.
During this interval, Stengel, detached with the advanced guard, had taken
Malines. This was an important capture on account of the stores of guar
powder and arms of every kind which that place contained, and which made
it the arsenal of Belgium. Labourdonnaye, who had entered Antwerp on
the 18th, was organizing dubs, alienating the Belgians by the encouragement
which he gave to popular agitators, and meanwhile neglecting to act vigor-
ously in the siege of the castle. Dumouriez, unable to put up any longer
with a lieutenant, who attended so much to clubs and so little to war, sent as
his successor Miranda, a Peruvian of extraordinary bravery, who had come
to France at the epoch of the Revolution, and obtained high rank through
the friendship of Petion. Labourdonnaye, deprived of his command, and
returning to the department of the North,*look pains to inflame the zeal of
the Jacobins there against Caesar Dumouriez* — the name which began
already to be given to the general.
The enemy had at first intended to place himself behind the canal of Vil-
vorden and to keep in communication with Antwerp. He thus committed
the same fault as Dumouriez did when he meant to approach the Scheldt,
instead of running along the Meuse, as they ought both to have done, the
one to effect, the other to prevent, his retreat. At length Clairfayt, who had
assumed the command, felt the necessity of promptly recrossing the Meuse
and leaving Antwerp to its fate. Dumouriez then ordered Valence to march
from Nivelles upon Namur, and to lay siege to that place. It was a grievous
blunder that he committed not to direct him, on the contrary, along the
Meuse, in order to cut off the retreat of the Austrians. The defeat of the de-
fensive army would naturally have led to the surrender of the place. But
the example of grand strategical manoeuvres had not yet been set, and, more-
over, Dumouriez in this instance, as on many other occasions, lacked the
necessary reflection. He set out from Brussels on the 19th, passed through
Louvain en the 20th ; overtook the enemy on the 22d at Tirlemont, and
killed three or four hundred of his men. Thence, detained once more by
absolute want, he did not set out before the 20th. On the 27th he arrived
before Liege, and had to sustain a brisk action at Varoux with the rear-guard
of the enemy. General Starai, who commanded it, defended himself glori-
ously, and received a mortal wound. At length, on the morning of the 28th,
Dumouriez entered Liege amidst the acclamations of the people, who there
• " Though I were to be called ' Caesar,* ' Cromwell,' or • Monk,' I will save my country,
f the Jacobins, and the conventional regicides who protect them. I will re-establish
the constitution of 1791." — Dumouriez's Memoirs. E.
vol. ii. — 3 b2
18 HISTORY OF THE
entertained the most Revolutionary sentiments. Miranda had taken the
citadel of Antwerp on the 29th, and was enabled to complete the circuit of
Belgium, by marching as far as Ruremonde. Valence occupied Namur on
the 2d of December. Clairfayt proceeded towards the Roer, and Heaulieu
towards Luxemburg.
At this moment all Belgium was occupied as far as the Mease ; but the
country to the Rhine still remained to be conquered, and Dumouriez had to
encounter great difficulties. Either owing to the difficulty of conveyance
or the negligence of the offices, nothing reached his army ; and though there
were considerable stores at Valenciennes, yet there was a want of everything
on the Meuse. Pache, in order to gratify the Jacobins, had opened hi*
office to them, and the utmost confusion prevailed there. Business was
neglected, and from inattention the most contradictory orders were issued.
All duty, therefore, was rendered nearly impossible, and, while the minister
believed that convoys were despatched, nothing of the sort had been done.
The institution of the committee of contracts had served to increase the
disorder.
The new commissary, named Ronsin,* who had succeeded Malus and
d'Espagnac on denouncing them, was in the utmost embarrassment. Most
unfavourably received by the army, he had been deterred from fulfilling his
commission, and, in spite of the recent decisions, continued to make contr
on the spot. The army had, in consequence, been supplied with bread and
butcher's meat ; but it was absolutely destitute of clothing, the means of
transport, ready money, and forage, and all the horses were dying of hanger.
Another calamity thinned that army, namely, desertion. The voluntt
who, in the first enthusiasm, had hastened to Champagne, had cooled after
the moment of danger was past. They were moreover disgusted by the
privations of all kinds which they had to endure, and deserted in great num-
bers. The corps of Dumouriez alone had lost at least ten thousand, and
was daily losing more. The Belgian levies, which the French flattered
themselves with the prospect of raising, were not brought to bear, because
it was almost impossible to organize a country where the different classes of
the population and the different provinces of the territory were by no means
disposed to agree. Liege was deeply imbued with the spirit of the Revolu-
tion ; but Brabant and Flanders beheld with distrust the ascendency of the
Jacobins in the clubs which efforts had been made to establish in Ghent, An-
twerp, Brussels, and other towns. The people of Belgium were not on the
best terms with our soldiers, who wanted to pay in assignats. Nowhere
would they take our paper money, and Dumouriez refused to give it a forced
circulation. Thus, though victorious and in possession of the country, the
army was in an unfortunate situation, owing to want, desertion, and the un-
certain and almost unfavourable disposition of the inhabitants. The Con-
vention, puzzled by the contradictory reports of the general, who most
bitterly complained, and the minister, who declared with modesty but with
confidence, that abundant supplies had been despatched, sent four commis-
sioners, selected from among its members, to ascertain with their own eyes
• "Ronsin was born at Soissons in 1752. He figured in the enrly scenes of the Revolu-
tion, and in 1789 brought out a tragedy at one of the minor Paris theatres, which, though
despicable in point of style, had a considerable run. Being denounced by Robespierre, he
was guillotined in 1794. His dramatic pieces were collected, and published after h\e death."
—Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 19
the real state of affairs. These four commissioners wore Dan ton, Camus,*
Lacroixvt and Cossuin.
While Dumouriez had employed the month of November in occupying
Belgium M far as the Meuse, Custine, still overrunning the environs of
Frankfort and the Mayne, was threatened by the Prussians, who were
ascendimr the Lahn. He had been desirous that the whole stress of the
war should take place in his direction, for the purpose of covering his rear,
and protecting his silly incursions in Germany. Accordingly he was inces-
santly complaining of Dumouriez, because he did not arrive at Cologne, and
of K< Hermann for not proceeding to Coblentz. We have seen what diffi-
culties prevented Dumouriez from advancing more expeditiously, and ren-
dering Kellermann's movement possible. Custine,:}: relinquishing incursions
which drew forth acclamations from the tribune of the Jacobins and the
newspapers, must have confined himself within the boundary of the Rhine,
and, fortifying Mayence, made up his mind to descend to Coblentz. But
he wished everything to be done in his rear, that he might have the
honour of taking the offensive in Germany. Urged by his solicitations and
complaints, the executive council recalled Kellermann, appointed Beurnon-
ville his successor, and gave the latter tardy instructions to take Treves, in
■ very advanced season, and in a country not only poor, but difficult to
occupy. There had never been more than one good way of executing this
enterprise, namely, to march at first, between Luxemburg and Treves, and
thus reach Coblentz, while Custine should proceed thidier along the Rhine.
The Prussians, still disheartened by their defeat in Champagne, would thus
have been crushed ; and at the same time a hand would have been lent to
Dumouriez, who would have reached Cologne, or who would have been
assisted to reach it, if not already there.
In this manner Luxemburg and Treves, which it was impossible to take
by main force, must have fallen through famine and want of succour. But
Custine, having persisted in his excursions in Wetteravia, and the army of
the Moselle having continued in its cantonments, it was too late at the end
of November to proceed thither for the purpose of supporting Custine against
the Prussians, who had recovered their confidence, and were ascending the
Rhine. Beurnonville did not fail to urge these reasons ; but people were in
the mood to conquer ; they wished to punish the elector of Treves for his
conduct towards France ; and Beurnonville was ordered to make an attack,
• " A. G. Camus, deputy to the States-general, and to the National Convention, was
counsel for the clergy at Paris, at the period of the Revolution. In 1792, he was deputed
to go into Holland to inquire into the truth of the complaints brought by Dumouriez against
the war-minister and the commissioners of the treasury, when he obtained the adoption of
plans to improve the commissariat department. In the following year he voted for the king's
death. Being appointed one of five commissioners to arrest Dumouriez, he was anticipated
by that general, who delivered up him and his colleagues to the Austrians. He was, however,
soon afterwards exchanged for the daughter of Louis XVI. Camus died at Paris of an
apoplectic attack, in 1804." — Biographie Moderne. E.
f " Lacroix, who was condemned to death by the revolutionary tribunal in 1794, was
originally a country lawyer ; in two or three months he became a colonel and a major-gene-
ral, acquired wealth, was the accomplice of Danton, long held a secret correspondence with
Dumouriez, whom he pretended to denounce; favoured the tribunes and the tumults of the
sections, was one of the opposers of the Convention by caressing the anarchical commune,
and defending it with his stentorian voice." — Mercier's Nouveau Paris. E.
t " Custine, a general who had done much for the republic, used, when his fortune began
to fail him, to account for his ill luck by saying, ' Fortune was a woman, and his hairs were
growing gray."— Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
20 HISTORY OF THE
which he attempted with as much ardour as if he had approved of it. After
several brilliant and obstinate actions, he Avas obliged to relinquish the
enterprise and to fall back upon Lorraine. In this situation, Custine found
himself compromised on the banks of the Mayne ; but he would not, by
retiring, acknowledge his rashness and the insolidity of his conquest; and he
persisted in maintaining himself there- without any well-defended hope of
success. He had placed in Frankfort, a garrison of two thousand four hun-
dred men, and, though this force was wholly inadequate in an open place
and amidst a population irritated by unjust contributions, he ordered the
commandant to maintain his position ; while he himself, posted at Ober
Yssel and Haimburg, a little below Frankfort, affected a ridiculous firmness
and determination. Such was the state of the army at this point, at the end
of November, and the beginning of December.
NoUiing was yet accomplished along the Rhine. At the Alps, Montes-
quiou, Avhom we have seen negotiating witli Switzerland, and striving at the
same time to bring Geneva and the French ministry to reason, had been
obliged to emigrate. An accusation had been preferred against him, because,
it was alleged, he had compromised the dignity of France, by admitting into
the plan of convention an article according to which our troops were to with-
draw, and above all, by carrying this article into execution. A decn
launched against him, and he sought refuge at Geneva. But nil work was
rendered durable by its moderation; and while he was subjected to a decree
of accusation, negotiations were carrying on with Geneva upon the bam
which he had fixed. The Bernese troops retired ; the French troo,
toned themselves at the distance agreed upon ; the neutrality of Switzerland,
so valuable to France, was secured, and one of her flanks was protected for
several years. This important service had not been appreciated, owing to
the declamation of Clavieres, and owing likewise to the susceptibility of up-
starts occasioned by our recent victories.
In the county of Nice we had gloriously recovered the post of Sospello,
which the Piedmontese had for a moment taken from us, and which they had
again lost, after sustaining a considerable check. This success was due to
the ability of General Brunet. Our fleets, which commanded the Mediter-
ranean, sailed to Genoa, to Naples, where a branch of the house of Bourbon
reigned, and to all the Italian states, to obtain their recognition of the new
French Republic. After a cannonade off Naples, its rulers recognised the
republic, and our fleet returned proud of the concession which they had
extorted. At the Pyrenees absolute immobility prevailed ; and, owing to die
want of means, Servan had the greatest difficulty to recompose the army of
observation. Notwithstanding the enormous expenditure of from one hun-
dred and eighty to two hundred millions per month, all the armies of the
Pyrenees, the Alps, and the Gdoeelle, were in the same distress, from the
disorganization of the services, and the confusion pervading the war depart*
ment. Amidst all this wretchedness, however, the nation was not the less
proud of, and intoxicated with, victory. At this moment, when men's
imagination! were heated by Jemappes, by the capture of Frankfort, by the
occupation of Savoy and Nice, by the sudden revulsion of European opinion
in our favour, they fancied that they could hear the cra>h of monarch*
for a moment indulged the notion that all other nations were about to over-
turn thrones, and to form themselves into republics. M Oh ! that it were but
true," exclaimed a member of the Jacobins, with reference to the annexation
of Savoy to France, " that it were but true that the awakening of nations had
arrived ; that it were but true that the overthrow of all thrones should be die
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 21
speedy consequence of the success of our armies and of the revolutionary
volcano ; that it were true that the republican virtues should at length avenge
the world for all the crimes of crowned heads ; that every country, become
free, should then frame a government conformable to the greater or less
extent which nature has given to it ; and that a certain number of extraordi-
nary deputies from all these national conventions should form at the centre
of the globe one general convention, to watch constantly over the mainte-
nance of the rights of man and the universal freedom of commerce !"*
At this moment, the Convention, being apprized of certain harsh proceed-
ings of the Duke of Deux-Ponts against some of his subjects, passed, in a fit
of enthusiasm, the following decree:
" The National Convention declares that it will grant succour and frater-
nity to all the nations that shall b»t desirous of recovering their liberty ; and
it charges the executive power to give orders to the generals of the French
armies to aid those citizens who have been, or who shall be, harshly treated
on account of liberty.
" The National Convention orders the generals of the French armies to
cause the present decree to be printed and posted in all places to which they
shall carry the arms of the republic.
"Paris, November 19, 1792."
• Speech of Milhaud, deputy of the Cantal, delivered at the Jacobins in November, 1792.
22 HISTORY OF THE
THE TRIAL OF LOUIS THE SIXTEENTH.
The Trial of Louis the Sixteenth was at length about to commence, and
the parties awaited this occasion for measuring their strength, disclosing their
intentions, and for forming a definite judgment of one another. The G iron-
dins, in particular, were closely watched by their adversaries, who were
intent on detecting in them the slightest emotion of pity, and accusing them
of royalism, in case they should betray the least feeling for fallen greatness.
The party of the Jacobins, which made war upon all monarchy in the
person of Louis XVL, had certainly made progress, but it still met with
strong opposition in Paris, and still greater in the rest of France. It domi-
neered in the capital, by means of its club, the commune and the sections ;
but the middle class resumed courage, and still made some resistance to it.
Petion having refused the mayoralty, Chambon, the physician, had obtained
a great majority of votes, and had reluctantly taken upon himself an office,
which was by no means suited to his moderate and unambitious disposition.
This selection proves the power which the bourgeoise still possessed even
in Paris. In the rest of France its power was much greater. The landed
proprietors, the tradesmen, in short, all the middle classes, had not yet for-
saken either the municipal councils, the councils of departments, or the
popular societies, and sent addresses to the majority of the Convention, in
harmony with the laws and in a spirit of moderation. Many of the affiliated
societies of the Jacobins censured the mother society, and loudly demanded
the erasure of Marat, and some even that of Robespierre, from the list of its
members. Lastly, new federalists were setting out from the Bouehes du
Rhone, Calvados, Finistere, and La Gironde, and, anticipating the decrees
as on the 10th of August, were coming to protect the Convention and to
insure its independence.
The Jacobins were not yet masters of the armies. From these the staffs
and the military organization continued to keep them aloof. They had,
however, secured to themselves one department of the administration — that
of war. This had been thrown open to them by Pache from weakness, and
he had dismissed all his old employ4* to make room for members of the club.
These thou'd one another in his office, appeared there in squalid apparel,
and made motions: among them were a great number of married priests,
introduced by Audouin, Pache's son-in-law, and himself a married prl
One of the heads of this department was Hassenfratz, formerly resident at
Metz, expatriated on account of bankruptcy, and who, like manv others, had
raited himself to a high office by displaying extraordinary democratic zeal.
While the administrations of the army were thus renewed, all possible pains
were taken to fill the army itself with a new class of persons, and with new
opinions. Hence it happened that, while Roland was an object of the sworn
hatred of the Jacobins, I'aclw was n favourite and highly extolled by them.
They landed his mildness, his modesty, his extraordinary capacity, and con-
trasted them with the austerity of Roland, which they termed pride.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 23,
Roland, in fact, had not allowed the Jacobins any access to the office of
his department To superintend the reports of the constituted bodies, to
bring beck within bounds diose which overstepped them, to maintain tbe
public tranquillity, to watch the popular societies, to attend to the supply of
provisions, to protect trade and property ; in short, to supervise the whole
internal administration of the state — such were his immense duties, and be
performed diem with uncommon energy. Every day he denounced the
commune, condemned the excess of its powers, its peculations, and its de-
spatch of commissioners. He stopped its correspondence, as well as that
of the Jacobins, and, instead of their violent papers, he substituted others
replete with moderation, which everywhere produced the best effect. lie
superintended all the property of emigrants which had devolved to the state,
bestowed particular attention on the supply of the prime necessaries of life,
repressed disturbances of which they were the occasion, and multiplied him-
self, so to speak, to oppose law and force whenever he could to the revolu-
tionary passions. It is easy to conceive what a difference the Jacobins must
have made between Pache and Roland. The families of the two ministers
contributed themselves to render this difference the more striking. Pache's
wife and daughters went to the clubs and the sections ; they even visited the
barracks of the federalists, for the purpose of gaining them over to the cause,
and distinguished themselves by a low Jacobinism from the polished and
proud wife of Roland, who was moreover surrounded by those orators so
eloquent and so detested.
Pache and Roland were, therefore, the two persons around whom the
members of the council rallied. Clavieres, at the head of the finances,
though he was frequendy embroiled with both from the extreme irritability
of his temper, always returned to Roland when he was appeased. Lebrun,
a weak man, but attached by his talents to the Girondins, received much
assistance in business from Brissot ; and the Jacobins called the latter an
intriguer, and asserted that he was the master of the whole government, be-
cause he aided Lebrun in his diplomatic labours. Garat, contemplating par-
ties from a metaphysical elevation, was content to judge, and did not deem
himself bound to combat them. He seemed to think that, because he disco-
vered faults in the Girondins, he was justified in withholding his support
from them, and a really wise course was the result of his weakness. The
Jacobins, however, accepted the neutrality of so distinguished a mind as a
valuable advantage, and repaid it with some commendations. Lasdy,
Monge,* an eminent mathematician, and a decided patriot, not very favoura-
bly disposed towards the somewhat vague theories of the Girondins, followed
the example of Pache, suffered his office to be overrun by the Jacobins, and
without disavowing the Girondins to whom he owed his elevation, he received
the praises of their adversaries, and shared in the popularity of Pache.
Thus the Jacobin party finding two complaisant tools in Pache and
Monge, an indifferent metaphysician in Garat, but an inexorable adversary
in Roland, who rallied about him Lebrun and Clavieres, and frequently
brought over the others to his way of thinking — the Jacobin party had not
in its hands the government of the state, and everywhere repeated that in
• " G. Monge was a member of the Academy of Sciences, and afterwards of the French
Institute. In 1793, acting as war minister for Sorvan, he signed the order for the tUCStll
of Louis. In the following year he was made secretary and president of the Jacobin club.
Having attached himself to the fortunes of Bonaparte, he was ap]>oinled in IKUl to the situa-
tion of grand officer of the Legion of Honour. Monge was the author of several scientific
works." — BiographU Muderne. E.
24 HISTORY OF THE
the new order of things there was only a kin<r the less, but that, with this
single exception, (here existed the same despotism, the same intrigues, and
the same treasons. Th< 6 that the Revolution would not be com-
plete and irrevocable, till the secret author of all machinations and of all
resistance, confined in the Temple, should be destroyed.
We observe what was the respective force of the parties, and the state of
the Revolution, at the moment when the trial of Louis XVI. commenced.
This prince and his family occupied the great tower of the Temple. The
communes, having the disposal of the armed force and the superintendei
of the police of the capital, had also the guard of the Temple : and to its
jealous, restless, and ungenerous authority the royal family was subjected.
That unfortunate family, being guarded by a class of men far inferior to that
of which the Convention was composed, could not look either for that mo-
deration or that respect which a good education and polished maimers alw »
inspire for adversity. It had at first been placed in the little tower, but after-
wards removed to the larger, because it was thought that it could be watched
there with greater ease and security. The King occupied one fioor, and
the princesses, with the children, had another. In the daytime they v.
allowed to pass together the sorrowful moments of their captivity. A single
attendant had obtained permission to follow them to their prison. This
the faithful Clery, •• who, having escaped the massacres of the 10th of
August, had returned to Paris to serve in misfortune those whom lie had
formerly served in the splendour of their power. He v ! to
rise at daybreak, and strove by his assiduities to supply the place of the
numerous servants who had once surrounded his employers. They break-
fasted at nine o'clock in the King's apartment. At ten the whole family
met in that of the Queen. Louis XVI. then occupied himself in instructing
his son. He made him learn by heart passages in Racine and Gorneille,
and taught him the first rudiments of geography, a science which lie hail
himself cultivated with great ardour and success. The Queen, on her part,
attended to the education of her daughter, and then spent some time with
her sister in working tapestry. At one o'clock, when the weather v
the whole family was conducted into the garden, to take air and i
Several members of the municipality and officers of the guard accompai
them, and at times they met with kind and humane, at others with harsh and
contemptuous faces.
Uncultivated men are rarely generous, and with them greatness when it
has fallen, is not to be forgiven. Let the reader figure to himself rude and
ignorant artisans, masters of that family, whose power they rep
themselves with having so long endured, and whose profusion they had con-
tributed to supply, and he will be able to conceive what low revenge they
must sometimes have wreaked upon it.t The King and Queen were fre-
• " Clery we have seen and known, and the form and manners of that model of priatiojl
faith and loyalty can never l>e forgotten. Gentleman-like and complaisant in his man:
his deep gravity and melancholy features announced that the sad scenes in which he had
acted a part so honourable, were never for a moment out of his memory. He died at Hitz-
ing, near Vienna, in 1809. In the year 1817, Louis XVIII. gave letters of nobility to his
daughter." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
"Louis XVI. was attended daring the whole term of his imprisonment, nnd in hi< \.\-\
moments, by his old servant. Clery, wbe new I. ft him. The name* of tftoae who arc faith-
ful in misfortune, are sacred in the ptfe of historv !" — llitlitt. E.
f " A man named Simon, a shoemaker and municipal officer, was one of the sir commis-
sioners appointed to inspect the works aik! the expenses of the Temple. This man. when-
ever ho appeared in the presence of the royal family, always treated them with the vilest
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 25
qucntlv doomed to hear cruel remarks, and found upon the wall of the courts
and corridors the expressions of the hatred winch the former government
had often merited, but which neither Louis XVI. nor his consort had done
anything to excite.* Sometimes, however, they found relief in furtive de-
monstrations of interest, and they continued these painful walks on account
of their children, who needed such exercise. While they sadly traversed
the court of the Temple* they perceived at the windows of the nciirhbourinir
houses a great number of old subjects still attached to their sovereign, and
who came to survey the narrow space in which the fallen monarch was con-
fined.t At two o'clock the walk finished, and dinner was served. After
dinner, the Kino lav down, and, during his nap, his wife, sister, and daughter
worked in silence, while Clery, in another room, exercised the young prince
in the sanies suitable to his acre. The family afterwards read some book
together, then supped, and retired to their respective apartments, after a sor-
rowful adieu, for thev never parted without grief. The King read for some
hours longer. Montesquieu, Burton, Hume's History, the Imitation of Jesus
Christ, and some Latin and Italian classics, were the books that he usually
He had finished about two hundred and fifty volumes when he
quitted the Temple.
Such was die life of this monarch during his sad captivity. Reduced to
private life, he was restored to all his virtues, and proved himself worthy of
the esteem of all honest hearts. His very enemies, had they but seen him,
so simple, so calm, so pure, would not have been able to suppress an invo-
luntary emotion, and would have forgiven the faults of the prince on account
of the virtues of the man.
The committee, in the excess of its distrust, resorted to the most irksome
precautions. Municipal officers never suffered any of the members of the
royal family to be out of their sight; and it was only when their prisoners
retired to rest that they suffered a locked door to interpose them. They
then placed a bed against the entrance of each apartment, so as to prevent all
insolence ; and would frequently say to me, so near the King, as to be heard by him, ' Clery,
ask Capet if he wants anything, that I mayn't have the trouble of coming up twice.' One
of the doorkeepers of the tower, whose name was Rocher, accoutred as a pioneer, with long
whiskers, a black hairy cap, a huge sabre, and a belt to which hung a bunch of great keys,
came up to the door when the King wanted to go out, but did not open it till his majesty
was quite close, when, pretending to search for the key among the many which he had, and
which he rattled in a terrible manner, he designedly kept the royal family waiting, and then
drew the bolts with a great clatter. After doing this, he ran down before them, and fixing
himself on one side of the last door, with a long pipe in his mouth, pulled the fumes of the
tobacco at each of the royal family, as they went out and chiefly at the Queen and princesses.
Some national guards, who were amused with these indignities, came about him, burst into
fits of laughter at every puff of smoke, and used the grossest language ; some of them
went so far as to bring chairs from the guard-room, to sit and enjoy the sight, obstructing
the passage, which was itself sufficiently narrow." — Clery.
* - One of the soldiers within wrote one day, on the King's chamber-door, and that, too,
on the inside, ' The guillotine is permanent, and ready for the tyrant Louis.' The walls
were frequently covered with the most indecent scrawls, in large letters, that they might not
escape notice. Among others were ' Madame Veto shall swing.' — ' The little wolves must
be strangled.' — Under a gallows with a figure hanging, were these words : ' Louis taking an
air-bath,' and similar ribaldry." — Clery. R,
f " During the hour allowed for walking, a sight was presented to the royal family that
often awakened their sensibilities, and moved them to tears. Many of their faithful subjects,
placing themselves at the windows of the houses round the garden of thfl Temple, took the
op[M>rtunity of this short interval to see their King and Queen ; and it was impossible to be
I in their sentiments and their wishes. In particular, they would anxiously follow
the dauphin with their eyes, when he ran to any distance from their majesties." — Clery.
VOL. II. i C
(L
26 . HISTORY OF THE
egress, and there passed the night. Santerre, with his staff, made every day
a general visit of inspection throughout the whole tower, and rendered a
regular account of it. The municipal officers on duty formed a kind of per-
manent council, which, placed in an apartment of the tower, was authorized
to issue orders and to return answers to all the demands of the prisoners.
Pen, ink, and paper, had at first been left in the prison, but these articles
were soon taken away, as well as all sharp instruments, such as razors,
scissors, or penknives, and the strictest and most offensive search was made
to discover any such implements that might have been concealed. This
was a great affliction for the princesses, who were thenceforward deprived
of their needlework, and could no longer repair their apparel, which was in
a very bad state, as they had not been supplied with anything new since
their transfer to the Temple. The wife of the English ambassador sent
body-linen to the Queen, and on the application of the King, the commune
directed some to be made for the whole family. As for outer garments,
neither the King nor the Queen* cared to ask for them ; but no doubt they
would have obtained them had they expressed any wish to that effect. With
respect to money, the sum of two thousand francs was given to them in Sep-
tember for their petty expenses, but they were not supplied with more, for
fear of the use which might be made of it. A sum was placed in the hands
of the governor of the Temple, and, on the application of the prisoners, the
different articles which they needed were purchased for them.
We must not exaggerate the faults of human nature, and suppose that,
adding an execrable meanness to the fury of fanaticism, the keepers of the
imprisoned family imposed on it unworthy privations, with the intention of
rendering the remembrance of its past greatness the more painful. Distrust
was the sole cause of certain refusals. Thus, while the dread of plots and
secret communications prevented them from admitting more than one attend-
ant into the interior of the prison, a numerous establishment was employed
in preparing their food. Thirteen persons were engaged in the duties of the
kitchen, situated at some distance from the tower. The reports of the ex-
penses of the Temple, where the greatest decency is observed, where the
prisoners are mentioned with respect, where their sobriety is commended,
where Louis XVI. is justified from the low reproach of being too much ad-
dicted to wine — these reports, which are not liable to suspicion, make the
total expense for the table amount in two months to 28,745 livres. While
thirteen domestics occupied the kitchen, one only was allowed to enter the
prison, and to assist Clery in watting upon the prisoners at table. So inge-
nious is captivity that it was by means of this domestic, whose sensibility
Clery had contrived to excite, that news from without sometimes penetrated
into the Temple. The unfortunate prisoners had always been kept in igno-
rance of the occurrences outside that building, The representatives of the
commune had merely sent to them the newspapers which recorded the vic-
tories of the republic, and which thus deprived them of every hope.
Clery had devised a clever expedient to make them acquainted with cir-
cumstances as they occurred, and which had succeeded tolerably well. By
means of communications which he had formed outside the prison, be had
caused a public hawker to be engaged and paid. This man came daily he-
• " I have heard Mr. Northcote describe the Queen, in her happier and younger day*, a*
entering a small ante-room where lie was standing, with her large hoop sideways, and gliding
by him from one end to the other as if borne on a cloud. It was possibly to 'this air with
which she trod, or rather disdained the earth,' as if descended from some higher sphere, that
■he owed the indignity of being conducted lo the scaffold." — Hazlitt. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. • 27
neatli the windows of the Temple, and, under pretext of selling newspapers,
lu' bawled oat with all his Dttgfat the principal details contained in them.
Clery, who had fixed the hour for his coming, was sure to be at the window
above, noted all that he heard, and at night, stooping over the King's bed,
at the moment when he drew his curtains, he communicated to him the
intelligence which he had thus obtained. Such was the condition of the
illustrious family thrust from the throne into a prison, and the manner in
which the ingenious zeal of a faithful servant ballled the jealous caution of
its iraolers.
The committees had at length presented their report relative to the trial
of Louis XVI. Dufriche-\ ala/.e had made a first report on the charges
alleged against the monarch, and the documents that could furnish proofs of
them. This report, too long to be read through, was printed by order of the
Convention and sent to each of its members. On the 7th of November,
Mailhe, in the name of the committee of legislation, presented the report on
the great question to which the trial gave rise:
Can Louis XVI. be tried?
What tribunal shall pronounce judgment ?
Such were the two essential questions, which were about to engage all
minds, and to agitate them profoundly. The report was ordered to be printed
immediately. Being translated into all languages, and numerous copies cir-
culated, it was soon spread throughout France and Europe. The discussion
was adjourned till the 13th, in spite of Billaud-Varennes, who insisted that
the Assembly should decide by acclamation the question of bringing the
Kinir to trial.
Now was about to ensue the last conflict between the ideas of the Consti-
tuent Assembly and the ideas of the Convention ; and this conflict was
destined to be the more violent, inasmuch as the life or death of the King
was to be the result of it. The Constituent Assembly was democratic in its
ideas and monarchical in its sentiments. Thus, while it constituted the
entire state of a republic, from a remnant of affection and delicacy towards
Louis XVI. , it retained royalty with the attributes invariably allotted to it in
the system of a well regulated feudal monarchy. Hereditary succession,
executive power, participation in the legislative power, and above all invio-
lability— such are the prerogatives assigned to the throne in modern mo-
narchies, and which the first assembly had left to the reigning house. Par-
ticipation in the legislative power and the executive power, are functions which
may vary in their extent, and which do not constitute modern royalty so
essentially, as hereditary succession and inviolability. Of these two latter,
the one insures the perpetual and natural transmission of royalty ; the second
places it beyond all attack in the person of every heir: and both make it some-
thing perpetual, which is never interrupted, and something inaccessible,
which no penalty can reach. Doomed to act solely by ministers, who are
responsible for its actions, royalty is accessible only in its agents; and thus
there is a point where it may be struck without being shaken. Such is feudal
monarchy, successively modified by time, and reconciled with the degree
of liberty which modern nations have attained.
The Constituent Assembly, however, had been induced to lay arestriction
on this royal inviolability. The flight to Varcnnes, and the enterprises of
the emigrants, had led it to think that the ministerial responsibility would
not guaranti e a nation from all the faults of royalty. It had therefore pro-
vided for tin' case when a monarch should put himself at the head of a hos-
tile army to attack the constitution of the state, or else should not oppose by
23 • HISTORY OF THE
a. formal act., an enterprise of this nature undertaken in his name. In this case
it had declared the monarch not amenable to the ordinary laws against felony,
but to have forfeited the crown. He was deemed to have abdicated royalty.
Such is the precise language of the law which it had passed. The pro
to accept the constitution made by it to the King, and the acceptance on the
part of the King, had rendered the contract irrevocable, and the Assembly
had bound itself by a solemn engagement to hold sacred the person of the
monarchs.
It was in the presence of such an engagement that the Convention found
itself when deciding upon the fate of Louis XVI. But these new constitu-
ents, assembled under the name of Convention, did not conceive themselves
to be more bound by the institutions of their predecessors, than these latter
imagined themselves to be by the old institutions of feudalism. Men's
minds had been hurried along with such rapidity, that the laws of 1791 ap-
peared as absurd to the generation °^ 1792 as those of the thirteenth century
had appeared to the generation of 1789.* The Conventionalists, therefore,
did not deem themselves bound by a law which they regarded as absurd, and
they declared themselves in insurrection against it, as the States-general did
against that of the three orders.
As soon, therefore, as the discussion commenced, two systems were seen
in decided opposition to each other. Some maintained the inviolability, others
absolutely rejected it. Such had been the change of ideas that no member
of the Convention durst defend the inviolability as good in itself, and even
those who were in favour of it defended it solely as an anterior arrangement,
the benefit of which was guaranteed to the monarch, and of whieh the As-
sembly could not dispossess him without violating a national engagement.
Nay, there were but very few deputies who supported it as an engagement
contracted, and the Girondins even condemned it in this point of view. Tliey
abstained, however, from taking part in the debate, and coldly watched the
discussion raised between the rare partisans of inviolability and its numerous
adversaries.
" In the first place," said the adversaries of inviolability, " in order that
an engagement shall be binding, it is requisite that the party contracting such
engagements shall have a right to bind himself. Now, the national sove-
reignty is inalienable, and cannot bind itself for the time to come. The na-
tion may certainly, in stipulating the inviolability, have rendered the execu-
tive power inaccessible to the attacks of the legislative power. It is a politic
precaution, the motive of which may be easily conceived, in the system of
the Constituent Assembly ; but, if it has rendered the Kinir inviolable for
the constituted bodies, it cannot have rendered him inviolable for itself, for
it never can renounce the faculty of doing and willing anything at all times.
This faculty constitutes its omnipotence, which is inalienable. The nation,
therefore, cannot have bound itself in regard to Louis XVI., and it cannot be
met with an engagement which it had not the power to make.
" Secondly, even supposing the engagement possible, it would be requisite
that it should be reciprocal. Now it never has been so on the part of Louis
* " One of the most eminent members of the Gironde party contradicts this assertion. " It
must not be dissembled," he says, " that the majority of Frenchmen desired royalty and the
constitution of 1791. There were only a few noble and elevated minds who felt themselves
worthy to be republicans. The rest of the nation, with the exception of the ignorant wretches,
without either sense or substance, who vomited abuse against royalty, as at another time
they would have done against a commonwealth, and all without knowing why — the rest of
the nation were all attached to the constitution of 1791." — Cuzzofs Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ■ 29
XVI. That constitution, on which he now wishes to support himself, he
never liked, he always protested against; he has continually laboured to
oy it, not only by internal conspiracies, bat by the sword of en
What right has he then to avail himself of it ?
•• Let M even admit the engagement as possible and reciprocal, it is fur-
ther requisite, in order that it should have any validity, that it be not absurd.
Thus we can readily conceive the inviolability' which applies to all the osten-
uts for which a minister is responsible instead of the King, flor all
f this kind there exists a guarantee in the ministerial responsibility;
and inviolability, not being impunity, ceases to be absurd. Hut for all secret
aeh as underhand machinations, correspondence with the enemy ; in
short, treason, is there a minister at hand to countersign and to he responsi-
ble I And should these latter acts nevertheless pass unpunished, though the
most important and the most culpable of all ? This is inadmissible, and it
must he acknowledged that the King, inviolable for the acts of his adminis-
tration, teases to be so for the secret and criminal acts which attack the pub-
lic safety. Thus a deputy, inviolable for his legislative functions, an am-
r his diplomatic functions, are not so for all the other acts of their
private life. Inviolability, therefore, has limits, and there are points at which
the person of the King ceases to be unassailable. Will it be urged that for-
feiture of the throne is the penalty pronounced against perfidies for which a
minister is not responsible 1 That is to say, is the mere privation of power
the only punishment to be inflicted on the monarch for having so atrociously
abused it .' Shall the people whom he has betrayed, given up to the sword
of foreigners, and to every scourge at once, do no more than say to him,
1 Get you gone V This would be an illusory justice, and a nation cannot fail
so egregiously in its duty to itself as to leave unpunished the crime com-
mitted against its existence and its liberty.
"There is required," added the same speakers, "there is indeed required
a known punishment, enacted by an anterior law, before it can he applied to
a crime. Hut, are there not the ordinary penalties against treason ? Are
not these penalties alike in all codes? Is not the monarch forewarned by
the morality of all ages and of all countries that treason is a crime ; and by
the legislature of all nations that this crime is punished with the most terri-
ble of punishments ' Besides a penal law, there must be a tribunal. But
here is the sovereign nation, which unites in itself all powers, that of trying
as well as that of enacting laws, and of making peace and war ; here it is
with its omnipotence, with its universality, and there is no function but it is
capable of fulfilling. This nation is the Convention which represents it,
commissioned to do everything on its behalf, to avenge, to constitute, and to
save it. The Convention, then, is competent to try Louis XVI. It pos-
sesses sufficient powers. It is the most independent, the most elevated tribu-
nal, that an accused person can choose ; and, unless he needs partisans or
hirelings of the enemy in order to obtain justice, the monarch cannot wish
for other judges. True, he will have the same men for accusers and judges.
But if, in the ordinary tribunals, exposed in a lower sphere to individual and
particular causes of error, the functions are separated, and care has beta
taken that the accusation shall have other judges than those who ha\e sup-
ported it, in the general council of the nation, which is placed above all
individual interests and motives, the same precautions are not necessary.
Tlr nation can i!» n» wrong, and the deputies who represent it partake of
its inviolability and its pou
" Thus," proceeded the adversaries of the inviolability, " the engagement
c 2
30 • HISTORY OF THE
contracted in 1791 being incapable of binding tbe national sovereignty, that
engagement being without any reciprocity, and containing moreover an ab-
surd clause, that of allowing treason to pass unpunished, is absolutely null,
and Louis XVI. can be put on his trial. With respect to the punishment, it
has been known in all ages, it is specified in all laws. As for the tribunal,
it is in the Convention, invested with all the powers, legislative, executive,
and judicial." These speakers therefore demanded, with the committee,
that Louis XVI. should be tried ; that he should be tried by the National
Convention ; that a statement declaratory of the acts imputed to him should
be drawn up by commissioners appointed for the purpose ; that he should
appear personally to answer the charges ; that counsel should be assigned
him to defend himself; and that, immediately after he should be heard, the
National Convention should pronounce judgment by putting the question to
the vote.*
The defenders of the inviolability had left none of these reasons unan-
swered, and had refuted the whole system of their adversaries.
"It is alleged," said they, "that the nation had not the power to alienate
its sovereignty and to interdict itself from punishing a crime committed
against itself; that the inviolability enacted in 1791 bound the legislative
body alone, but not the nation itself. In the first place, if it be true that the
national sovereignty cannot be alienated, and that it cannot interdict itself
from renewing its laws, it is likewise true that it has no power over the
past. It cannot therefore make that which has been not be. It cannot pre-
vent the laws which it has enacted from having had their effect, and that
which they absolved from being absolved. It certainly can for the future
declare that monarchs shall be no longer inviolable ; but, with reference to
the past, it cannot prevent their being so, since so it has declared them to
be ; it cannot, above all, break engagements contracted with third persons,
towards whom it became a simple party in treating with them. Thus, then,
the national sovereignty possessed the power of binding itself for a time.
It determined to do so in an absolute manner, not only for the legis-
lative body, to which it interdicted all judicial action against the Knur,
but also for itself, for the political aim of the inviolability would have been
missed, if royalty had not been placed beyond all attack whatever, on
the part of the constituted authorities as well as on the part of the nation
itself.
" With regard to the want of reciprocity in the execution of the engage-
ment, that was all foreseen," argued the same speakers. " The want of
fidelity to the engagement, was provided for by the engagement itself. All
the modes of failing in it are comprised in one alone, the most heinous oi all,
war against the nation, and are punished by forfeiture, that is to say, by the
dissolution of the contract between the nation and the King. The want of
reciprocity is not then a reason which can release the nation from the pro-
mise of inviolability.
" The engagement being, then, real and absolute, common to the nation
as to the legislative body, the want of reciprocity was foreseen, and cannot
be a cause of nullity. It will be perceived, in short, that in the system of
the monarchy, this engagement was not unreasonable, and that it cannot be
set aside on account of absurdity. In fact, this inviolability left not, as has
• " It was by means of a chain of the most ingenious sophisms that the committee trans-
formed the Convention into a tribunal. The party of Robespierre showed itself much more
consistent, in urging only reasons of state, and rejecting forms as illusory." — Migncl. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ■ 31
|
been asserted, any crime unpunished. The ministerial responsibility ex-
tended to all the acts, because a king can no more conspire than govern
without agents, and thus public justice always had something t<> lay hold
of. Lastly, those secret crimes, differing from the ostensible delinquencies
of administration, were provided for and punished by forfeiture, for every
fault on the part of the King was retraced in this legislation to the eeaaatitti
of his functions. Against this it has been argued that forfeiture is no punish-
ment, that it is only the privation of an instrument which the monarch
has abused. But, in a system where the royal person was to be unassaila-
ble, the severity of the punishment was not the most important matter. The
essential point was its political result, and this result was attained by the
privation of power.
" Besides, was not the loss of the first throne in the world a punishment?
Can a man without extreme pain lose a crown, which at his birth he found
upon his head, with which he has passed his life, and under which he has
been adored for twenty years ? To minds bred to sovereignty is not this
punishment equal to that of death ? Moreover, were the punishment too
mild, it is so agreeably to an express stipulation, and an insufficiency of
punishment cannot be in any law a cause of nullity. It is a maxim in
criminal legislation that the accused ought to have the benefit of all the
faults of the legislation, because the feeble and disarmed ought not to be
made to suffer for the errors of the strong. Thus, then, the engagement,
being demonstrated to be valid and absolute, involves nothing absurd. No
impunity was stipulated in it, and treason was to find its punishment.
There is no reason then to recur to the law of nature or to the nation, since
the forfeiture is already pronounced by an anterior law. This penalty the
King has undergone, without any tribunal to pronounce it, and according to
the only possible form, that of a national insurrection. As he is dethroned
at this moment, beyond all possibility of acting, France can do nothing more
against him, than take measures of police for his safety. Let her banish
him from her territory for her own security; let her detain him, if she will,
till the peace ; or let her suffer him to remain in her bosom ! to become a
man again, by the practice of private life. That is all she ought to do — all
she can do. There is no occasion, then, to constitute a tribunal, to inquire
into the competence of the Convention. On the 10th of August, all was
accomplished for Louis XVI. On the 10th of August, he ceased to be King.
On the 10th of August, he was tried, sentenced, deposed, and all was con-
summated between him and the nation."
Such was the answer with which the advocates of the inviolability met
their adversaries. The national sovereignty being understood as people then
understood it, their answers were victorious, and all the arguments of the
committee of legislation were but laboured sophisms, without frankness and
without truth.
The reader has just seen what was said on both sides in the regular dis-
cussion. But from the agitation of minds and passions sprang another sys-
tem and another opinion. At the Jacobins, in the ranks of the Mountain,
people already asked if there was any need for a discussion, for sentence,
for forms, in short, in order to rid themselves of what they called a tyrant,
taken with arms in his hand, and spilling the blood of the nation. This
opinion found a terrible organ in the young St. Just,* a cold and austere
* "St. Just waa austere in manners, like Robespierre, but more enthusiastic; and the
image of a thousand religious or political fanatics, who, being of a gloomy temperament, and
32 • HISTORY OF THE
9
fanatic, who at the age of twenty was devising a perfectly ideal state of
society, in which absolute equality, simplicity, austerity, and an indestructi-
ble force should reign. Long before the 10th of August, he had brooded in
the recesses of his gloomy mind over this supernatural society, and he had
arrived through fanaticism at that extremity of human opinions, to which
Robespierre had arrived solely by dint of hatred. -New to the Revolution,
upon which he had scarcely entered, as yet a stranger to all its struggles, to
all its wrongs, to all its crimes, ranged in the party of the Mountain by the
violence of his opinions, delighting the Jacobins by the boldness of his
sentiments, captivating the Convention by his talents, still he had not yet
acquired popular reputation. His ideas, always favourably received, but not
always comprehended, had not their full effect till they had become, through
the plagiarisms of Robespierre, more common, more clear, and more de-
clamatory.
He spoke after Morisson, the most zealous of the advocates for the invio-
lability ; and without employing personalities against his adversaries, because
he had not yet had time to contract personal enmities, he appeared at first
to be indignant only at the meanness of the Assembly and the quibblers of
the discussion. " What," said he, " you, the committee, his adversaries,
are laboriously seeking forms for the purpose of trying the ci-devant King!
You are striving to make a citizen of him, to raise him to that quality, that
you may find laws which are applicable to him! And I, on the contrary. 1
say that the King is not a citizen, that he ought to be tried as an enemy,
that we have rather to fight than to try him, and that, telling for nothing in
the contract which unites the French, the forms of the proceedings are not
in the civil law, but in the law of nations"
Thus, then, St. Just discovered in the proceedings not a question of jus-
tice, but a question of war. " Try a king like a citizen!" he exclaimed:
"that word will astonish cool posterity. To try is to apply the law ; l law
is a relation of justice : what relation of justice is there, then, between hu-
manity and kings ?
" To reign is of itself a crime, a usurpation, which nothing can absolve,
which a nation is culpable in suffering, and against which every man has
an entirely personal right. It is impossible to reign innocently ! The mad-
ness of the thing is too great. This usurpation ought to be treated as kings
themselves treat that of their pretended authority. Was not the memory of
Cromwell brought to trial for having usurped the authority of Charles I.?
And assuredly one was no more a usurper than the other; for when a nation
is so base as to suffer itself to be ruled by tyrants, domination is the right
of the first comer, and is not more sacred, more legitimate, on the head of
one, than on that of the other !"
Passing to the question of forms, St. Just discovered in it only fresh and
full of visionary aspirations, think that good is always to be worked out of evil, and are
ready to sacrifice themselves and the whole world to any scheme they have set their minds
upon. St. Just was nicknamed the Apocalyptic." — Haztitt's Life of Napoleon. B.
" St Just exhibited the true feature* of gloomy fanaticism ; a regular visage, dark and
lank hair, a penetrating and severe look, a melancholy expression of countenance, revived
the ima'je of those desperate Scottish enthusiasts of whom modern genius has drawn to
graphic a picture. Simple and unostentatious in his habits, austere in private, and indefati-
gable in public St. Just was the most resolute, because the most sincere, of the Decemvirs.
Enthusiastic in bin passion for the multitude, he disdained to imitate its vires, or pander to
its desires. Steeled against every sentiment of pity, he demanded the execution of victims
in the same manner as the supply of armies." — Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 33
I
inconsistent errors. Forms in the* trial are but hypocrisy. It is not the
mode of procedure which has justified all the recorded vengeance of nations
aoaiust kiiiLis ; hut the right of force against force.
"Some day,'" said he, "people will be astonished that we, in the 18th
century, wen less advanced than the Romans in the time of Ceesar. Then
the tyrant was immolated in full senate, without any other formality than
twenty-three dagger wounds, and without any other law than the liberty of
Kome. And now we set most respectfully about the trial of a man, the
assassin of the people taken in the very fact !"
Considering the question in a different point of view, without any refer-
ence to Louis XVL, St. Just inveighed against subtle arguments and nice
distinctions, which were injurious, he said, to great things. The life of
Louis XVL was nothing. It was the mind which his judges were going to
give proof of, that alarmed him. It was the measure which they were
about to furnish of themselves that struck him. " The men who are going
to try Louis have a republic to found, and those who attach any importance
to the just punishment of a king will never found a republic. . . . Since the
presentation of the report, a certain wavering has manifested itself. Each
approaches the trial of the King with his own particular views. Some seem
apprehensive of having hereafter to pay the penalty of their courage ; others
have not renounced monarchy : these dread an example of virtue which
would be a bond of unity.
'• We adjudge each other with severity. I will even say with fury. We
think only how to modify the energy of the people and of liberty ; while
the common enemy is scarcely accused ; and all, either filled with weakness
or steeped in crime, look at one another before they venture to strike the
first blow.
" Citizens, if the Roman people, after six hundred years of virtue and
hatred of kings, if Great Britain after Cromwell's death, beheld kings restored
in spite of their energy, what ought not the good citizens, the friends of
liberty, among us to fear, on seeing the axe quivering in our hands, and a
nation on the very first day of its liberty respecting the memory of its fet-
ters ? What republic will you establish amidst our private quarrels and our
common weaknesses ? I shall never cease to bear in mind that the spirit in
which the King is tried will be the same as that in which the republic shall
be established. The measure of your philosophy in this judgment will be
also the measure of your liberty in the constitution !"
There were, however, minds which, less tinctured with fanaticism than
that of St. Just, strove to place themselves in a less false position, and to
bring the Assembly to consider things in a more just point of view. " Look,"
said Rouzet, " at the real situation of the King in the constitution of 1791.
He was placed in presence of the national representation for the purpose of
Mag i rival to it. Was it not natural that he should seek to recover as
much as possible of the power which he had lost? Was it not you who
threw open to him these lists, and called him to battle there with the legisla-
tive power? Well, then, in these lists he has been vanquished. He is
alone, disarmed, trampled under foot by twenty-five millions of men, and
would these twenty-five millions of men be guilty of such unprofitable base-
Bees as to immolate the conquered ? Moreover," added Rouzet, " has not
Louis XVI. repressed in his bosom, more than any sovereign in the world,
Jiat everlasting love of rule, a feeling which fills the hearts of all men ? Did
ne not make, in 1789, a voluntary sacrifice of part of his authority ? Has
he not renounced part of the prerogatives which liis predecessors permitted
vol. II* — 5
34 HISTORY OF THE
themselves to exercise ? Has he not abolished servitude in his dominions T
Has he not called to his councils philosophic ministers, and even those em-
piric* whom the public voice designated to him? Has he not convoked
the States-general, and restored to the third estate a portion of its right! .'"
Fauve, deputy of the Seine-Inferieure, had displayed still greater boldness.
Referring to the conduct of Louis XVI., he had ventured to awaken the
recollection of it. "The will of the people," said he, "might have dealt
severely with Titus, as well as with Nero, and it might have found crimes
in him, were they but those committed before Jerusalem. Hut where are
those which you impute to Louis XVI.? I have paid the utmost attention
to the papers that have been read against him ; I find in them nothing but
the weakness of a man who suffers himself to be led away by all the hopes
held out to him of recovering his former authority ; and I maintain that all
the monarchs who died in their beds were more culpable than he. The
good Louis XII. himself, in sacrificing fifty thousand Frenchmen in Italy,
for his own private quarrel, was a thousand times more criminal. Civil list,
veto, choice of ministers, women, relatives, courtiers — here are Caput's
seducers ! And what seducers ! I appeal to 'Ar is tides, Epictetus— let them
say if their firmness would have been proof against such trials. It is on
the hearts of frail mortals that I found my principles, or my errors. Exalt
yourselves, then, to all the greatness of the national sovereignty. Conceive
all the magnanimity that ought to comport with such power. Summon
*. Louis XVI., not as a criminal, but as a Frenchman, and say to him. These
who once lifted thee upon the shield and called thee their king, now set thee
» down ; thou hast promised to be their father, and thou hast not been such.
. . . Make amends by thy virtues as a citizen for the conduct which thou
V/ hast pursued as a kinor."
jr q In the extraordinary exaltation of men's minds, each was led to consider
^ v^\ V" the question under different bearings. Fauchet,* the constitutional priest,
who had gained celebrity in 1789 for having used in the pulpit the language
p,** of the Revolution, asked if society had a right to inflict the punishment of
• death. " Has society," said he, " a right to deprive a man of life which it
^y a^r* has not given to him? It is its duty, undoubtedly, to provide for its own
ij*\-^ conservation ; but is it true that it cannot do so but by the death of the crimi-
nal ? And if it can do it by other means, has it not a right to employ them ?
In this cause," added he, " more than in any other, this truth is peculiarly
applicable. What ! is it for the public interest, for the iuvigoration of the
<* j/b nascent republic, that you would sacrifice Louis XVI.? But is his whole
family to perish by the same stroke that is to fall upon him .' According to
^^* the system of hereditary succession, does not one king immediately step into
t the place of another! Will you release yourselves by the death of Louis
XVI. from the rights to which a whole family deems itself entitled by a
session of several centuries? The destruction of one only is therefore use-
less. On the contrary, let the present head, who shuts the door to all others,
continue to live. Let him live with the hatred which he excites in all at
crats for his vacillation and his concessions. Let him live with the reputa-
tion of his weakness, with the debasement of his defeat, and you will have
less to fear from him than from any other. Let this dethroned King wander
rfV
#
* " CI. Fauchet, a pa'est bom at Dome, embraced the principles of the Revolution with
eagerness, and distinguished himself at the taking of the Ptltilrt. where he appeared at the
head of the assailants with a sabre in his hand. At the time of Louis's trial, he dedued
that he had indeed deserved death, but that, nevertheless, he ought to be saved. Fauchet
was condemned to death as a Girondin, in his forty-ninth year." — Biographie Modernt. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. M
through the vast extent of your republic, without that train which attended
liim in tin- days of his grandeur ; show how insignificant a kinir is, when
reduced to his own person ; manifest a profound disdain for the reraemhmttcc
of what he was, and that remembrance will no longer be a subject of appre-
hension : you will have given a great lesson to mankind ; you will have
dour more for the security and the instruction of the republic, than by spill-
ing blood which does not belong to you. As for the son of Louis XVI.,"
proceeded Fauchet, " if he can become a man we will make him a citizen,
like young Egalite. He shall fight for the republic, and we shall have no
fear that a single soldier of liberty will ever second him, if he should be mad
enough to think of turning a traitor to the country. Let us thus show other
nations thai we are afraid of nothing ; let us prevail on them to follow our
example ; let all together form a European congress, let them depose their
sovereigns, let them send those contemptible creatures to drag on their
obscure lives in wandering through the republics, and let them even allow
them small pensions, for those beings are so destitute of faculties, that neces-
sity itself would not teach them to earn their bread. Set, then, this great
example of the abolition of a barbarous punishment. Suppress that iniqui-
tous way of spilling blood, and, above all, wean the people from the habit
of spilling it. Strive to allay in them that thirst which perverse men would
fain excite, in order to make it subservient to the overthrow of the republic.
Remember that barbarous men are demanding of you one hundred and fifty
thousand more heads, and that, after you have granted them that of the ci-
divant King, you will not have it in your power to refuse them any. Pre-
vent crimes which would agitate for a long time the bosom of the republic,
dishonour liberty, retard its progress, and prove a bar to the acceleration of
the happiness of the world."
This discussion had lasted from the 13th to the 30th of November, and
had excited general agitation. Those whose imaginations were not entirely
swayed by the new order of things, and who still retained some recollection
of 1789, of the benevolence of the monarch, and of the affection that had
been felt for him, could not comprehend how it was that this king, suddenly
transformed into a tyrant, should be consigned to the scaffold. Admitting
even his secret concert with foreigners, they imputed this fault to his weak-
ness, to the persons around him, to the invincible fondness for hereditary
power ; and they were shocked at the idea of an ignominious punishment.
They durst not, however, openly take up the defence of Louis XVI. The
danger to which the country had been exposed by the invasion of the Prus-
sians, and the opinion generally entertained that the court had brought them
upon the frontiers, had excited an irritation, the effects of which fell upon
the unfortunate monarch, and which nobody durst condemn. They con-
tented themselves with opposing in a general manner those who demanded
vengeance. They characterized them as the instigators of disturbances, as
Septembrisers, who wanted to cover France with blood and ruins. Without
defending Louis XVI. by name, they recommended moderation towards
fallen enemies, and vigilance against an hypocritical energy, which, while
appearing to defend the republic by executions, sought only to rule it by
terror, or to compromise it with the rest of Europe. The Girondins had f^
not yet spoken. Their opinion was surmised rather than known, and the
Mountain, in order to have occasion to accuse them, asserted that they
wished to save Louis XVI. They were, however, undecided in this cause.
On the one hand, rejecting the inviolability, and regarding Looifl XVI. as
the accomplice of foreign invasion ; on the other, moved by the sight of a
A
36 HISTORY OF THE
great misfortune, and inclined on every occasion to oppose the violence of
(their adversaries; they knew not what course to steer, and maintained an
equivocal and threatening silence.
Another question at this moment agitated people's minds, and produced
not less perturbation than the preceding. It related to the supply of pro-
visions, which had been a great cause of discord in all the epochs of the
Revolution.
We have already seen what uneasiness and what trouble this subject had
caused to Bailly and Necker, at its commencement in 1789. The same
difficulties had recurred, but with increased urgency, at the conclusion of
1792, and had been attended with the most dangerous disturbances. The
stagnation of trade in all articles not of the first necessity may certainly be
injurious to industry, and eventually to the labouring classes ; But when
corn, the prime necessary of life, becomes scarce, distress and disturbance
immediately ensue. Accordingly, the old police had, in the list of its duties,
ranked attention to the supply of the markets as one of the objects that most
concerned the public tranquillity.
The corn crop in 1792 was not a bad one ; but the harvest had been re-
tarded by the weather, and the thrashing of the grain delayed by want of
hands. The great cause of the scarcity, however, was to be sought else-
where. In 1792, as in 1789, the state of insecurity, the fear of pillage by
the way, and the extortions in the markets, had prevented the farmers from
bringing their commodities. An outcry was instantly raised against fore-
stalling. People inveighed most bitterly against "the wealthy farmers, whom
they called aristocrats, and whose too extensive farms ought, they said, to
be divided. The greater the irritation expressed against them, the less they
were disposed to show themselves in the markets, and the more the dearth
increased. The assignats had likewise contributed to produce it. .Many
farmers, who sold merely for the purpose of hoarding, disliked to accumu-
(late a variable paper, and preferred keeping their corn. As, moreover, corn
daily became scarce, and assignats more abundant, the disproportion between
the sign and the thing kept constantly increasing, and the dearth beeune
more and more sensibly felt. By an accident common in all kinds of
scarcity, precaution being augmented by fear, every one wished to lay in
supplies ; families, the municipalities, the government, made considerable
purchases, and rendered provisions still scarcer and dearer. In Paris espe-
cially, the municipality committed a very serious and a very old blunder.
It bought up corn in the neighbouring departments, and sold it under the
regular price, with the two-fold intention of relieving the lower classes and
increasing its popularity. The consequence was that the dealers, mined by
this new rivalry, withdrew from the market, and the country-people,
attracted by the low price, came and absorbed part of the supplies which the
police had collected at great cost. These vicious measures, resulting
from false economical ideas, and from an excessive ambition of popularity,
were destructive to trade, more necessary in Paris than in any other p]
and where it is requisite to accumulate a greater quantity of corn in a small
space than any where else. The causes of the dearth were, therefore, very
numerous ; namely, terror, which drove the farmers from the markets, the
rise in price occasioned by the assignats, the mania for laj ing in stores of
provisions, and the interference of the Parisian municipality, which injured
trade by its powerful competition.
In such difficulties, it is easy to guess what course would be pursued by
the two classes of men who divided between them the sovereignty of France.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 37
The violent spirits, who were for putting down all opposition hy destroying
the (ipj)osers ; who, in order to prevent the conspiracies which they dreaded,
had sacrificed all those whom they suspected of being adverse to themselves
— such spirits could think of only one way of putting an end to the dearth,
and that again was force. They proposed that the farmers should be roused
from their inertness, that they should be compelled to attend the market*,
and there seP their commodities at a price fixed by the communes ; that the
corn should not be removed from the spot, or go to be stowed away in the
granaries of what were called the forestallers. They insisted therefore on
toned presence in the markets, a fixed price or maximum, the prohibition
of all circulation, and, lastly, the obedience of commerce to their desires, not
from the ordinary motive of profit, but from the fear of punishments and death.
Men of moderate sentiments proposed, on the contrary, that the adminis-
tration should leave commerce to resume its course, by dispelling the fears
of the farmers, by allowing them to fix their own prices, by offering them
the inducement of a free, sure, and advantageous exchange, and by permit-
ting the circulation from one department to another, in order to accommodate
those which grew no corn. They thus proscribed a fixed price and prohi-
bitions of every kind, and demanded, with the economists, the complete
freedom of the trade in corn throughout all France. On the suggestion of.
Barbaroux, who was conversant in such matters, they recommended that
exportation to foreign countries should be subjected to a duty, which should
increase whenever the prices rose, and which would thus act as a check
upon the sending of corn abroad at those times when it was most wanted at
home. They demanded administrative interference solely for the establish-
ment of certain markets, destined for extraordinary cases. They were for
employing severity against such riotous persons only as should molest the
fanners on the high roads and in the markets. Lastly, they proscribed the
use of punishments in regard to trade ; for fear may be a medium of repres-
sion, but it is never a medium of action ; it paralyzes men, but it never
encourages them.
When a party becomes master in a state, it becomes the government, forms
its wishes, and contracts its prejudices; it wishes to advance all things, at
any price, and to employ force as the universal medium. Hence it was that
the ardent friends of liberty had the predilection of all governments for pro-
hibitive systems, and that they found adversaries in those who, more mode-
rate, desired liberty not only in the end but in the means, and claimed
security for their enemies, deliberation in the forms of justice, and absolute
freedom of commerce.
The Girondins, therefore, were advocates of all the systems devised by i
speculative minds against official tyranny. But these new economists, instead I
of encountering, as formerly, a government ashamed of itself and always
condemned by public opinion, found minds intoxicated with the idea of the
public welfare, and which believed that force employed for this end was but
the energy of virtue.
'\'h\< discussion led to another subject of severe reproaches. Roland daily
accused the commune of Wasting money in the purchase of provisions, and
of increasing the dearth at Paris, by reducing the prices out of a vain ambi-
tion of popularity. The party of the Mountain answered Roland by accus-
ing him of misapplying considerable sums granted to his office for the pur-
of com. Off being the chief of the forestallers, and of making himself
the real dictator of France, by getting into his hands the whole stock of the
prime necessaries of life.
D
0
33 HISTORY OF THE
While this subject was under discussion in the Assembly, the inhabitants
of certain departments, particularly in that of the Eure and Loire, were in a
state of insurrection. The country people, excited by the want of bread, and
by the instigations of the cares, upbraided the convention with being the cause
of all their sufferings, and, while they complained that it would not fix a
maximum price for corn, it accused it at the same time of an inU'ntion to
overthrow religion. It was Cambon who furnished occasion for the latter
charge. A passionate hunter after savings, which did not bear upon the war
department, he had declared that the expense of the church establishment
should be suppressed, and that thise who wanted mass might pay for it.
Accordingly, the insurgents failed not to say that religion was undone, and,
from a singular contradiction, they reproached the Convention on the one
hand with moderation on the subject of provisions, and on the other with
violence in regard to the church.
Two members, sent by the Convention, found in the neighbourhood of
Courville an assemblage of several thousand peasants, armed with pitchforks
and fowling pieces, and to save their lives they were obliged to sign an order
fixing the price of grain. Their compliance was censured by the Conven-
tion. It declared that they ought to have suffered death, and annulled the
order which they had signed. The armed force was sent to disperse the
rioters. Thus did the disturbances in the West commence, owing to want
and attachment to religion.
On the motion of Danton, the Assembly, in order to appease the people
of the West, declared that it had no intention to abolish religion ; but it per-
sisted in rejecting the maximum. Thus, still firm amid storms, and pre-
serving a sufficient freedom of mind, the majority of the Convention declared
for liberty of commerce against the prohibitory systems. If we then consider
what was passing in the armies, in the administrations, and in respect of the
trial of Louis XVI., we shall behold a terrible and a singular spectacle.
Hotheaded enthusiasts wanted to renew intoto the composition of the armies
and the administrations, in order to turn out of them such as were lukewarm
or suspected ; they wanted to employ force against commerce, to prevent it
from standing still, and to wreak terrible vengeance for the purpose of daunt-
ing all enemies. Moderate men, on the other hand, were afraid of disor-
ganizing the armies by renewing them, of ruining commerce by usin<i con-
straint, of revolting minds by employing terror; but their adversaries were
irritated even by these fears, and were still more enthusiastically bent on
their scheme for renewing, forcing, and punishing, without exception. Such
was the spectacle presented at this moment by the left against the right side
of the Convention.*
• Here is tho picture of the two sides of the Convention, drawn by Garat, the acutest
observer we have had of the actors in the Revolution :
"T<> this side of the Convention almost all the men of whom I have bepn just speaking
belonged : I could never discover in them any other spirit than that which I bad known in
them. There I saw, then, both that republicanism of sentiment which does not consent to
obey any man, unless that man speaks in the name of the nation, and as the law itself, and
that much more rare republicanism of thought, which has taken to pieces and p"ut together
again all the springs of the organization of a society of men, alike in rights as jn nature;
which has found out by what happy and profound contrivn-ice it is possible to associate in a
great republic what appears inassoeiable — equality and submission to the magistrates, the
agitation fertile in minds and souls, and a constant, immutable order; a government, whoso
power shall always bo absolute over individuals and over the multitude, and always submissive
to the nation; and executive power, whose show and forms of useful splendour shall always
awaken ideas of the splendour of the republic, and never ideas of the greatness of a person.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 39
The sitting of the 30th had been very stormy, owing to the complaints of
Roland against the misconduct of the municipality in regard to provisions,
" On this same side I beheld seated the men best acquainted with those doctrines of political
economy, which teach how to open and to enlarge all the channels of private and of national
wealth ; how to combine the public revenue with the precise portions due to it from the for-
tune of every citizen ; how to create new sources and new rivers for private fortunes by a
good use of what they have poured into the coffers of the republic ; how to protect Rnd to
leave unshackled all the branches of industry, without favouring any ; how to regard great
properties, not as those sterile lakes which absorb and retain all the waters poured by the
mountains into their bosom, but as reservoirs necessary for multiplying and cherishing the
germs of universal fecundity, for the purpose of diffusing them farther and farther over all
those places which would otherwise be left dry and sterile — admirable doctrines, which intro-
duced liberty into the arts and commerce before it existed in governments, but peculiarly
adapted by tbfir essence to the essence of republics, alone capable of giving a solid foundation
to equality, not in a general frugality, which is always violated, and which shackles desires
much less than industry, but in a universal opulence, in those labours, whose ingenious
variety and continual revival can alone absorb, happily for liberty, that turbulent activity of
democracies, which, after it had long agitated, at length swept away the ancient republics
amidst the storms and tempests in which their atmosphere was constantly enveloped.
" On the right side, there were live or six men whose genius was capable of conceiving
those grand theories of social and of economic order, and a great number whose understand-
ings could comprehend and diffuse them. On that side, too, were ranged a certain number
of spirits, in times past extremely impetuous, extremely violent, but who having run the
entire round of their demagogic extravagances, aspired only to disavow and to combat the
follies which they had propagated. There also sat, as the pious kneel at the foot of the altar,
those men whom mild passions, a decent fortune, and an education which had not been
neglected, disposed to honour with all the private virtues that republic which permitted them
to enjoy their repose, their easy benevolence, and their happiness.
" On turning my eyes from this right side to the left, on casting them upon the Mountain,
what a contrast struck me ! There I saw a man agitating himself with all possible emotions,
whose face, of a copper-yellow hue, made him look as if he had issued from the blood-stained
caves of cannibals, or from the scorching threshold of hell ; a man whom, by his convulsive,
abrupt, and unequal gait, you recognised as one of those murderers who had escaped from
the executioner but not from the furies, and who seem desirous of annihilating the human
race, to spare themselves the dread which the sight of every man excites in them. Under
despotism, which he had not covered with blood as he had liberty, this man had cherished
the ambition of producing a revolution in the sciences ; and he had attacked, in systems more
daring than ingenious, the greatest discoveries of modern times and of the human mind. His
eyes, roving through the history of ages, had dwelt upon the lives of four or five great exter-
minators who converted cities into deserts, for the purpose of repeopling those deserts with a
race formed in their own image or in that of tigers; this was all that he had retained of the
annals of nations, all that he knew and that he cared to imitate. From an instinct resembling
that of ravenous beasts rather than from any deep vein of perversity, he had perceived into
how many follies and crimes it is possible to lead an immense people, whose religious and
political chains have just been broken. This is the idea which dictated all his writings, all
his words, all his actions. And he fell but by the dagger of a woman ! and more than fifteen
thousand images of him were set up throughout the republic !
" Beside him were seated men who would not, themselves, have conceived such atrocities,
but who, thrown along with him, by an act of extreme audacity, into events whose height
turned them dizzy, and whose dangers made them shudder, while disavowing the maxims
of the monster, had perhaps already followed them, and were not sorry that it should be feared
that they could follow them still. They abhorred Marat, but they did not abhor making use
of him. They placed him in their midst, they put him in their van, they bore him as it
were, upon their breast, like ahead of Medusa. As the horror of such a man was everywhere,
you fancied that you perceived him everywhere; you almost imagined that he was the whole
Mountain, or that the whole Mountain was, as it were, he. Among the loaders, in fact, there
were several who found no other fault of the misdeeds of Marat but that they were too un-
diwgui
" But among these leaders — and here nothing but truth* makes me differ in opinion from
many worthy men — among these leaders themselves were a great number of persons who,
connected with others by events much more than by their sentiments turned their eyes and
40 HISTORY OF THE
and to the report of the commissioners sent into the department of Enre and
Loire. Every thing is recollected at once when a person commences the
catalogue of his grievances. On the one hand mention had been made of the
massacres, and of the inflammatory puhlieations; on the other, of the vacilla-
tion, the relics of royalism, and the delays opposed to the national vengeance.
Marat had spoken and excited a general murmur. Rohespierre commenced
a speech amidst the noise. "He was about to propose," he said, "a more
effective medium than any other for restoring the public tranquillity, a me-
dium which would bring back impartiality and concord amidst th
bly, which would impose silence on all libellers, on all the authors of pla-
cards, and sweep away their calumnies." — " What is it .'" inquired a mem-
ber, "what is this medium?" — Robespierre resumed. "It is to condemn
to-morrow the tyrant of the French to suffer the penalty of his crimes, and
thus to destroy the rally ing-point of all the conspirators. The next day yon
will decide what is to be done in the matter of provisions, and on the follow-
ing, you will lay the foundations of a free constitution."
This manner, at once emphatic and astute, of proclaiming the mean- of
national salvation, and of making them consist in a measure opposed by the
right side, roused the Girondins, ami forced them to speak out on the g
question of the trial. "You talk of the King," said Bvzot; " the fault of
the disturbances lies at the door of those who wished to step into his place.
When the time comes for expressing my sentiments concerning his feti . I
shall do it with the severity which he has deserved; but that is not the ques-
tion now. The question before us relates to the disturbances, and they pro-
their regrets towards wisdom and humanity ; who would have had many virtues, and mieht
have rendered many services at the moment when they should have begun to be thought
capable of them. To the Mountain repaired, as to military posts, those who had much paa-
sion for liberty and little theory, those who deemed equality threatened or even violated by
grandeur of ideas and elegance of language; those who, elected in hamlets and in workshops,
could not recognise a republican in any other costume than that which they wore themselves;
those who, entering for the first time upon the career of the Revolution, had to signalize that
impetuosity and that violence in which the glory of almost all the great revolutionist! began ;
those who, still young, and better qualified to serve the republic in the field than in the sanetu-
ary of the laws, having seen the republic start into existence amid the crash of thunder, con-
ceived that it was with the crash of thunder that it ought to maintain itself and promulgate
its decrees. On this side also several of those deputies sought an asylum rather than a
who, having been brought up in the proscribed castes of the nobility and the priesthood,
though always pure, were always liable to suspicions, and fled to the top of the Mountain
from the charge of not attaining the height of principles. Thither repaired, to lead their aba*
picions and to live among phantoms, those austere and melancholy characters who, having
too frequently seen falsehood united with politeness, believe in virtue only when it is gloomy,
and in liberty when it is wild. There ranged themselves some of those minds who had bor-
rowed from the exact sciences stiffness at the same time with rectitude, who, proud of possessing
knowledge immediately applicable to the mechanical arts were gl ad to separata therjtaetvas
by their place as well as by their disdain from those scholars, those philosophers, whose ac-
quirements are not so promptly beneficial to the weaver or to the smith, ami do not reach
individuals until they have enlightened society in general. There, lastly, those liked to
whatever might be in other respects their sentiments and their talents, who, from the springs
of their character being too tightly wound up, were disposed to go beyond rather than to I ill
short of the limit that it was necessary to set to revolutionary energy and enthusiasm.
" Such was the idea which I formed of the elements of the two sides of the National Con-
vention.
" To judge of each side from the majority of its elements, both appeared to me capable of
rendering, in different ways and degrees, great services to the republic : the right side for or-
ganizing the interior with wisdom and grandeur; the left, for infusing from their own souls
into the souls of all Frenchmen those republican and popular passions so necessary to a na-
tion assailed on all sides by the league of kings and the soldiery of Europe."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 41
ceed from anarchy. Anarchy proceeds from non-execution of the laws.
The non-execution of the laws will subsist so long as the Convention shall
do nothing to insure order." Legendre* immediately succeeded Buzot, con-
jured his colleagues to abstain from all personality, and to direct their atten-
tion exclusively to the public welfare and the disturbances, which, having no
other object than to save the King, would cease when he should be no more.
He proposed, therefore, to the Assembly to direct that the opinions drawn
up respecting the trial should be laid upon the bureau, printed, and sent to
all the members, and that they should then decide whether Louis XVI. ought
to he tried, without wasting time in hearing too long speeches. Jean-Bon-
St.-Andret exclaimed that there was not even need for these preliminary
questions; and that all they had to do, was to pronounce immediately the
condemnation and the form of the execution. The Convention at length
adopted Legendre's proposal, and decreed that all the speeches should be
printed. The discussion was adjourned to the 3d of December.
( >n the 3d there were calls from all quarters for the putting upon trial, the
drawinir up of the act of accusation, and the determination of the forms ac-
cording to which the proceedings were to be conducted. Robespierre asked
leave to speak, and though it had been decided that all the opinions should
be printed and not read, yet he obtained permission, because he meant to
speak not concerning the proceedings, but against any proceedings at all, and
for a condemnation without trial.
He insisted that to commence a process was to open a deliberation ; that
to admit of deliberation was to admit of doubt, and even of a solution favour-
able to the accused. Now, to make the guilt of Louis XVI. problematical
A\as to accuse the Parisians, the federalists; in short, all the patriots who had
achieved the Revolution of the 10th of August. It was to absolve Louis
XVI., the aristocrats, the foreign powers, and their manifestoes. It was, in
one word, to declare royalty innocent, and the public guilty.
" Observe, too," continued Robespierre, " what audacity the enemies of
liberty have acquired since you have proposed to yourselves this doubt. In
fee month of August last, the King's partisans hid themselves. Whoever
had dared to undertake his apology would have been punished as a traitor. . .
Now, they lift up their audacious heads with impunity; now, insolent writings
inundate Paris and the departments ; armed men, men brought within these
walls, unknown to you and contrary to the laws, have made this city ring
* " The revolutionary life of Legendre is more original than one would suppose, when con-
sidered from the time of his connexion with the Lameths. His drinking tea at the house of
Mirabeau and Robert of Paris, with Orleans ; the twenty or thirty soldiers whom he received
at his house ; his intimacy with Marat and Danton ; his behaviour on the death of the latter;
the part he plaved in the Mountaineer faction and the Jacobin society ; the defence he would
have afforded Robespierre by interposing his own body ; and his fetching the keys to shut
up the hall of the Jacobins, — form a string of events which show a man not wholly incapa-
ble, and of singular versatility of character." — Proudhomme. E.
T '• Jian-Bon-Saiiit-Andre, a Protestant minuter, and deputy to the Convention, declared
against an appeal to the people on the King's trial, and voted for his death. He was one of
the members of the Committee of Public Safety during the reign of the Mountain, and took
possession of the marine department Being despatched on a mission to Brest he tilled the
prisons ; put the public authorities into the hands of the Jacobins ; admitted all the galley-
slaves to depose against the soldiers and the citizens ; and caused the erection of two perma-
nent guillotines. He also converted two of the churches into temples of Reason. He was
after w mis present, in the French fleet, at the celebrated battle of the First of June, in which
Lord Howe was victorious ; and, being slightly wounded, withdrew into a frigate, where he
rem, lined in the hold to have his wound dressed. In the time of the consulate, Saint-Andrd
was made prefect of the department of Mont Tonnerre." — Bibliographic Moderne. E.
vol ii. — 6 d2
42 HISTORY OF THE
with seditious cries, and are demanding the impunity of Louis XVI. All that
you have left to do is to throw open this place to those who are already can-
vassing for the honour of defending him. What do I say? — this very day
Louis divides the representatives of the people. They are speaking for or
against him. Two months ago, who could have suspected that here the
question would be raised whether he is inviolable? But," added Robes-
pierre, " since citizen Petion has submitted as a serious question, and one
that ought to be separately discussed, the question whether the King could
be tried, the doctrines of the Constituent Assembly have again made their
appearance here. O crime! O shame ! The tribune of the French people
has rung with the panegyric of Louis XVI.! We have heard the virtues
and the beneficence of the tyrant extolled. While we have had the gj
difficulty to screen the best citizens from the injustice of a preeipiiate de-
cision, the cause of the tyrant alone is so sacred that it cannot be discussed
either at too great length or with too much freedom ! If we may credit his
apologists, the trial will last several months ; it will continue till next spring,
when the despots are to make a general attack upon us. And what a career
opened to conspirators ! . . . what food given to intrigue and aristocracy ! . .
" Just Heaven ! the ferocious hordes of despotism are preparing to rend
afresh the bosom of our country in the name of Louis XVI. ! Louis XVI.
is still fighting against us from the recesses of his prison, and we doubt
whether he is guilty, whether it is right to treat him as an enemy ! We ask
what are the laws which condemn him ! We invoke the constitution in his
behalf! The constitution forbade what you have done; if he could be pu-
nished by deposition only, you could not have pronounced it without trying
him; you have no right to keep him in prison; he has a right to demand
damages and his enlargement. The constitution condemns you. Throw
yourselves at the feet of Louis and implore his clemency !"
These declamations, full of gall, which contained nothing that St. Just
had not already said, nevertheless produced a profound sensation in the
Assembly, which was for coming to an immediate determination. Robes-
pierre had demanded that Louis XVI. should be tried forthwith : but Petion
and several other members insisted that before the form of the proceedings
was fixed, the putting upon trial should at least be pronounced ; for that,
they asserted, was an indispensable preliminary, with whatever celerity they
might wish that proceeding to be carried through. Robespierre desired to
speak again, and seemed determined to be heard ; but his insolence was
offensive, and he was forbidden the tribune. The Assembly at length
(December 3d) passed the following decree :
" The National Convention declares that Louis XVI. shall be tried by it."
On the 4th the forms of the trial were taken into consideration. Buzot,
who had heard a irreat deal said about royalism. claimed permission to speak
upon a motion of order, and to obviate, as he said, all suspicion, he
demanded the punishment of death against any one who should propose tbe
iblishment of royally in France. Such are the means frequently
adopted by parties to prove that they are incapable of what is laid to their
charge. This useless motion was hailed with numerous plaudits; but the
party of the Mountain, who, according to their system. OMghl not to have
offered any impediment, opposed it out of spleen. Ba/iie desired to he
heard against' it Cries of Vote! Vote! ensued. Philipeaux, joining B*«
•/ire, proposed that they should not attend to any other subject than Louis
XVI., and that they should hold a permanent sitting till his trial v
was then asked what motive the opposers of Buzot's proposition had fo»
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 43
rejecting it, for there was none who could regret royalty. Lejeune replied
that it was reviving a question which had been decided at the time when
royalty was abolished. "Hut," said Rewbel,* "the point under con-
sideration is the addition of a penal clause to the decree of abolition. It is
not therefore reviving a question whieh has already been decided."
Merlin, more clumsy than his predecessors, moved an amendment, and
proposed to make one exception to the punishment of death, namely, in
ie proposal for the re-establishment of royalty should be brought for-
ward in the primary assemblies. At these words cries arose from all quar-
•• There !"' it was said. " the secret is out ! They want a king, but
one taken from among the primary assemblies, from which Marat, Robes-
pierre, and Danton have sprung." Merlin endeavoured to justify himself
by alleging that he meant to pay homage to the sovereignty of the people.
is silenced by being told that he was a royalist, and it was proposed
to call him to order. Guadet, with an insincerity which the most honour-
able men sometimes carry into a rancorous debate, insisted that the Assem-
bly ottghl to respect the freedom of opinion, to which it owed the discovery
of an important secret, and which furnished a key to a great machination.
•' The Assembly," he added, "ought not to regret having heard this amend-
ment, which demonstrates to it that a new despotism was intended to succeed
the despotism which had been destroyed, and we ought to thank Merlin
instead of calling him to order." An explosion of murmurs succeeded the
i of Guadet. Uazire, Merlin, Robespierre, cried out against calumny;
and it is quite true that the charge of a design to substitute a plebeian king
instead of the dethroned monarch, was just as absurd as that of federalism
preferred against the Girondins. The Assembly at length decreed the
penalty of death against any one who should propose the restoration of
royalty in France under any denomination whatever.
The consideration of the forms of the trial and the proposal for a perma-
nent sitting was then resumed. Robespierre again insisted that judgment
should be immediately pronounced. Petion, still victorious through the
support of the majority, induced the Assembly to determine that the sitting
should not be permanent, that the judgment should not be instantaneous, but
that, setting aside all other business, the Assembly should devote its exclu-
sive attention to this subject from eleven till six o'clock every day.
The Hallowing days were occupied by the reading of the papers found at
Laporte's, and others more recently discovered in the palace in a secret
u Inch the King had directed to be constructed in a wall. The door
was of iron, whence it was afterwards known by the name of the iron chest.
The workman employed to construct it, gave information of the circumstance
to Roland, who, being anxious to ascertain the truth of the statement, had
the imprudence to hasten to the spot unaccompanied by witnesses selected
from lbs Assembly, which gave his enemies occasion to assert that he had
• '-Rewind, born at Colmar in 1746, chief of the barristers in the supreme council of
was bag the agent of several German princes who had possessions in Alsace, and
after w arils undertook different causes against them, which, at the time of the Revolution, be
i. pre-ented as a mark of patriotism. In 1791 he presided in the National Assembly, and
Dflxl to Robespierre, was the meml>er who most plainly showed his desire for a republic. In
iwing year he earnestly pressed the King's trial, and demanded that the Queen should
be ineoided in the same decree of accusation. Rewind took care to keep in the back-ground
during 'I" stormiest periixl of Robespierre's reign, and after his fall, declared loudly against
in-, lie was a notes! man, and terminated his legislative career at the overthrow
of the Directory, under which his eldest son was adjutant-general." — Biographic Modeme.
44 HISTORY OF THE
abstracted some of the papers.* There Roland found all the dc
relative to the communications which the court had held with the emigrants
and with different members of the assemhlies. The negociations with
Mirabeau were there detailed, and the memory of the great orator was about
to he proscribed, when, at the suggestion of Manuel, his passionate admirer,
the committee of public instruction was directed to make a more minute ex-
amination of those documents. A commission was afterwards appointed to
draw up from these papers a declaration of the facts imputed to Louis XVI.
This declaration when prepared was to be submitted to the approval of the
Assembly. Louis XVI. was then to appear in person at the bar of the Con-
vention, and to be interrogated by the president upon every article of the
declaration. After this examination, two days were to be allowed for his
defence, and on the following day judgment was to be pronounced by the
vote. The executive power was directed to take all necessary measures for
insuring the public tranquillity during the passage of the King to and from
the Assembly. These arrangements were decreed on the 9th.
On the 10th the declaration was presented to the Assembly, and the
appearance of Louis XVI. was fixed for the following day, December the
llth.t
The unfortunate monarch was thus about to appear before the National
Convention, and to undergo an examination concerning all the acts of his
reign. This intelligence had reached Clery by the secret means of corres-
pondence which he had secured outside the prison, and it was with trem-
bling that he imparted it to the disconsolate family. Not daring to tell the
King himself, he had communicated it to Madame Elizabeth, and had more-
over informed her that during the trial the commune had determined to sepa-
rate Louis XVI. from his family. He agreed with the princess upon a
method of corresponding during this separation. This method consisted in
a handkerchief which Clery, who was to remain with the King, was to trans-
mit to the princesses, if Louis XVI. should be ill. This was all that the
unfortunate prisoners could calculate upon communicating to one another.
The King was apprized by his sister of his speedily required appearance, and
of the separation which they were to undergo during the trial. He received
the tidings with perfect resignation, and prepared to encounter with firmness
that painful scene.
The commune had given directions that early in the morning of the 1 1 th
all the administrative bodies should meet ; that all the sections should be
under arms ; that the guard of all the public places, chests, depots. &
should be augmented by two hundred men for each post; that numerous
reserves should be stationed at different points, with a strong artillery ; and
that an escort of picked men should accompany the carriage.
Accordingly, on the morning of the 11th, the generate announced to the
* " Roland acted very imprudently in examining the contents of the clu at, alone and
without witnesses, instead of calling in the commissioners who were in the palace at the
time. One document of importance was found, which the Jacobins turned into an imple-
ment against the Girondins. It was an overture from that party addressed to Louis XVI.
shortly before the 10th of August, engaging to oppose the motion for his forfeiture, provided
he would recall to his councils, the three discarded ministers of the Girotxlin party." —
Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
f " Early on that day, the dauphin, who often prevailed on his majesty to play a game of
Siam with him, was so pressing, that the King, in spite of his situation, could not refuse him.
The young prince lost every game, and twice he could get no farther than sixteen. ' When-
ever,' cried he, in a little pet, ' I get to the point of sixteen, I am sure not to win the game.' The
King said nothing, but he seemed to feel the singular coincidence of the words." — Clery. E
t*
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
45
capita] this novel and melancholy scene. Numerous troops surrounded the
Temple, and the din of arm* and the tramp of horses reached die prisoners,
(footed ignorance of the cause of all this bustle. At nine in the morn-
inir. die family repaired as usual to the King's apartment to breakfast. The
municipal officers, more vigilant than ever, prevented, by their presence, any
outpouring of affection. The family was at length separated. In vain the
King desired that his son should be left with him for a few momenta. _ In
spite of his entreaties, the young prince was taken away, and he remained
alone tor about two hours.* The mayor of Paris, and the procureur of the
commune then arrived, and communicated to him the decree of the Conven-
tion, summoning him to its bar by the name of Louis Capet. M Capet,"
replied the prince, "was the name of one of my ancestors, but it is not
mine." He then rose, and entered the carriage of the mayor, which was
Waiting for him. Six hundred picked men surrounded the vehicle. It was
preceded by three pieces of cannon and followed by three more. A nume-
rous body of cavalry formed the advance and the rear guard. A great con-
course of people surveyed in silence this sad cavalcade, and suffered this
rigour as it had long submitted to that of the old government. There were
some shouts, but very few. The prince was not moved by them, and calmly
conversed upon the objects that presented themselves on the way. Having
arrived at the Feuillans, he was placed in a room to await the orders of the
Assembly.
During this interval, several motions were made relative to the manner in
which Louis XVI. should be received. It was proposed that no petition
should be heard, that no deputy should be allowed to speak, that no token
of approbation or disapprobation should be given to the King. " We must
awe him," said Legendre, " by the silence of the graye." Murmurs con-
demned these cruel words. Defermont proposed that a seat should be pro-
vided for the accused. This motion was deemed too just to be put to the
vote, and a seat was placed at the bar. Out of a ridiculous vanity, Manuel
proposed to discuss the question on the order of the day, that they might not
appear to be wholly occupied with the King, even though, he added, they
should make him wait at the door. They began accordingly to discuss a
law concerning the emigrants.
At length, Santerre communicated the arrival of Louis XVI. Barrere was
president. " Citizens," said he, " the eyes of Europe are upon you. Pos-
terity will judge you with inflexible severity ; preserve then the dignity and
the dispassionate coolness befitting judges. Recollect the awful silence
which accompanied Louis, when brought back from Varennes."
• " At eleven o'clock, when the King was hearing the dauphin read, two municipal officers
walked in, and told his majesty that they were come to carry the young Louis to his mother.
The King desired to know why he was taken away ; the commissioners replied, that they
were executing the orders of the council of the commune. The King tenderly embraced his
son, and charged me to conduct him. On my return, I assured his majesty that I had de-
livered the prince to the Queen, which appeared a little to relieve his mind. His majesty
afterwards for some minutes walked about his room in much agitation, then sat down in an
arm-chair at the head of the bed. The door stood ajar, but the otficer did not like to go in,
wishing, as he told me, to avoid questions; but half an hour passing thus in dead ■takes, he
became uneasy at not hearing the King move, and went softly in; he found him leaning with
his head upon his hand, apparently in deep thought. The King, on being disunited, said,
' What do you want with me V — ' I was afraid,' answered the officer, ' tleit you were unwell.'
'I am obliged to you,' replied the King, in an accent replete with anguish, ' but the manner
in which they have taken my son from me cuts me to the heart.' The municipal otficer
withdrew, without saying a word." — Clery. E.
46 HISTORY OF THE
It was about half-past two when Louis appeared at the bar. The mavor
and Generals Santerre and WittengofF were at his side. Profound silence
pervaded the Assembly. All were touched by the dignity of Louis, by the
composure of his looks, under so great a reverse of fortune. The deputies
of the centre and the Girondins were deeply affected. Even St. Just, Marat,
and Robespierre, felt their fanaticism fail them, and were astonished to find
a man in the King whose execution they demanded.
" Be seated,"* said Barrere to Louis, " and answer the questions that
shall be put to you." Louis seated himself, and listened to the reading of
the acte enonciatif, article by article. All the faults of the court were there
enumerated and imputed to Louis XVI. personally. He was charged with
the interruption of the sittings of the 20th of June, 1789, with the* bed of
justice held on the 23d of the same month, the aristocratic conspiracy
thwarted by the insurrection of the 14th of July, the entertainments of the
life-guards, the insults offered to the national cockade, the refusal to sanction
the declaration of rights, as well as several constitutional articles; lastly, all
the facts which indicated a new conspiracy in October and which were fol-
lowed by the scenes of the 5th and 6th ; the speeches of reconciliation which
had succeeded all these scenes, and which promised a change that was not
sincere ; the false oath taken at the Federation of the 14th of July ; the secret
practices of Talon and Mirabeau to effect a counter-revolution ; the money
spent in bribing a great number of deputies ; the assemblage of the *' knights
of the dagger" on the 28th of February, 1791 ; the flight of Varennes ; the
fusillade of the Champ de Mars; the silence observed respecting the treaty
of Pilnitz ; the delay in the promulgation of the decree which incorporated
Avignon with France ; the commotions at Nimes, Montauhan, Monde, and
Jales ; the continuance of their pay to the emigrant life-guards and the dis-
banded constitutional guard ; the insufficiency of the armies assembled on
the frontiers ; the refusal to sanction the decree for the camp of twenty thou-
sand men ; the disarming of the fortresses ; the tardy communication of the
march of the Prussians ; the organization of secret societies in the interior
of Paris ; the review of the Swiss and the troops composing the garrison
of the palace on the morning of the 10th of August; the doubling of that
guard; the summoning of the mayor to the Tuileries ; and, lastly, the
effusion of blood, which had been the consequence of these military dispo-
sitions.
By refusing to admit as natural regret for his former power, every point
in the conduct of the king was capable of being turned into a crime ; for his
conduct was but one long regret, mingled with some timid efforts to recover
what he had lost. After each article the president paused and said : " What
have you to answer ?" The King, always answering in a firm voice, denied
some of the facts, imputed others to his ministers, and constantly supported
• " When the president, Barrere, said to his King, ' Louis, asaeyrz vous,' \vc foel more
indignation even than when he is accused of crimes which he never committed, One must
have sprung from the very dust not to respect past obligations, particularly when misfortune
has rendered them sacred ; and vulgarity joined to crime inspires us with as much contempt
as horror." — Madame de Star I. E.
" Barrere escaped during the different ebullitions of the Revolution, because he was a man
without principle or character, who changed and adapted himself to every side. He had the
reputation of being a man of talent, but I did not find him so. I employed him to write, but
he displayed no ability. He used many flowers of rhetoric, but no solid argument" —
Napoleon's Conversations with O'Mcara. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 4'
himself upon the constitution, from which he declared that he had never
deviated. His answers were all very temperate ; but to the charge, You
spilt the blood of the people on the 10th of August, he exclaimed with
emphasis : " No, sir, no; it was not 1 !"
All the papers were then shown to him, and, availing himself of a respect-
able privilege, he refused to avow part of them, and disputed the existence
of the iron chest. This denial produced an unfavourable effect, and it tan
impolitic, because the fact was demonstrated. He then demanded a copy
of the act of accusation and of the other papers, and counsel to assist him in
his defence.
The president signified that he might retire. He partook of some refresh-
ment provided for him in the next room, and then getting into the carriage,
was conveyed back to the Temple. He arrived there at half-past six, and
the first thing he did was to ask to see his family. This favour was refused,
and he was told that the commune had ordered the separation during the
proceedings. At half-past eight, when supper was announced, he again
desired to kiss his children. The jealousy of the commune rendered all his
keepers hardhearted, and this consolation was again denied hiin.
The Assembly was meanwhile thrown into a tumult in consequence of
the application of Louis XVI. for the assistance of counsel. Petion strongly
insisted that this application ought to be granted. It was opposed by Tal-
lien,* Chabot, Merlin, and Billaud-Varennes,t who said that it was nothing
but an attempt to delay judgment by means of chicanery. The Assembly
in the end granted counsel. A deputation was sent to communicate the
circumstance to Louis XVI., and to ask whom he would choose. The King
named Target, or, if he could not have him, Tronchet,J and both if possible.
He also desired to be furnished with pen, ink, and paper, in order to pre-
pare his defence, and to be permitted to see his family. The Convention
forthwith decided that he should be supplied with materials for writing, that
intimation should be given to the two advocates whom he had chosen, that
he should be allowed to communicate freely with them, and that he should
be allowed to see his family.
Target refused the commission given to him by Louis XVI., assigning as
• " Jean Lambert Tallien, son to the porter of a nobleman, became afterwards an attor-
ney's clerk, and, lastly, corrector of the press in the Moniteur office. On the 10th of August,
1792, he was named secretary-general for the commune, and, from that time, began to play
a conspicuous part in the Revolution. He warmly urged the trial of Louis XVI., and
opposed the granting him counsel. During the year 1793 he was out on missions, and
everywhere conducted himself like a zealous partisan of revolutionary measures. Love,
however, appeared all at once to change his character. Madame de Fouteuai, whose maiden
name was Cabarrus, had come to Bordeaux in order to embark for Spain, whither she was
going to join her husband ; she was imprisoned, and, fearing to increase the number of vic-
tims, she, in order to save her life, flattered the violent passion with which she had inspired
Tallien, who, from that time, entirely given up to luxury and pleasure, not only ceased to
persecute, but, in 1794, dissolved the military and revolutionary tribunals in Bordeaux. In
the same year he was one of those who materially assisted in bringing Robespierre to the
scaffold. In 1806, Tallien was commissioner of the board of trade at Alicant." — Biographic
Moderne. E.
f " Of all the sanguinary monsters, observed Napoleon, who reigned in the Revolution,
Billaud de Varennes was the worst." — Voice from St. Helena. E.
t " One of Napoleon's first acts on becoming First Consul, was to place Tronchct at the
head of the Court of Cassation. ' Tronchet,' he said, ' was the soul of the civil code, as I
was its demonstrator. He was gifted with a singularly profound and correct understanding,
but he could not descend to developments.' Tronchet died in 1806." — Las Cases. E.
48 HISTORY OF THE
a reason that he had been obliged to discontinue his practice ever since the
year 1785.* Tronchet immediately wrote that he was ready to undertake
the defenee committed to him ; and, while the Assembly was considering
of the appointment of a new counsel, a letter was received from a citizen of
seventy, the venerable Malesherbes,t the friend and companion of Turgot,
and the most respected magistrate in France. The noble veteran wrote as
follows to the president : " I have been twice called to be counsel for him
who was my master, in times when that duty was coveted by every one :
I owe him the same service now that it is a duty which many people deem
dangerous." He requested the president to inform Louis XVI. that he was
ready to devote himself to his defence.
Many other citizens made the like offers, which were communicated to
the King. He declined them all ; accepting only Tronchet and Malesherbes.
The commune decided that the two counsel should undergo the strictest
search before they were admitted to their client. The Convention, which
had directed free communication, renewed its order, and they were allowed
to enter the Temple freely. On seeing Malesherbes, the King ran forward
to meet him. The venerable old man sank at his feet and burst into tears.
The King raised him, and they remained long clasped in each other's em-
brace.:}: They immediately fell to work upon his defence. Commissioners
of the Assembly brought the documents every day to the Temple, and had
directions to communicate them, but not to let them go out of their posses-
sion. The King perused them with great attention, and with a composure
which every time excited more and more astonishment in the commis-
sioners.
The only consolation which he had solicited, that of seeing his family,
had not yet been granted him, notwithstanding the decree of the Convention.
The commune, continuing to raise obstacles, had demanded a copy of the
decree. " It is to no purpose to order," said Tallien to the Convention;
"if the commune does not choose to comply, nothing will come of it."
These insolent words had raised a violent tumult. The Assembly, however,
modifying its decree, ordered that the king should be allowed to have his
two children with him, but on condition that they should not return to their
mother till the trial was over. The King, sensible that they were more
necessary to their mother, would not take them from her, and submitted to
this new sorrow with a resignation which no circumstances could shake.
The further the proceedings advanced, the more the importance of the
• " Cambaceres declared that Target's example endangered public morality. Target
attempted in vain to repair the disgrace, by publishing a short defence of the King." — La-
ertttlle. E.
■j- " Christian William de Lamoignon de Malesherbes, an eminent French statesman, was
the son of the Chancellor of France, and was born at Paris in 1721. In the year 1750 he
succeeded his father as president >f the court of aids, and was also made superintendent of
the press, in both which offices he displayed a liberal and enlightened policy. On the
banishment of the parliaments and the suppression of the court of aids, Malesherbes was
exiled to his country-scat. In 1775 he was appointed minister of state. He took no part in
the proceedings which led to the overthrow of the monarchy ; but on the decree of the I
vention for the King's trial, he emerged from his retreat to become the voluntary advocate of
his sovereign. Malesherbes was guillotined in 1794, and almost his whole family were ex-
tirpated by their merciless persecutors.'' — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
i " The first time M. Malesherbes entered the Temple, the King clasped him in his arms
and said, ' Ah, is it you, my friend ? You fear not to endanger your own life to save mine ;
but all will be useless ; they will bring me to the scaffold ; no matter — I shall gain my
cause, if I leave an unspotted memory behind me." — Hue. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 49
question was felt Some were aware that, to proceed against ancient roy-
alty by regicide, was to involve, themselves in an inexorable system of ven-
geance and cruelty, and to declare war to the death against the old order of
things. They would fain abolish that state of things, but they had no wish
to destroy it in so violent a manner. Others, on the contrary, were desirous
of engaging in this war to the death, which admitted of no weakness, no
turning back, and placed an abyss between the monarchy and the Revolu-
tion. In this comprehensive question, the person of the King was almost
entirely lost sight of; and the inquiry was confined to this one point, whether
they ought or ought not to break entirely with the past by a signal and
terrible act. They fixed their eyes on the result only, regardless of the
victim upon which the stroke was about to fall.
The Girondins, persevering in their attacks on the Jacobins, were conti-
nually reminding them of the crimes of September, and holding them up as
anarchists who wished to rule the Convention by terror, and to sacrifice the
King for the purpose of setting up triumvirs in his stead. Guadct well-nigh
succeeded in driving them from the Convention, by procuring a decree that
the electoral assemblies of all France should be convoked, in order to con-
firm or to cashier their deputies. This proposition, decreed and reported in
a few minutes, had exceedingly alarmed the Jacobins. Other circumstances
annoyed them stdl more. The federalists continued to arrive from all quar-
ters. The municipalities sent a multitude of addresses, in which, while
approving of the republic and congratulating the Assembly on having insti-
tuted it, they condemned the crimes and the excesses of anarchy. The
affiliated societies still continued to reproach the mother society for harbour-
ing in its bosom bloody-minded men, who perverted the public morals, and
were ready to attempt the overthrow of the Convention itself. Some of
them denied their mother, declared that they renounced all connection with
her, and that at the first signal they would fly to Paris to support the Con-
vention. All of them particularly insisted on the erasure of Marat's name,
and some even of that of Robespierre also.
The alarmed Jacobins acknowledged that public opinion was indeed chang-
ing for the worse in France ; they recommended to each other to keep
united, and to lose no time in writing to the provinces for the purpose of
enlightening their misled brethren ; they accused the traitor Roland of inter-
cepting their correspondence and substituting for it hypocritical papers which
perverted people's minds. They proposed a voluntary donation for circu-
lating good papers, and particularly the admirable speeches of Robespierre,
and sought means for transmitting them in spite of Roland, who, they said,
violated the liberty of the post. They agreed, however, on one point, that
Marat compromised them by the violence of his writings ; and it was neces-
sary, according to them, that the mother society should declare to France,
what difference it found between Marat, whose inflammatory disposition
carried him beyond all bounds, and the wise and virtuous Robespierre, who,
always keeping within proper limits, desired, without weakness, but with-
out exaggeration, what was just and possible. A vehement quarrel ensued
between these two. It was admitted that Marat was a man of strong, bold
mind, but too hotheaded. He had been serviceable, it was said, to the cause
of the people, but he knew not where to stop. Marat's partisans replied
that he did not deem it necessary to execute all that he had said, and that he
knew better than any one else where to stop. They quoted various expres-
sions of his. Marat had said, " There needs but one Marat in a republic." —
" I demand the greater to obtain the less." — " My hand should widier rather
VOL. II. — 7 £
50 HISTORY OF THE
than write, if I thought that the people would literally execute all that 1
advise.** — " I cheat the people, because I know that it is driving a bargain
with me." The tribunes had supported this justification of Marat by their
applause. The society, however, had resolved to issue an address, in
which, describing the characters of Marat and Robespierre, it would show
what difference it made between the sound sense of the one, and the vehe-
mence of the other.* After this measure, they purposed adopting several
* Among the singular opinions expressed concerning Marat and Robespierre, must not be
omitted that which was put forth by the society of the Jacobins, at their sitting of Sunday,
December 23, 1792. I know nothing that furnishes a better picture of the spirit and dispo-
sitions of the moment than the discussion which took place relative to the character of those
two persons. Here follows an extract from it :
" Desfieux read the correspondence. A letter from a society, whose name has escaped us,
gave rise to a warm discussion, which cannot fail to suggest some very important reflections.
This society informed the mother society that it was invariably attached to the principles of
the Jacobins; it observed that it had not suffered itself to be blinded by the calumnies circu-
lated so profusely against Marat and Robespierre, and that it retained all its esteem and all
its veneration for those two incorruptible friends of the people.
" This letter was loudly applauded, but it was followed by a discussion which Brissot and
Gorsas, who are most assuredly prophets, had predicted on the preceding day.
" Robert. — ' It is very astonishing that the names of Marat and Robespierre are always
coupled together. How corrupt the public mind must be in the departments, since no differ-
ence is made between these two defenders of the people ! Both possess virtue, it is true.
Marat is a patriot, he has estimable qualities, I admit, but how different is he from Robes-
pierre ! The latter is discreet, moderate in his means, whereas Marat is exaggerated, and
has not that discretion which characterizes Robespierre. It is not sufficient to be a patriot ;
in order to serve the people usefully, it is necessary to be reserved in the means of execution,
and most assuredly Robespierre surpasses Marat in the means of execution.
" ' It is high time, citizens, to tear off the veil which hides the truth from the eyes of the
departments. It is high time that they should know that we can distinguish between Robes-
pierre and Marat. Let us write to the affiliated societies what we think of those two citi-
zens ; for I confess I am a staunch partisan of Robespierre, and yet I am not a partisan of
Marat (Murmurs in the tribunes and in part nf the halL)
" Bourdon. — ' We ought long since to have acquainted the affiliated societies with our
opinion of Marat. How could they ever connect Marat and Robespierre together ! Robes-
pierre is a truly virtuous man, with whom we have no fault to find from the commencement
of the Revolution. Robespierre is moderate in his means, whereas Marat is a violent writer,
who does great harm to the Jacobins (murmurs) ; and, besides, it is right to observe that
Marat does us great injury with the National Convention. The deputies imagine that we
are partizans of Marat ; we are called Maratists; if we show that we duly appreciate Marat,
then you will see the deputies draw nearer the Mountain where we sit, you will see them
come into the bosom of this society, you will see the affiliated societies that have gone astray
return and rally anew around the cradle of liberty. If Marat is a patriot, he must accede to
the motion that I am going to make. Marat ought to sacrifice himself to the cause of liberty.
I move that his name be erased from the list of the members of this society.'
" This motion excited some applause, violent murmurs in part of the hall, and vehement
agitation in the tribunes.
" It will be recollected, that a week before this scene of a new kind, Marat had been covered
with applause in the society; the population of the tribunes, which has a memory, recollected
this circumstance perfectly well ; it could not conceive that so speedy a change had been
wrought in opinions; and, as the moral instinct of the people is always just, it was highly
indignant at the motion of Bourdon : the people therefore defended their virtuous friend,-
they did not imagine that in a week he could have forfeited his claim to the regard of the
society ; for, though it may be said that ingratitude is a virtue of republics, it will be very
difficult to accustom the French people to this kind of virtue,
" The coupling of the names of Marat and Robespierre was not revolting to the people.
Their ears had long been accustomed to their being so united in' the correspondence ; and,
after witnessing the indignation of the society on several occasions, when the club<< of the
other departments demanded the expulsion of Marat, they did not deem it right on this day
to support the motion of Bourdon.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 51
others, and in particular they intended to demand continually the departure
of the federalists for the frontiers. If news arrived that the army of Du-
mouriez was weakened by desertion, they cried out that it was indispensably
-ary to send off federalists to reinforce it. Marat wrote that the volun-
teers who had first marched had been gone above a year, and that it was
time to send off those who were sojourning in Paris to relieve them. Intel-
ligence had just been received that Custine had been obliged to give up
Frankfort, and that Beurnonville had unsuccessfully attacked the electorate
of Treves ; and the Jacobins maintained that, if these two generals had had
with them the federalists who were uselessly loitering in the capital, they
would not have experienced these checks.
The various accounts of the useless attempt of Beurnonville, and the check
sustained by Custine, had strongly agitated the public mind. Both these
circumstances might easily have been foreseen, for Beurnonville, attacking
inaccessible positions in an unfavourable season and without sufficient means,
could not possibly succeed ; and Custine, persisting in not falling back spon-
taneously upon the Rhine, lest he should confess his temerity, was sure to
be forced to a retreat upon Mayence. Public misfortunes furnish parties with
ionfl for reproach. The Jacobins, hating the generals suspected of
aristocracy, declaimed against them, and accused them of being Feuillans,
and Girondins. Marat did not fail to inveigh anew against the mania of
conquest, which, he said, he had always condemned, and which was nothing
but a disguised ambition of the generals to attain a formidable degree of
power. Robespierre, directing the censure according to the suggestions of
his hatred, maintained that it was not the generals who ought to be accused,
- A citizen of an affiliated society pointed out to the society how dangerous it was in fact
to join together the names of Marat and Robespierre. ' In the departments,' said he, ■ a
great difference is made between Marat and Robespierre ; but they are surprised at the silence
of the society concerning the differences which exist between those two patriots. I propose
to the society, after it has decided the fate of Marat, to make no further mention of affilia-
tion— a word that ought never to be uttered in a republic — but to employ the term
fraternization .'
" Dufourny. — ' I oppose the motion for expelling Marat from the society. ( Vehement
applause.) I will not deny the difference that exists between Marat and Robespierre.
These two writers, who may resemble one another in patriotism, have very striking differ-
ences. They have both served the cause of the people, but in different ways. Robespierre
has defended the true principles with method, with firmness, and with all becoming discre-
tion ; Marat, on the contrary, has frequently passed the bounds of sound reason and pru-
dence. Still, though admitting the difference that exists between Marat and Robespierre, I
am not in favour of the erasure: it is possible to be just without being ungrateful to Marat.
Marat has been useful to us ; he has served the Revolution with courage. ( Vehement ap-
plause from the society and the tribunes.) There would be ingratitude in striking him
jut of the list. (Yes, yes, from all quarters.) Marat has been a necessary man. Revo-
lutions have need of strong heads, capable of uniting states ; and Marat is one of tboso rare
men who are necessary for the overthrow of despotism. (Applause.) I conclude with pro-
posing that the motion of Bourdon be rejected, and that merely a letter be written to the
affiliated societies to acquaint them with the difference that we make between Marat and
Robespierre.' (Applause.)
" The society resolved that it will cease to use the term affiliation, deeming it offensive to
republican equality, and substitute the word fraternization in its stead. The society then
resolved that Marat should not be erased from the list of its members, but that a circular
rfhall be sent to all the societies having the right of fraternization, in which shall be detailed
the resemblances and the differences, the conformities and the difformities, which may be
found between Marat and Robespierre, that all those who fraternize with the Jacobins may
be able to pronounce, with a thorough knowledge of circumstances, respecting those two
defenders of the people, and that they may at length learn to separate two names which they
invariably but erroneously couple together."
52 HISTORY OF THE
but the infamous faction which controlled the Assembly and the executive
power. The traitor Roland, the intriguing Brissot, the scoundrels Louvet,
Guadet, and Vergniaud, were the authors of all the calamities of France.
He longed to be the first whom they should murder, but he desired above
all things to have the pleasure of denouncing them. Dumouriez and Custine,
he added, knew them, and took care not to class themselves along with
them ; but everybody feared them, because they had at their disposal money,
places, and all the resources of the republic. Their intention was to make
themselves its masters: to this end they fettered all genuine patriots; they
prevented the developement of their energy, and thus exposed France to the
risk of being conquered by her enemies. Their principal intention was to
destroy the society of the Jacobins and to butcher all who should have the
courage to oppose them. " And for my part," exclaimed Robespierre,
** I desire to be assassinated by Roland !" (Sitting of the 12th of De-
cember.)
This furious hatred, spreading throughout the society, agitated it like a
stormy sea. It promised itself a mortal combat against the faction. It
renounced beforehand all idea of reconciliation, and as there had been talk
of a fresh plan of compromise, its members bound themselves never on any
account to kiss and befriends.
Similar scenes were occurring in the Assembly during the time allowed
to Louis XVI. for preparing his defence. Every opportunity was seized
for repeating that the royalists were everywhere threatening the patriots
and circulating pamphlets in favour of the King. Thuriot proposed an ex-
pedient which was to punish with death any one who should conceive the
design of breaking the unity of the republic, or separating any portion from
it. This was a decree directed against the fable of federalism, that is,
against the Girondins. Buzot lost no time in replying by another decree,
and insisted on the exile of the Orleans family. The parties charged each
other with falsehood, and revenged themselves for calumnies by other calum-
nies. While the Jacobins accused the Girondins of federalism, the latter
reproached the former with destroying the throne for the Duke of Orleans,
and with desiring the sacrifice of Louis XVI. merely for the purpose of
rendering it vacant.
The Duke of Orleans* lived in Paris striving in vain to make himself be
forgotten in the bosom of the Convention. This place most assuredly was
not suited to him, amidst furious demagogues. But whither was he to fly ?
In Europe, the emigrants were ready for him, and insult. nay. perhaps even
death, threatened this kinsman of royalty, who had repudiated his birthright
and his rank. In France, he strove to disguise that rank under the humblest
titles, and he called himself Egalite. But still there remained the inefface-
able remembrance of his former existence, and the ever-present testimony
of his immense wealth. Unless he were to put on rags, and render himself
• " The conduct of this nobleman all through the Revolution was, in my opinion, uncalled
for, indecent, and profligate, and his fate not unmerited. Persons situated as he was, cannot
take a decided part one way or the other, without doing violence either to the dictates of
reason and justice, or to all their natural sentiments ; unless they are characters of that
heroic stamp, as to be raised above suspicion or temptation ; the only way for all others it to
stand aloof from a struggle, in which they have no alternative, but to commit a parricide
on their country, or their friends ; and to await the issue in silence and at a distance. No
confidence can be placed in those excesses of public principle, which are founded on the
sacrifice of every private affection and of habitual self-esteem." — HazliU's Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 53
contemptible by dint of cynicism, how was he to escape suspicion ? In the
ranks of the Girondins, he would have been undone the very first day, and
all the charges of royalism preferred against them would have been justified.
In those of the Jacobins, he would have the violence of Paris for a sup-
port, but he could not have escaped the accusations of the Girondins ; and
this it was that actually befel him. The latter, never forgiving him for
having joined the ranks of their enemies, supposed that, to make himself
endurable, he lavished his wealth on anarchists, and lent them the aid of
his mighty fortune.
The suspicious Louvet thought better of him, and sincerely believed that
he still cherished the hope of royalty. Without sharing that opinion, but
for the purpose of combating the sally of Thuriot by another, Buzot ascended
the tribune. " If," said he, " the decree proposed by Thuriot is calculated
to restore confidence, I am going to propose one which will do so in no less
a degree. The monarchy is overthrown, but it still lives in the habits, in
the memory, of its ancient creatures. Let us imitate die Romans. They
expelled Tarqaio and his family : like them let us expel the family of the
Bourbons. One part of that family is in confinement; but there is another,
far more dangerous, because it was more popular — I mean that of Orleans.
The bust of Orleans was paraded through Paris. His sons, boiling with
courage, are distinguishing themselves in our armies, and the very merits
of that family render it dangerous to liberty. Let it make a last sacrifice
to the country by exiling itself from her bosom ; let it carry elsewhere the
misfortune of having stood near the throne, and the still greater misfortune
of bearing a name which is hateful to us, and which cannot fail to shock the
ear of a free man."
Louvet followed Buzot, and, apostrophizing Orleans himself, reminded
him of the voluntary exile of Collatinus, and exhorted him to follow his
example. Lanjuinais referred to the elections of Paris, at which Orleans
was returned, and which were held under the daggers of the anarchical fac-
tion. He referred to the efforts that had been made to appoint a chancellor
of the house of Orleans to the post of minister at war, and to the influence
which the sons of that family had acquired in the army ; and for all these
reasons he moved the banishment of the Bourbons. Bazire, St. Just, and
Chabot, opposed the motion, rather out of opposition to the Girondins than
kindness for Orleans. They maintained that it was not the moment to per-
secute the only one of the Bourbons who had conducted himself with sin-
cerity towards the nation ; that they must first punish the Bourbon prisoner,
then frame a constitution, and afterwards turn their attention to such citizens
as had become dangerous ; that, at any rate, to send Orleans out of France
was to send him to death, and they ought at least to defer that cruel measure.
Banishment was nevertheless decreed by acclamation. The only point,
then, was to fix the period of banishment in drawing up the decree. " Since
you resort to the ostracism against Egalite," said Merlin, " employ it against
all dangerous men, and first and foremost I demand it against the executive
power." — "Against Roland!" exclaimed Albitte. "Against Roland and
Pache !" added Barrcre, " who are become a cause of dissension amoiiir us.
Let them both be banished from the ministry, to give us back tranquillity
and union." Kersaint, however, was apprehensive lest England should
take advantage of this disorganization of the ministry to commence a disas-
trous war against us, as she did in 1757, when d'Argenson and Mackan
were dismissed.
e2
54 HISTORY OF THE
Rewbel asked if a representative of the people could be banished, and if
Philip Egalite did not belong in that quality to die nation which had deputed
him.
These different observations checked the excitement. The Assembly
stopped short, reverted to the original motion, and, without revoking the de-
cree of banishment against the Bourbons, adjourned the discussion for three
clays, to allow men's minds time to become calm and to weigh more maturely
the question whether Egalite could be banished, and whether the two minis-
ters of the interior and of war could be superseded without danger.
It is easy to conceive the tumult that prevailed in die sections, at the com-
mune, and at the Jacobins, after this discussion. On all sides the ostracism
was called for, and petitions were prepared, praying for the resumption of
the discussion. The three days having elapsed, the discussion was resumed.
The mayor came at the head of the sections to apply for the report of the
decree. The Assembly passed to the order of the day, after the reading of
the address ; but Petion, seeing what a tumult this question excited, proposed
its adjournment till after the trial of Louis XVI. This sort of compromise
was adopted, and then the victim against whom all passions were whetted
was anew assailed. The celebrated trial was therefore immediately resumed.
The time granted to Louis XVI. for preparing his defence was scarcely
sufficient for the examination of the immense mass of materials upon which
it was to be founded. His two defenders demanded permission to associate
with themselves a third, younger and more active, to draw up and to deliver
the defence, while they would seek and prepare matter for it. This young
adjunct was Deseze,* the advocate, who had defended Bezenval after the 11th
of July. The Convention, having granted the defence, did not refuse an ad-
ditional counsel, and Deseze, like Malesherbes and Tronchet, had free access
to the Temple. The papers were carried thither every day by a commission,
and shown to Louis XVI., who received them with great coolness, "just as
if the proceedings concerned some other person," said a report of the com-
mune. He showed the greatest politeness to the commissioners, and had
refreshments brought for them when the sittings lasted longer than usual.
While he was thus engaged with his trial, he had devised a method of cor-
responding with his family. The papers and pens furnished for the purpose
of his defence enabled him to write to it, and the princesses pricked their
answer upon the paper with a pin. Sometimes these notes were doubled
up in balls of thread, which an attendant belonging to the kitchen threw
under the table when he brought in the dishes; sometimes they were let
down by a string from one story to the other. The unhappy prisoners thus
acquainted each other with the state of their health, and it was a great con-
solation to them to know that they were all well.
At length, M. Deseze, labouring night and day, completed his defence.
The King insisted on retrenching from it all that was too rhetorical, and on
confining it to the mere discussion of the points which it was essential to
urge.t On the 26Ui, at half-past nine in the morning, the whole armed force
• " Raymond Deseze was of an ancient family. His father was a celebrated parliamentary
advocate at Bordeaux, in which town Raymond was born in 1750. He displayed ui.
mon talents in the legal profession, and was intrusted with tl»c defence of Louis XVI. which
was considered a masterpiece. He survived the Reign of Terror, and refused all office under
Napoleon. On the. return of the Bourbons, he was appointed first president of the court of
cassation, and grand treasurer of the royal order. He was afterwards made a peer of France.
Deseze died at Paris in 1928." — Encyclopx/lie Americana. E.
j- " When the pathetic peroration of M. Deseze was read to the King, the evening befow
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 55
was in motion to conduct him from the Temple to the Feuillans, with the
same precautions and in the same order as had been observed on the former
occasion. Riding in the carriage of the mayor, he conversed on the way
with the same composure as usual; talked of Seneca, of Livy, of the hos-
pitals; he even addressed a very neat joke to one of the municipal officers
who sat in his carriage with his hat on.* Arrived at the Feuillans, he show-
ed irreai anxiety for his defenders; he seated himself beside them in the As-
sembly, surveyed with great composure the benches where his accusers and
hi* judges sat, seemed to examine their (aces with the view of discovering
the impression produced by the pleading of M. Deseze, and more than once
\crsed smiling with Tronchet and Malesherbes. The Assembly re-
ceived his defence in sullen silence and without any tokens of disapprobation.
The advocate considered in the first place the principles of law, and in the
second the facts imputed to Louis XVI. Though the Assembly, in deciding
that the King should be tried by it, had explicitly decreed that the inviola-
bility could not be invoked, M. Deseze very ably demonstrated that nothing
could limit the defence, and that it remained intact even after the decree;
that, consequently, if Louis deemed the inviolability maintainable, he had a
right to lay stress on it. He was obliged at the outset to admit the sove-
reignty of the people; and with all the defenders of the constitution of 1791,
he insisted that the sovereignty, though absolute mistress, could bind itself;
that it had chosen to do so in regard to Louis XVI. in stipulating the invio-
lability ; that it had not willed an absurd thing according to the system of the
monarchy; that, consequently* the engagement ought to be executed; and
that all possible crimes, had the king been guilty of them, could not be pun-
ished otherwise than by dethronement. He asserted that without this the
constitution of 1791 would be but a barbarous snare laid for Louis XVI.,
since a promise would have been made him with the secret intention of not per-
forming it. He then said that, if Louis was denied his rights as King, those
of citizen ought at least to be left him ; and he asked where were the conser-
vative forms which every citizen had a right to claim, such as the distinction
between the jury of accusation and that of judgment, the faculty of rejection,
the majority of the two-thirds, the secret vote, and the silence of the judges
while forming their opinions.
He added with a boldness that met with nothing but absolute silence, that
he sought everywhere for judges, and found none but accusers. He then
proceeded to the discussion of the facts, which he classed under two heads,
those which had preceded, and those which had followed, the acceptance of
the constitutional act. The former were shielded by the acceptance of that
act; the latter by the inviolability. Still, he refused not to discuss them, and
he did so with advantage, because a multitude of insignificant circumstances
had been collected, in default of precise proof of concert with foreigners, of
which people felt persuaded, but of which no positive evidence had yet been
obtained. He repelled victoriously the charge of shedding French blood on
the 10th of August. On that day. in fact, the aggressor was not Louis XVI.,
but the people. It was lawful for Louis XVI., when attacked, to strive to
it was to be delivered to the Assembly, ' I have to request of you,' he said, ' to make a pain-
ful sacrifice ; strike out of your pleading the [Hroration. It is enough forjne to appear before
such judges, and show my entire innocence; I will not move their feelings.'* — Laerettllc. E.
• '• When S.intorre took the King to his trial, he kept on his hat the whole way ; on which
his majesty joenhrly remarked, 'The last time, sir, you conveyed me to the Temple, in your
hurry yoo fiicg >t foor hat. and now, I perceive, you are determined to make up for the omis-
sion."— Ha:l tf$ Ufe of Napoleon. E.
56 HISTORY OF THE
defend himself and to take the necessary precautions. The magistrates
themselves had approved this course, and had given the troops a formal order
to repel force by force. Notwithstanding this, said M. Deseze, the King,
unwilling to avail himself of this authority, which he held both from nature
and the law, had withdrawn into the bosom of the legislative body, for the
purpose of avoiding bloodshed. With the conflict that followed he had
nothing to do. Nay, it ought to earn him thanks rather than vengeance,
since it was in compliance with an order from his hand, that the Swiss gave
up the defence of the palace, and their lives. It was, therefore, a crying in-
justice to charge Louis XVI. with having spilt French blood. On that point
he had been irreproachable. He had, on the contrary, proved himself to be
full of delicacy and humanity.
The advocate concluded with this brief and just passage ; the only one in
which the virtues of Louis XVI. were touched upon :
" Louis ascended the throne at the age of twenty, and at the age of twenty
he gave, upon the throne, an example of morality. He carried to it no cul-
pable weakness, no corrupting passion. In that station he was economical,
just, and severe, and proved himself the constant friend of the people. The
people wished for the abolition of a disastrous impost which oppressed them ;
— he abolished it. The people demanded the abolition of servitude ; — he
began by abolishing it himself in his domains. The people solicited reforms
in the criminal legislation to alleviate the condition of accused persons ; — he
made those reforms. The people desired that thousands of Frenchmen,
whom the rigour of our customs had till then deprived of the rights belong-
ing to the citizens, might either acquire or be restored to those rights ; — he
extended that benefit to them by his laws. The people wanted liberty ; and
he conferred it. He even anticipated their wishes by his sacrifices ; and yet
it is in the name of this very people that men are now demanding Citi-
zens, I shall not finish 1 pause before history. Consider that it will
judge your judgment, and that its judgment will be that of ages !"
As soon as his defender had finished, Louis XVI. delivered a few observa-
tions which he had written. " My means of defence," said he, " are now
before you. I shall not repeat them. In addressing you, perhaps for the
last time, I declare that my conscience reproaches me with nothing, and that
my defenders have told you the truth.
" I was never afraid that my conduct should be publicly examined ; but it
wounds me to the heart to find in the act of accusation the imputation that I
caused the blood of the people to be spilt, and, above all, that the calamitous
events of the 10th of August are attributed to me.
" I confess that the multiplied proofs which I have given at all times of
my love for the people, and the manner in which I have always conducted
myself, ought in my opinion to demonstrate that I was not afraid to expose
myself in order to prevent bloodshed, and to clear me for ever from such an
imputation."*
The president then asked Louis XVI. if he had anything more to say in
his defence. Louis having declared that he had not, the president informed
him that he might retire. Conducted to an adjoining room with his counsel,
* "The example of Charles I., who had proceeded to extremities with the parliament and
loet his head, prevented Louis on many occasions from making the defence which he ought
to have done against the Revolutionists. When brought to trial, he ought merely to have
said that by the law, he could do no wrong, and that his person was sacred. It would have
had no effect in saving his life, but he would have died with more dignity." — Voice from St.
Helena. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 57
he showed great anxiety about young Deseze, who appeared to be fatigued
with the long defence. In riding back, he conversed with the same serenity
with those who accompanied him, and reached the Temple at five o'clock.
No sooner had he left the hall of the Convention, than a violent tumult
arose there. Some were for opening the discussion. Others, complaining
of the evi rlasting delays which postponed the decision of this process,
demanded the vote immediately, remarking that, in every court, after the
accused had been heard, the judges proceed to give their opinion. Lanjui-
nais harboured from the commencement of the proceedings an indignation,
which Ins impetuous disposition no longer suffered him to repress.* He
darted to the tribune, and, amidst the cries excited by his presence, he de-
manded not the postponement of the discussion, but the annulling of the pro-
ceedings altogether. He exclaimed that the days of ferocious men were gone
by, that the Assembly ought not to be so dishonoured as to be made to sit in
judgment on Louis XVI., that no authority in France had that right, and the
Assembly in particular had no claim to it ; that if it resolved to act as a poli-
tical body, it could do no more than take measures of safety against the
ci-devant King; but that if it was acting as a court of justice it was over-
stepping all principles, for it was subjecting the vanquished to be tried by
the very conqueror : since most of the present members had declared them-
selves the conspirators of the 10th of August. At the word conspirators, a
tremendous uproar arose on all sides. Cries of Order! To the Abbaye!
Down with the Tribune! were heard. Lanjuinais strove in vain to justify
the word conspirators, saying that he meant it to be taken in a favourable
sense, and that the 10th of August was a glorious conspiracy. He proceeded
amidst noise, and concluded with declaring that he would rather die a thou-
sand deaths than condemn, contrary to all laws, even the most execrable
of tyrants.
A great number of speakers followed, and the confusion kept continually
increasing. The members, determined not to hear any more, mingled
together, formed groups, abused, and threatened, one another. After a tem-
pest of an hour's duration, tranquillity was at last restored, and the Assembly,
adopting the opinion of those who demanded the discussion on the trial of
Louis XVI., declared that the discussion was opened, and that it should be
continued to the exclusion of all other business, till sentence should be
passed.
The discussion was, therefore, resumed on the 27th. The numerous
speakers who had already been heard again appeared at the tribune. Among
these was St. Just. The presence of Louis XVI., humbled, vanquished,
and still serene in misfortune, had caused some objections to arise in his
mind. But he answered these objections by calling Louis a modest and
supple tyrant, who had oppressed with modesty, who defended himself with
modesty, and against whose insinuating mildness it was necessary to be
guarded with the greatest care. He convoked the States-general, but it was
• " J. D. Lanjuinais, an advocate and professor of civil law, was one of the original founders
of the Breton club, which afterwards becatne the Jacobin society. In 1792 he was deputed
to the Convention ; but, in proportion to the increasing horrors of the Revolution, he became
more moderate in his principles. On the King's trial, he declared that his majesty was
guilty, and voted for his imprisonment, and his exile when a peace should take place. In
1794 the Convention outlawed him, but, having evaded all research, he solicited to be rein-
stated in the legislative body, and was recalled in 1795. In the year 1800, Lanjuinais
became a member of the conservative senate, and showed himself, on several occasions, the
inflexible defender of the true principles of morality and justice." — Biographic Modarnc. E
VOL. II. — 8
58 HISTORY OF THE
with a view to humble the nobility and to reign by causing division. Ac-
cordingly, when he saw the power of the States rising so rapidly, he strove
to destroy it. On the 14th of July, and on the 5th and 6th of October, he
was seen secretly amassing means for crushing the people ; but every time
that his plots were thwarted by the national energy, he pretended to change
his conduct, and manifested a hypocritical joy— a joy that was not natural, at
his own defeat and the victory of the people. Subsequently, having it no
longer in his power to employ force, he plotted with foreigners, and placed
his ministers in the most embarrassing situation, so that one of them wrote
to him, " Your secret relations prevent me from executing the laws, and I
shall resign." In short, he had employed all the means of the deepest per-
fidy till the 10th of August ; and now he still put on a feigned mildness, to
warp his judges, and to escape from their hands.
It was in this light that the very natural indecision of Louis XVI. appeared
to a violent mind, which discovered a wilful and premeditated perfidy where
there was nothing but weakness and regret of the past. Other speakers fol-
lowed St. Just, and considerable impatience was felt that the Girondins
should express their sentiments. They ha.d not yet spoken, and it was high
time for them to explain themselves. We have already seen how undecided
they were, how disposed to be moved, and how prone to excuse in Louis
XVI. a resistance, which they were more capable of comprehending than
their adversaries. Vergniaud admitted, with a few friends, how deeply his
feelings were affected.* The others, without being so sensibly touched,
perhaps, were all disposed to interest themselves in behalf of the victim ; and
in this situation they devised an expedient which evinces their sympathy and
the embarrassment of their position. That expedient was an appeal to the
people. To rid themselves of a dangerous responsibility, and to throw upon
the nation the charge of barbarity if the King should be condemned, or that
of royalism if he should be acquitted, was the aim of the Girondins; and
this was an act of weakness. Since they were touched by the sight of the
deep distress of Louis XVI., they ought to have had the courage to defend
him themselves, and not kindle civil war by referring to the forty-four thou-
sand sections into which France was divided, a question that was likely to
array all the parties against one another, and to rouse the most furious pas-
sions. They ought to have seized the authority with a strong hand, and to
have had the courage to employ it themselves, without shifting from their
own shoulders to those of the multitude an affair of which it was incapable,
and which would have exposed the country to frightful confusion.t Here
• " It is known that, throughout the King's trial, the deputy Vergniaud seemed in despair,
and passed the whole night immediately after the monarch's condemnation in tears ; and it
is probable that the same night was as dreadful to all his colleagues, if we except a small
number, who, in their absurd ferocity, declared in the National Assembly that I.ouis XVI.
deserved death for the single crime of being a king, and condemned him merely because they
wished to destroy royalty." — Bertrand de Mollerillc. E. /
| "The Girondins, said Napoleon, condemned the King to death, and yet the majority of
them had voted for the appeal to the people, which was intended to save him. This form*
the inexplicable part of their conduct. Had they wished to preserve his life, they had the
power to do so ; nothing more would have been necessary than to adjourn the sentence, or
condemn him to exile or transportation. But to condemn him to death, and at the same time
endeavour to make his fate depend on a popular vote, was the height of imprudence and
absurdity ; it was, after having destroyed the monarchy, to endeavour to tear France in
pieces by a civil war. It was this false combination which ruined them. Vergniaud, their
main pillar, was the very man who proclaimed, as president, the death of Louis; and he did
this at the moment when the force of their party was such in the Assembly, that it required
N FRENCH REVOLUTION. 59
the Girondins gave their adversaries an immense advantage, by authorizing
them to assert that they were fomenting civil war, and giving them reason
to suspect their courage and their sincerity. Hence some did not fail to say
at the club of the Jacobins, that those who wished to acquit Louis XVI. were
more sincere ami more estimable than those who were for appealing to the
people. Hut such is the usual conduct of moderate parties. Behaving on
this occasion as on the 2d and 3d of September, the Girondins hesitated to
compromise themselves for a king whom they considered as an enemy, and
who, they were persuaded, had meant to destroy them by the sword of
foreigners ; yet, moved at the sight of this vanquished enemy, they strove to
defend him, they were indignant at the violence committed in regard to him,
and they did enough to ruin themselves without doing sufficient to save him. i|
Salles,* who, of all the members of the Assembly, lent himself most
readily to the fancies of Louvet, and who even surpassed him in the sup-
position of imaginary plots, first proposed and supported the system of
appeal to the people in the sitting of the 27lh. Giving up the conduct of
Louis XVI. to all the censure of the republicans, and admitting that it
deserved all the severity that it was possible to exercise, he insisted neverthe-
less that it was not an act of vengeance, but a great political act that it was
incumbent on the Assembly to perform. He maintained, therefore, that it
was with reference to the public interest that the question ought to be
decided. Now, in both cases, of acquittal or of condemnation, he perceived
prodigious inconveniences. Acquittal would be an everlasting cause of dis-
cord, and the King would become the rallying-point of all the parties. The
Assembly would be continually reminded of his attempts by way of reproach
for its indulgence : this impunity would be a public scandal, which might
perhaps occasion popular commotions and furnish a pretext to all the agi-
tators. The atrocious wretches who had already convulsed the state by
their crimes would not fail to avail themselves of this impunity to perpetrate
fresh horrors, as they had availed themselves of the listlessness of the tribu-
nals to commit the massacres of September. In short, the Convention
would be accused on all sides of not having had the courage to put an end
to so many agitations, and to found the republic by an energetic and terrible
example.
If condemned, the King would bequeath to his family all the pretensions
of his race, and bequeath them to brothers more dangerous, because they
were in less disrepute for weakness. The people, seeing no longer the
crimes but the punishment, would perhaps begin to pity the fate of the King,
and the factions would find in this disposition another medium of exaspe-
several months' labour, and more than one popular insurrection, to overturn it. That party
might have ruled the Convention, destroyed the Mountain, and governed France, if they had
at once pursued a manly, straightforward conduct. It was the refinements of metaphysicians
which occasioned their fall." — Las Cases. E.
• "J. B. Salles, a physician at Vezelise, was a man of an enlightened mind and acute
penetration, and showed himself a warm partizan of the Revolution. After the overthrow
of monarchy on the 10th of August, he was appointed deputy to the National Convention,
and became one of the founders of the Republic. In this Assembly he voted for the confine-
ment of Louis XVI., and bis banishment, on the conclusion of peace. In 1793, he boldly
denounced Marat as exciting the people to murder and pillage, and as having solicited them,
especially in his journal, to hang monopolizers at the doors of their magazines. Being out-
lawed by the Jacobin faction, Salles wandered for a long time from asylum to asylum, and
from cavern to cavern, but was at length seized at the house of Guadet's father, tried at
Bordeaux, and executed in 1791. Salles was thirty-four years of age." — Blo^ravhie Mo-
derne. E. *
60 HISTORY OF THE
rating them against the National Convention. The sovereigns of Europe
would keep a dead silence, awaiting an event, which must, they would hope,
awaken general indignation; but the moment the head of the King should
have fallen, that moment all of them, profiting by this pretext, would rush
at once upon France to tear her in pieces. Then, perhaps, France, blinded
by her sufferings, would reproach the Convention for an act which had
brought upon her a cruel and disastrous war.
" Such," said Salles, •« is the dire alternative offered to the National Con-
vention. In such a situation, it is for the nation itself to decide and to fix its
own fate in fixing that of Louis XVI. The danger of civil war is chimeri-
cal ; for civil war did not break out when the primary assemblies were con-
voked for the purpose of appointing a convention, which was to decide upon
the fate of France*, and as little apprehension of it appears to be entertained
on an occasion quite as momentous, since to these same primary assemblies
is referred the sanction of the constitution. It is idle to oppose the delays
and difficulties of a new deliberation in forty-four thousand assemblies ; for
the point is not to deliberate, but to choose without discussion between two
courses proposed by the Convention. Let the question be thus propounded
to the primary assemblies : " Shall Louis XVI. be punished with death, or
detained till the peace ? — and let them answer in these words ; Detained or
Put to death. With extraordinary couriers, the answers may arrive in a
fortnight from the remotest extremities of France."
Very different were the feelings with which this opinion was listened to.
Serres, deputy of the Hautes Alpes, retracted his first opinion, which was in
favour of judgment, and demanded the appeal to the people. Barbaroux
combatted the justification of Louis XVI. without adopting any conclusions,
for he durst not acquit contrary to the opinion of his constituents, nor con-
demn against thatof his friends. Buzot declared for the appeal to the people,
but he modified the proposition of Salles, desiring that the Convention should
itself take the initiative by voting for death, and requiring of the primary
assemblies the mere sanction of that sentence. Rabaut St. Etienne,* the
Protestant minister, who had already distinguished himself by his talents in
the Constituent Assembly, was indignant at the accumulation of powers
arrogated to itself by the Convention. " For my part," said he, " I am
weary of my portion of despotism. I am fatigued, harassed, tormented,
with the tyranny which I exercise for my share, and I long for the moment
when you shall have created a tribunal that shall divest me of the forms
and the look of a tyrant. You seek reasons of policy. Those reasons
are in history. Those people of London, who had so strongly urged the
execution of the King, were the first to curse his judges, and to fall pros-
• "J. P. Rabaut St. Etienne, a lawyer, a man of letters, and a minister of the reformed
religion, was an ardent convert of the Revolution, and a sworn enemy to the Catholic clergy.
He was one of those whose sectarian spirit added greatly to the Revolutionary enthusiasm.
When, however, he had only monarchy to contend against, he became more moderate. On
the occasion of the King's trial, he forcibly combated the opinion of those who desired that
the Convention should itself try Lous. At the time of the nominal appeal concerning the
punishment to be inflicted on the King, St. Etienne voted for his confinement, and his
banishment in the event of a peace, as well as for the appeal to the people to confirm the
sentence. In 1793, he was president of the National Convention ; but, opposing the Ter-
rorist party, a decree of outlawry was passed against him, and he was executed at Paris, hav-
ing been delivered up by -an old friend, of whom he went to beg an asylum. Rabaut St.
Etienne was fifty years of age, and a native of Nintes. He was the author of Letters on the
Primitive History of Greece,' and of an ' Historic Summary of the French Revolution.' He
also assisted in editing the ' Moniteur.' " — Biographic Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 61
Urate before his successor. When Charles II. ascended ihe throne, the
City gave him a magnificent entertainment, the people indulged in the most
lllimiill rejoicings, and ran to witness the execution of those same judges
whom Charles sacrificed to the manes of his father. People of Paris, parlia-
ment of France, have ye heard me ?"
Faure moved for copies of all Uie decrees issued relative to the trial. At
lengUi, the gloomy Robespierre again came forward, full of wrath and bitter-
ness. He, too, he said, had been touched, and had felt republican virtue
waver in his heart, at the sight of the culprit, humbled before the sovereign
power. But the last proof of devotcdness due to the country was to stille
every movement of sensibility. He then repeated all that he had said on the
competence of the Convention, on the everlasting delays thrown in the way
of the national vengeance, on the indulgence shown to the tyrant, while the
warmest friends of liberty were attacked without any kind of reserve. He
declared that this appeal to the people was but a resource similar to that de-
vised by Guadet, when he moved for the purificatory scrutiny, that this per-
fidious resource was designed to unsetde everything — the actual deputation,
and the 10th of August, and the republic itself. ConstanUy reverting to
himself and his enemies, he compared their existing situation with that of
July, 1791, when it was proposed to try Louis XVI. on accountof his flight
to Varennes. On that occasion, Robespierre had acted an important part.
He recounted his dangers as well as the successful efforts 6f his adversaries
to replace Louis XVI. on the throne, the fusilade of the Champ de Mars
which had followed, and the perils in which Louis XVI., when replaced on
the throne, had involved the public weal. He perfidiously ranked his ad-
versaries of that day with those of former times, and represented himself and
France as being in one and the same danger, and still from the intrigues of
those scoundrels who called themselves exclusively the honest men. " Now,"
added Robespierre, •« they have nothing to say upon the most important in-
terests of the country ; they abstain from pronouncing their opinion concern-
ing the last King; but their underhand and baneful activity produces all the
disturbances which agitate the country ; and in order to mislead the sound,
but frequently mistaken, majority, they persecute the most ardent patriots
under the designation of the factious minority. The minority," he exclaim-
ed, " has often changed into a majority, by enlightening the deluded assem-
blies. Virtue was always in a minority upon earth ! But for this the earth
would be peopled by tyrants and slaves. Hampden and Sidney were in the
minority, for they expired on a scaffold.* A Critias, an Anitus, a Caesar, a
Clodius, were in the majority ; but Socrates was in the minority — for he
swallowed hemlock: Cato was in the minority — for he plunged his sword
into his bowels." Robespierre then recommended quietness to the people,
in order to take away every pretext from their adversaries, who represented
the mere applause bestowed on its faithful deputies as rebellion. " People!"
cried he, " restrain your plaudits. Shun the theatre of our debates. Out of
your sight we shall not fight the less stoudy." He concluded by demanding
that Louis XVI. should be immediately declared gudty, and condemned to
death.
There was a constant succession of speakers from the 28th to the 31st.
Vergniaud at length ascended the tribune for the first time, and an extraordi-
nary eagerness was manifested to hear the Girondins express their sentiments
* " It is scarcely necessary to point out this palpable historical blunder, as every English
reader knows that Hampden fell in battle with Prince Rupert, at Chalgravc in Oxfordshire. E.
F
62 HISTORY OF THE
by the lips of their greatest orator, and break that silence of which Robes-
pierre was not the only one to accuse them.
Vergniaud commenced by expounding the principles of the sovereignty
of the people, and distinguished the cases in which it was the duty of the
representatives to appeal to it. It would be too long, too difficult, to recur
to a great nation for all the legislative acts : but, in regard to certain acts of
extraordinary importance, the case is totally different. The constitution, for
example, has been destined beforehand to be submitted to the national sanc-
tion; but this object is not the only one that deserves an extraordinary sanc-
tion. The trial of Louis possesses such grave characteristics, either from the
accumulation of powers exercised by the Assembly, or from the inviolability
which had been constitutionally granted to the monarch; or, lastly, from the
political effect which must result from a condemnation, that it is impossible
to deny its high importance, and the necessity of submitting it to the nation
itself. After developing this system, Vergniaud, who refuted Robespierre
in particular, at length came to the political inconveniences of the appeal to the
people, and touched upon all the great questions which divided the two parties.
He first considered the disturbances which were apprehended from refer-
ring to the people the sanction of the sentence passed upon the King. He
repeated the reasons adduced by other Girondins, and maintained that, if no
fear of civil war was felt in convoking the primary assemblies for the pur-
pose of sanctioning the constitution, he did not see why such a result should
be dreaded from calling them together in order to sanction the sentence upon
the King. This reason, frequently repeated, was of little weight, for the
constitution was not the real question of the Revolution. It could but be the
detailed regulation of an institution already decreed and assented to— the re-
public. But the death of the King was a formidable question. The point
was to decide if, in proceeding by the way of death against royalty, the
Revolution would break irretrievably with the past, and advance, by ven-
geance and an inexorable energy, to the goal which it proposed to itself.
Now, if so terrible a question produced such a decided division in the Con-
vention and Paris, there would be the greatest danger in again proposing it
to the forty-four thousand sections of the French territory. Tumultuous
disputes took place at all the theatres, in all the popular societies ; and it was
requisite that the Convention should have the nerve to decide the question
itself, that it might not have to refer it to France, which would perhaps have
resolved it by arms.
Vergniaud, holding the same opinion as his friends on this subject, main-
tained that civil war was not to be apprehended. He said that, in the de-
partments, agitators had not gained the preponderance which a base weak-
ness had suffered them to usurp in Paris ; that they had certainly spread
themselves over the face of the republic, but had everywhere met with no-
thing but contempt, and that the people had furnished a signal example of obe-
dience to the law, by sparing the impure blood which (lowed in their veins.
He then refuted the fears which had been expressed respecting the re;d ma-
jority, which was said to be composed of intriguers, royalists, and aristocrats ;
and inveighed against the supercilious assertion that virtue was in a minority
upon earth. "Citizens!" he exclaimed, " Cataline was in a minority in the
Roman senate, and, had this minority prevailed, all had been over with Rome,
the senate, and liberty. In the Constituent Assembly, Maury and Cazales
were in a minority, and, had they prevailed, it had been all over with you !
Kings also are in a minority upon earth ; and in order to fetter nations they,
too, assert that virtue is in a minority. They, too, say that the majority of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 63
the people is composed of intriguers, who must be reduced to silence by
terror, if empires ;ire to be preserved from one general convulsion."
Verguiaud asked if, to form a majority suitable to the wishes of certain
00, it was right to employ banishment and death, to change France into
i desert, and thus deliver her up to the schemes of a handful of villains.
Having avenged the majority and France, he avenged himself and his
friends, whom he represented as resisting constantly, and with equal courage,
all sert* of despotisms, the despotism of the court, as well as that of the bri-
gands of September. He represented them during the commotion of the 10th
nt' August, sitting amidst the pealing of the cannon of the palace, pronounc-
ing the forfeiture of the crown before the victory of the people, while those
Jirutuses, now so eager to take the lives of prostrate tyrants, were hiding
their terrors in the bowels of the earth, and thus awaiting the issue of the
Uncertain batde which liberty was fighting with despotism.
He then hurled upon his adversaries the reproach of provoking civil war.
" Yes," said he, " those are desirous of civil war who, preaching up the
murder of all the partisans of tyranny, give that appellation to all the victims
whom their hatred would fain sacrifice ; those who call down daggers upon
the representatives of the people, and demand the dissolution of the govern-
ment and of the Convention ; those who wish that the minority may become
the ruler of the majority, that it may be able to enforce its opinions by insur-
rections, and that the Catalines may be called to reign in the senate. They
are desirous of civil war who inculcate these maxims in all the public places,
and pervert the people by stigmatizing reason as Feuillantism, justice as
pusillanimity, and sacred humanity as conspiracy.
" Civil war !" exclaimed the orator, " for having invoked the sovereignty
of the people! .... Yet, in July, 1791, ye were more modest. Ye had
no desire to paralyze it, and to reign in its stead. Ye circulated a petition
for consulting the people on the judgment to be passed upon Louis on his
return from Varennes ! Ye then wished for the sovereignty of the people,
and did not think that invoking it was capable of exciting civil war ! Was
it that then it favoured your secret views, and that now it is hostile to
them ?"
The orator then proceeded to other considerations. It had been said that
it behoved the Assembly to show sufficient greatness and courage to cause
its judgment to be carried into execution itself, without calling the opinion
of the people to its support. " Courage !" said he ; " it required courage
to attack Louis XVI. in the height of his power. Does it require as much
to send Louis, vanquished and disarmed, to execution? A Cimbrian soldier
entered the prison of Marius with the intention of murdering him. Terri-
fied at the sight of his victim, he fled without daring to strike. Had this
soldier been a member of a senate, do you suppose that he would have hesitated
to vote the death of the tyrant ? What courage do you find in the perform-
ance of an act of which a coward would be capable ?"
He then spoke of a different kind of courage, that which is to be dis-
played against foreign powers. U Since people are continually talking of a
great political act," said he, " it may not be amiss to examine the question
in that point of view. There is no doubt that the powers are waiting for*
this last pretext, to rush all together upon France. There is as litde doubtl
that we shall conquer them. The heroism of the French soldiers is a sure
guarantee of victory ; but there must be an increase of expense, of efforts
of every kind. If the war constrains us to resort to fresh issues of assig-
nats ; if it inflicts new and mortal injuries on commerce ; if it causes torrents
64 HISTORY OF THE
of blood to be sbed upon land and upon sea ; what very great services will
you have rendered to humanity ! What gratitude will the country owe you
for having performed in its name, and in contempt of its misconstrued sove-
reignty, an act of vengeance, that has become the cause or merely the pre-
text for such calamitous events ! I put out of the question," cried the
speaker, " all idea of reverses ; but will you dare boast to it of your ser-
vices ? There will not be a family but will have to deplore either a father
or a son ; the farmer will soon be in want of hands ; the manufactories will
be forsaken ; your exhausted treasury will call for new taxes ; the social
body, harassed by the attacks made upon it by armed enemies from without,
and by raging factions within, will sink into a deadly languor. Beware lest,
amid these triumphs, France be like those celebrated monuments in Egypt
which have vanquished Time ; the stranger who passes is astonished at their
magnitude; if he attempts to penetrate into them, what does he find ? Ina-
nimate dust, and the silence of the grave."
Besides these fears, there were others which presented themselves to the
mind of Vergniaud. They were suggested to him by English history and
by the conduct of Cromwell, the principal, though secret author, of the
death of Charles I. This man, continually urging the people, at first
against the King, then against the Parliament itself, at length broke in
pieces his weak instrument, and seized the supreme power. " Have you
not," added Vergniaud, M have you not heard in this place and elsewhere
men crying out, ' If bread is dear, the cause of it is in the Temple ; if
specie is scarce, if our armies are scantily supplied, the cause of it is in the
Temple ; if we are shocked every day by the sight of indigence, the cause
of it is in the Temple !'
" And yet those who hold this language well know that the dearness of
bread, the want of circulation in provisions, the maladministration in the
armies, and the indigence, the sight of which afflicts us, spring from other
causes than those in the Temple. What then are their designs I Who will
guarantee to me that these same men who are continually striving to degrade
the Convention, and who might possibly have succeeded, if the majesty of
the people, which resides in it, could depend on their perfidies ; that those
same men, who are everywhere proclaiming that a new revolution is neces-
sary ; who are causing this or that section to be declared in a state of per-
manent insurrection ; who say that when the Convention succeeded Louis
we only changed tyrants, and that we want another 10th of August; that
those same men who talked of nothing but plots, death, traitors, proscrip-
tions, who insist in the meetings of sections and in their writings that a
defender ought to be appointed for the republic, and that nothing but a
chief can save it; — who, I say, will guarantee to me that these very men
will not, after the death of Louis, cry out with greater violence than ever.
1 If bread is dear, the cause of it is in the Convention ; if money is scarce,
if our armies are scantily supplied, die cause of it is in the Convention ; if
the machine of the government can hardly keep moving, the cause of it is in
the Convention charged with the direction of it; if the calamities of war are
increased by the declarations of England and Spain, the cause of it is in the
Convention, which provoked these declarations by the hasty condemnation
of Louis !'
" Who will guarantee to me that these seditious outcries of anarchical
turbulence will not have the effect of rallying the aristocracy, eager for re-
venge, poverty, eager for change, and even pity itself, which inveterate pre-
judices will have excited for the fate of Louis ! Who will guarantee to me
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 65
that, amid this tempest, in which we shall see the murderers of the 2d
of September issuing from their lairs, there will not be presented to you,
dripping with blood, and by the titTe of liberator, that defender, that chief
who is said to be so indispensable! A chief ! Ah! if such were their
audaritv, the instant he appeared, that instant he would be pierced by a
thousand wounds ! But to what horrors would not Paris be consigned —
Paris, whose heroic courage against kings posterity will admire, while it
will be utterly incapable of conceiving her ignominious subjection to a hand-
ful of brigands, the scum of mankind, who rend her bosom by the convul-
sive movements of their ambition and their fury ! Who could dwell in a
city where terror and death would hold sway! And ye, industrious citi-
zens, whose labour is all your wealth, and for whom the means of labour
would be destroyed ; ye, who have made such great sacrifices in the Revo-
lution, and who would be deprived of the absolute necessaries of life ; ye,
whose virtues, whose ardent patriotism, and whose sincerity have rendered
your seduction so easy, what would become of you 1 What would be your
resources ? What hand would dry your tears and carry relief to your
perishing families ?
" Would you apply to those false friends, those treacherous flatterers,
who would have plunged you into the abyss ? Ah ! shun them rather !
Dread their answer ! I will tell you what it would be. You would ask
them for bread ; they would say to you, ' Go to the quarries, and dispute
with the earth the possession of the mangled flesh of the victims whom ye
have slaughtered !' Or, • Do you want blood ? here it is, take it — blood
and carcasses. We have no other food to offer you !'.... Ye shudder,
citizens ! O my country, I call upon thee in my turn to attest the efforts
that I make to save thee from this deplorable crisis !"
This extempore speech of Vergniaud produced a deep impression and
general admiration in his hearers of all classes. Robespierre was thunder-
struck by his earnest and persuasive eloquence. Vergniaud, however, had
but shaken, not convinced, the Assembly, which wavered between two par-
ties. Several members were successively heard, for and against, the appeal
to the people. Brissot, Gensonne, Petion, supported it in their turn. One
speaker at length had a decisive influence on the question. This was Bar-
rere. By his suppleness, and his cold and evasive eloquence, he was the
model and oracle of the centre. He spoke at great length on the trial, re-
viewed it in all its bearings, those of facts, of laws, and of policy, and fur-
nished all those weak minds who only wanted specious reasons for yielding,
with motives for the condemnation of the King. His arguments, weak as
they were, served as a "pretext for all those who wavered ; and from that
moment the unfortunate King was condemned. The discussion lasted till
the 7th, and nobody would listen any longer to the everlasting repetition of
the same facts and the same arguments. It was therefore declared to be
closed without opposition, but the proposal of a fresh adjournment excited a
commotion among the most violent, and ended in a decree which fixed the
14th of January for putting the questions to the vote.
That fatal day having arrived, an extraordinary concourse of spectators
surrounded the Assembly and filled the tribunes. A multitude of speakers
pressed^ forward to propose different ways of putting the questions. At
lengUi, after a long debate, the Convention comprised all the questions in the
three following :
Is Louis Capet guilty of conspiracy against the liberty of the nation, and
attempts against the general safety of the state ?
vol. ii. — 9 t 2
66 HISTORY OF THE
Shall the judgment, whatever it may be, be referred to the sanction of the
people ?
What punishment shall be inflicted upon him ?
The whole of the 14th was occupied in deciding upon the questions.
The 15th was reserved for voting. The Assembly decided, in the first
place, that each member should deliver his vote from the tribune ; that he
should write and sign it, and, if he pleased, assign his motive for it ; that
members absent without cause should be censured, but that such as should
come in afterwards, might give their votes even after the general votimr was
over. At length the fatal voting on the first question commenced. Eight
members were absent on account of illness, twenty upon commissions from
the Assembly. Thirty-seven, assigning various motives for their votes,
acknowledged Louis XVI. to be guilty, but declared themselves incom pel "in
to pronounce sentence, and merely proposed measures of gcnoMi sat'etv
against him. Lastly, six hundred and eighty-three members declared Louis
XVI. guilty without explanation. The Assembly consisted of seven hun-
dred and forty-nine members.
The president in the name of the National Convention declared Louis
Capet guilty of conspiracy against the liberty of the nation, and attempts
against the general welfare of the'state.
The voting commenced on the second question, that of the appeal to the
people. Twenty-nine members were absent. Four, Lafon, Waudelain-
court, Morisson, and Lacroix, refused to vote. Noel also declined. Eleven
gave their opinion with different conditions. Two hundred and eighty-one
voted for the appeal to the people. Four hundred and twenty-three n
it. The president declared, in the name of the National Convention, that
the judgment on Louis Capet should not be submitted to the ratification of
the people*
The whole of the 15th was taken up by these two series of votes. The
third was postponed till the sitting of the following day.
The nearer the moment approached, the greater became the agitation in
Paris. At the theatres voices favourable to Louis XVI. had been raised on
occasion of the performance of the play entitled UJimi des Lois.* The
commune had ordered all the playhouses to be shut up ; but the executive
council had revoked that measure, as a violation of the liberty of the press,
in which was comprehended the liberty of the theatre. Deep consternation
pervaded the prisons. A report was circulated that the atrocities of Septem-
ber were to be repeated there, and the prisoners and their relatives beset the
deputies with supplications that they would snatch them from destruction.
The Jacobins, on their part, alleged that conspiracies were hatching in all
earners to save Louis XVI. from punishment, and to restore royalty. Their
anger, excited by delays and obstacles, assumed a more threatening aspect;
and the two parties thus alarmed one another, by supposing that each har-
boured sinister designs.
The sitting of the 16th drew together a still greater concourse than any
that had preceded. It was the decisive sitting, for the declaration of culpa-
bility would be nothing if Louis XVI. should be condemned to mere banish-
• " At the representation of the comedy called ' L'Ami de« Lois' at the Francais, every
allusion to the King's trial was caught and received with unbounded applause. At the Vau-
deville, on one of the characters in ' La Chaste Sus&nne' saying to the two elders, ' You can-
not be accusers aud judges at the same time,' the audience obliged the actor to repeat the
passage several times." — Clery. E.
t
FRENCH REVOLUTION*.
C7
ment, and the object of those who desired to save him would be accom-
plished, since all that they could expect at the moment was, to save him
from the scaffold. The tribunes had been early occupied by the Jacobins,
and their eyes were fixed on the bureau at which every member was to ap-
pear to deliver his vote. Great part of the day was taken up by measures
of public order, in sending for the ministers, in hearing them, in obtaining
an explanation from the mayor relative to the closing of the barriers, which
were said to have been shut during the day. The Convention decreed that
they should remain open, and that the federalists at Paris should share
with the Parisians the duty of the city, and of all the public establishments.
As the day was advanced, it was decided that the sitting should be per-
manent till the voting was over. At the moment when it was about to com-
mence, it was proposed that the Assembly should fix the number of votes
by which sentence should be passed. Lehardy proposed two-thirds, as in
the criminal courts. Danton, who had just arrived from Belgium, strongly
opposed this motion, and required a bare majority, that is to say, one more
than half. Lanjuinais exposed himself to fresh storms by insisting that
after so many violations of the forms of justice, they should at least observe
that which demands two-thirds of the votes. "We vote," he exclaimed,
" under the daggers and the cannon of the factions." At these words new
outcries burst forth, and the Convention put an end to the debate by declar-
ing that the form of its decrees was unique, and that according to this form
they were all passed by a bare majority.
The voting began at half-past seven in the evening, and lasted all night.
Some voted merely death ;* others declared themselves in favour of deten-
tion and banishment on the restoration of peace ; whilst others again pro-
nounced death, but with this restriction, that they should inquire whether it
was not expedient to stay the execution. Mailhet was the author of this
restriction, which was designed to save Louis XVI., for in this case time
was every thing, and delay an acquittal. A considerable number of deputies
expressed themselves in favour of this course. The voting continued amidst
tumult. At this moment the interest which Louis XVI. had excited was at
its height; and many members had arrived with the intention of voting in
his favour; but, on the other hand also, the rancour of his enemies had
increased, and the people had been brought to identify the cause of the
republic with the death of the last King, and to consider the republic as
condemned and royalty as restored, if Louis XVI. were saved.
Alarmed at the fury excited by this notion, many members were in dread
of civil war, and though deeply moved by the fate of Louis XVI., they were
afraid of the consequences of an acquittal. This fear was greatly aug-
mented at sight of the Assembly, and the scene that was passing there. As
each deputy ascended the steps of the bureau, silence was observed in order
that he might be heard ; but after he had given his vote, tokens of approbation
or disapprobation immediately burst forth, and accompanied his return to his
* " Many great and good men mournfully inclined to the severer side, from an opinion of
its absolute necessity to annihilate a dangerous enemy, and establish an unsettled republic.
Among these must be reckoned Camot, who, when called on for his opinion, gave it in these
words ; ' Death, and never did word weigh so heavily on my heart !' " — Alison. E.
j- ' Jean Mailhe was a lawyer and attorney syndic of Upper Garonne, whence he was de-
puted to the legislature. At this time of the King's trial he voted for death, but moved an
amendment to the effect that execution should be delayed. Having escaped tbe proscrip-
tions of the Reign of Terror, he was, in 1800, appointed by the consuls secretary-general to
the prefecture of the Upper Pyrenees." — Biographic Moderne. E.
68 HISTORY OF THE
seat. The tribunes received with murmurs all votes that were not for death :
and they frequently addressed threatening gestures to the Assembly itself.
The deputies replied to them from the interior of the hall, and hence resulted
a tumultuous exchange of menaces and abusive epithets. This fearfully
ominous scene had shaken all minds, and changed many resolutions. Le-
cointe, of Versailles, whose courage was undoubted, and who had not ceased
to respond to the gesticulation of the tribunes, advanced to the bureau, hesi-
tated, and at length dropped from his lips the unexpected and terrible word :
Death. Vergniaud, who had appeared deeply affected by the fate of Louis
XVI., and who had declared to his friends that he never could condemn that,
unfortunate prince, — Vergniaud, on beholding this tumultuous scene, im-
agined that he saw civil war kindled in France, and pronounced sentence of
death, with the addition, however, of Mailhe's amendment. On being ques-
tioned respecting his change of opinion, he replied that he thought he beheld
civil war on the point of breaking out, and that he durst not balance the life
of an individual against the welfare of France.
Almost all the Girondins adopted Mailhe's amendment. A deputy whose
vote excited a strong sensation, was the Duke of Orleans. Reduced to the
necessity of rendering himself endurable to the Jacobins or perishing, lie
pronounced the death of his kinsman, and returned to his place, amidst die
agitation caused by his vote.* This melancholy sitting lasted the whole
night of the 16th and the whole day of the 17th till seven in the evening.
The summing up of the votes was awaited with extraordinary impatience.
The avenues were thronged with an immense crowd, each inquiring of his
neighbour the result of the scrutiny. In the Assembly itself, all was yet
uncertainty; for it seemed as though the words Imprisonment or Banish-
ment, had been as frequently pronounced as Death. According to some
there was one vote deficient for condemnation. According to others there
was a majority, but only by a single voice. On all sides it was asserted that
one vote more would decide the question ; and people looked around with
anxiety to see if any other deputy was coming. At this moment a man came
forward, who could scarcely walk, and whose head, wrapped up, indicated
illness. This man, named Duchastel, deputy of the Deux Sevres, had left
his bed, to which he had been confined, in order to give his vote. At this
sight tumultuous shouts arose. It was alleged that the intriguers had hunted
him out for the purpose of saving Louis XVI. Some wanted to question
him, but the Assembly refused to allow this, and authorized him to vote, by
virtue of the decision which admitted of the vote after the calling of the
names. Duchastel ascended to the tribune with firmness, and, amidst the
general suspense, pronounced in favour of banishment.
Fresh incidents followed. The minister for foreign affairs desired permis-
sion to speak, in order to communicate a note from the Chevalier d'Ooarif,
the Spanish ambassador. He offered the neutrality of Spain, and her media-
tion with all the powers, if Louis XVI. were suffered to live. The impatient
Mountaineers pretended that this was an incident contrived for the purpose
• " The Duke of Orleans, when called on to give his vote, walked with a faltering step,
and a face paler than death itself, to the appointed place, and there read these words: 'Ex-
clusively governed by my duty, and convinced that all those who have resisted the sovereignty
of the people deserve death, my vote is for death V Important as the accession of the first
prince of the blood was to the terrorist faction, his conduct in this instance was too obviously
selfish and atrocious not to excite a general feeling of indignation; the agitation of the As-
sembly became extreme ; it seemed as if by this single vote the fate of the monarch wa*
irrevocably sealed." — History of tht Convtntinn. E.
i
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 69
of raising fresh obstacles, and moved the order of the day. Danton suggested
that war should be immediately declared against Spain. The Assembly
adopted the order of the day. A new application was then announced. The
defenders of Louis XVI. solicited admission for the purpose of making a
communication. Fresh outcries proceeded from the Mountain. Robespierre
declared that the defence was finished, that the council had no right to submit
anything further to the Convention, that the judgment was given, and only
remained to be pronounced. It was decided that the counsel should not be
admitted till after the pronouncing of judgment.
Vergniaud presided. " Citizens," said he, "I am about to proclaim the
result of the scrutiny. You will observe, I hope, profound silence. When
justice has spoken, humanity ought to have its turn."
The Assembly was composed of seven hundred and forty-nine members :
fifteen were absent on commissions, eight from illness, five had refused to
vote, which reduced the number of deputies present to seven hundred and
twenty-one, and the absolute majority to three hundred and sixty-one votes.
Two hundred and eighty-six had voted for detention or banishment with dif-
ferent conditions. Two had voted for imprisonment; forty-six for death
with reprieve either till peace, or till the ratification of the constitution.
Twenty-six had voted for death, but with Mailhe, they had desired that the
Assembly should consider whether it might not be expedient to stay the
execution. Their vote was nevertheless independent of the latter clafrse.
Three hundred and sixty-one had voted for death unconditionally. •>
The president then, in a sorrowful tone, declared in the name of the Con-
vention that, the punishment pronounced against Louis Capet is — Death!*
At this moment the defenders of Louis XVI. were introduced at the bar.
M. Deseze addressed the Assembly and said that he was sent by his client
to put in an appeal to the people from the sentence passed by the Conven-
tion. He founded this appeal on the small number of votes which had
decided the condemnation, and maintained that, since such doubts had arisen
in the minds of the deputies, it was expedient to refer the matter to the nation
itself. Tronchet added that, as the penal code had been followed in respect
to the severity of the punishment, they were bound to follow it also in
respect to the humanity of the forms ; and that the form which required two-
thirds of the voices, ought not to have been neglected. The venerable
Malesherbes spoke in his turn. With a voice interrupted by sobs, "Citi-
zens," said he, " I am not in the habit of public speaking. ... I see with
pain that I am refused time to muster my ideas on the manner of counting
the votes. . . I have formerly reflected much on this subject ; I have many
observations to communicate to you . . . but . . . Citizens . . . forgive my
agitation . . . grant me time till to-morrow to arrange my ideas."
• " When M. de Malesherbes went to the Temple to announce the result of the vote, he
found Louis with his forehead resting on his hands, and absorbed in a deep revery. Without
inquiring concerning his fute, he said, ' For two hours I have been considering whether, dur-
ing my whole reign, I have voluntarily given any cause of complaint to my subjects ; and
with perfect sincerity I declare that I deserve no reproach ut their hands, and that I have
formed a wish but for their happiness.' " — Lacretelle. E.
" Louis was fully prepared for his fate. During the calling of the votes he asked M. dc
Malesherbes, ' Have you not met, near the Temple, the White Lady V — ' What do you
mean V replied he. ' Do you not know,' resumed the King, with a smile, • that when a
prince of our house is about to die, a female, dressed in white, is seen wandering about the
palace ? My friends,' added he to his defenders, • I am about to depart before you for the
band of the just, but there, at least, we shall be reunited.' In (act, his majesty's only appre-
hension seemed to be for his family." — Alison. E.
70 HISTORY OF THE
The Assembly was moved at the sight of the tears and the gray hair of
the venerable old man. " Citizens," said Vergniaud to the three counsel,
" the Convention has listened to the remonstrances, which it was a sacred
duty incumbent on you to make — Will you," added he, addressing the As-
sembly, " decree the honours of the sitting to the defenders of Louis XVI. ?"
— " Yes, yes," was the unanimous reply.
Robespierre then spoke, and, referring to the decree passed against an
appeal to the people, combated the application of the counsel. Guadet pro-
posed that, without admitting of the appeal to the people, twenty-four hours
should be allowed to Malesherbes. Merlin of Douai* maintained that nothing
whatever could be urged against the manner of counting the votes ; for, if
the penal code, which was invoked, required two-thirds of the voices for the
declaration of the fact, it required only a bare majority for the application of
the punishment. Now, in the present case, the culpability had been de-
clared by an almost general unanimity of voices ; and therefore it mattered
not if only a bare majority had been obtained for the punishment.
After these different observations, the Convention passed to the order of
the day upon the demands of the counsel, declared the appeal of Louis to be
null, and deferred the question of reprieve to the following day. Next day,
the 18th, it was alleged that the enumeration of the votes was not correct,
and that it should be taken anew. The whole day was passed in dispu-
tidpn. At length the calculation was ascertained to be correct ; and the
Assembly was obliged to postpone the question of reprieve till the following
day.
At length, on the 19th, this last question was discussed. It was placing
the whole of the proceedings in jeopardy, for to Louis XVI. delay was life
itself. Thus after exhausting all their arguments, in discussing the punish-
ment and the appeal, the Girondins and those who wished to save Louis
XVI. knew not what further means to employ. They still talked of politi-
cal reasons, but were told in reply, that, if Louis XVI. were dead, people
would arm to avenge him : that, if he were alive and detained, they would
arm in like manner to deliver him, and that consequently, in either case,
the result would be the same. Barrere asserted that it was unworthy of the
Assembly thus to parade a head through foreign courts, and to stipulate the
life or death of a condemned person as an article of a treaty. He added that
this would be a cruelty to Louis XVI. himself, who would suffer death at
every movement of the armies. The Assembly, immediately closing the
discussion, decided that each member should vote by Yes or No, without
stirring from the spot. On the 20th of January, at three in themornimr, the
voting terminated, and the president declared, by a majority of three hun-
dred and eighty voices to three hundred and ten, that the execution of Louis
Capet should take place without delay .t
• " Merlin always pursued a revolutionary career, and never departed from his principles,
never accepted a commission to pillage or slay in the departments, and devoted to the Catigof
of incessant labour, never manifested undue ambition. He wanted perhaps the courage and
firmness necessary to a true statesman, but he had some qualities which are desirable in a
minister; more remarkable for address than vigour, he succeeded in all he attempted, by
patience, attention, and that persevering spirit which is not character, but which frequently
supplies its place." — ('uriml's Memoirs. I).
I " The sitting of the Convention which concluded the trial lasted seventy-two hours.
It might naturally be supposed that silence, restraint, a sort of religious awe would have per-
vaded the scene. On the contrary, everything bore the marks of gaiety, dissipation, and the
most grotesque confusion. The farther end of the hall was converted into boxes, where
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 7 1
At this moment a letter arrived from Kersaint,* in which that deputy
resigned his seat. He could no longer, he wrote to the Assembly, endure
the disgrace of sitting in the same place with bloodthirsty men, when tlu-ir
sentiments, preceded by terror, prevailed over those of upright minds ; when
Marat prevailed over Petion. This letter caused an extraordinary agitation.
Gensonne" spoke, and took this opportunity to avenge himself on the Sep-
tembrisers, for the decree of death which had just been issued. It was
doing nothing, he said, to punish misdeeds of tyranny, if they did not punish
other misdeeds that were still more mischievous. They had performed but
half their task, if they did not punish the crimes of September, and if they
did not direct proceedings to be instituted against their authors. At this pro-
position, the greater part of the Assembly rose with acclamation. Marat and
Tallien opposed the movement. M If," cried they, " you punish the authors
of September, punish those conspirators also who were entrenched in the
palace on the 10th of August." The Assembly, complying with all these
demands, immediately ordered the minister of justice to prosecute as well
the authors of the atrocities committed in the first days of September, as the
persons found in arms in the palace during the night between the 9th and
10th of August, and the functionaries who had quitted their posts and
returned to Paris to conspire with the court.
Louis XVI. was definitively condemned. No reprieve could defer the
execution of the sentence, and all the expedients devised for postponing the
fatal moment were exhausted. All the members of the right side, whether
secret royalists or republicans, were dismayed at that cruel sentence, and at
the ascendency just acquired by the Mountain. Profound stupor pervaded
Paris. The audacity of the new government had produced the effect which
force usually produces upon the mass ; it had paralyzed and reduced to
silence the greater number, and excited the indignation of merely a few minds
of greater energy. There were still some old servants of Louis XVI., some
young gentlemen, some of the life-guards, who proposed, it was said, to fly
to the succour of the monarch, and to rescue him from death. But to meet,
to concert together, to make arrangements, amidst the profound terror of the
one party, and the active vigilance of the other, was impracticable ; and all
ladies, in a studied dishabille, swallowed ices, oranges, liqueurs, and received the salutations
of the members who went and came, as on ordinary occasions. Here, the doorkeepers on
the Mountain side opened and shut the boxes reserved for the mistresses of the Duke of
Orleans-Egalite ; and there, though every sound of approbation or disapprobation was strictly
forbidden, you heard the long and indignant ' Ha, ha's !' of the mother-duchess, the patroness
of the band of female Jacobins, whenever her ears were not loudly greeted with the welcome
sounds of death. The upper gallery, reserved for the people, was during the whole trial con-
stantly full of strangers of every description drinking wine, as in a tavern. Bets were made
as to the issue of the trial in all the neighbouring corlee-houses. Ennui, impatience, disgust,
sat on almost every countenance. The figures passing and repassing, and rendered more
gha.itly by the pallid lights, and who in a slow, sepulchral voice only pronounced the word
death ; others calculating if they should have time to go to dinner before they gave their
verdict ; women pricking cards with pins in order to count the votes ; some of the deputies
fallen asleep, and only waked up to give their sentence ; — all this had the appearance of a
hideout dream rather than of a reality." — HazlitCa Life of Napoleon. E.
• " Comte de A. G. 8. Kersaint was a captain in the royal navy, and at the period of the
Revolution attached himself to the Girondins. On the King's trial, when sentence of death
had been pronounced, in opposition to his vote for imprisonment till the peace, Kersaint sent
in his resignation as member of the Convention. In 1793 he was guillotined by the Jaco-
bin faction. He was born in Paris, was a man of good natural abilities, and of moderate
principles, and at the time of his death was fifty-two years old." — Biographic Mudcrne. E.
72 HISTORY OF THE
that could be done, was to attempt some unconnected acts of despair. The
Jacobins, delighted with their triumphs, were nevertheless astonished at it.
They recommended to one another to keep close together during the next
twenty-four hours, to send commissioners to all the authorities, to the com-
mune, to the staff of the national guard, to the department, and to the execu-
tive council, for the purpose of rousing their zeal, and insuring the execution
of the sentence. They asserted that this execution would take place — that
it was infallible ; but, from the care which they took to repeat this, it was
obvious that they themselves did not entirely believe what they said. The
execution of a king, in the bosom of a country which, but three years
before, had been by its manners, customs, and laws, an absolute; monai
appeared still doubtful, and was rendered credible only by the event.
The executive council was charged with the melancholy commission of
carrying the sentence into execution. All the ministers were assembled m
the hall where they met, and they were struck with consternation. ( 1
as minister of justice, had the most painful of all tasks imposed upon him,
that of acquainting Louis XVI. with the decrees of the Convention. lb-
repaired to the Temple, accompanied by Santerre, by a deputation of the
commune and of the criminal tribunal, and by the secretary of the executive
council. Louis XVI. had been four days expecting his defenders, and
applying in vain to see them. On the 20th of January, at two in the after-
noon, he was still awaiting them, when all at once he heard the sound of a
numerous party. He stepped forward, and perceived the envoys of the
executive council. He stopped with dignity at the door of his apartment,
apparently unmoved. Garat then told him sorrowfully that be htm com-
missioned to communicate to him the decrees of the Convention. Grouvelle,
secretary of the executive council, read them to him. The first deefcured
Louis XVI. guilty of treason against the general safety of the state ; the
second condemned him to death ; the third rejected any appeal to the
people ; and the fourth and last, ordered his execution in twenty-lour hours.
Louis looked calmly around upon all those who were about him, took the
paper from the hand of Grouville, put it in his pocket, and read Carat a
letter in which he demanded from the Convention three days to prepare for
death, a confessor to assist him in his last moments, liberty to see ids
family, and permission for them to leave France. Garat took the letter,
promising to submit it immediately to the Convention. Tiie Kiiiir gave him
at the same time the address of the ecclesiastic whose assistance he wisheJ
to have in his last moments.
Louis XVI. went back into his room with srreat composure, ordered his
dinner, and ate as usual. There were no knives on the table, and his attend-
ants refused to let him have any. " Do they think me so weak," he
claimed, "as to lay violent hands on myself.' I am innocent, and I am not
afraid to die." He was obliged to dispense with a knife. Oa finishing his
repast, he returned to his apartment, and calmly awaited the answer to his
letter.
The Convention refused the delay, but granted all the other demands
which he had made. Garat sent for Edgeworth de Firmont.t the ecclesias-
• " The sentence of death was announced by Garat. No alteration took place in the
King's countenance: I observed only at the word 'conspiracy' a smile of indignation appear
on his lips; but at the words, 'shall suffer the punishment of death,' the expression of his face
when he looked on those around him, showed that death had no terrors for him." — Clery. E.
+ " Henry Essex Edgeworth de Firmont, father-confessor of Louis XVI., was born in
Ireland in 1745, in the village of Edgcworlhstown. His father, an episcopalian clergyman,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 73
tic whom Louis XVI. had chosen, and took him in his own carriage to the
UYinple. He arrived there at six o'clock, and went to the great tower, ac-
companied by Santerre. He informed the King that the Convention
allowed him to have a minister, and to see his famdy alone, but that it re-
jected the application for delay. Garat added that M. Edgeworth had ar-
rived, that he was in the council-room, and should be introduced. He then
retired, more astonished and more touched than ever by the calm magnani-
mity of the prince.
If, Edgeworth, on being ushered into the presence of the King, would
have thrown himself at his feet, but Louis instantly raised him, and both
shed tears of emotion. He then, with eager curiosity, asked various ques-
tions concerning the clergy of France, several bishops, and particularly the
Archbishop of Paris, requesting him to assure the latter that he died faith-
fully attached to his communion. The clock having struck eight, he rose,
bogged M. Bdgewofth to wait, and retired with emotion, saying that he was
going to see his family. The municipal officers, unwilling to lose sight of
the King, even while with his family, had decided that he should see it in
the dininjj-room, which had a glass-door, through which they could watch
all his motions without hearing what he said. He walked anxiously to and
fro, awaiting the painful moment when those who were so dear to him
should appear. At half-past eight, the door opened. The Queen, holding
the dauphin by the hand, Madame Elizabeth, and Madame Royale, rushed
sobbing into the arms of Louis XVI. The door was closed, and the muni-
cipal officers, Clery, and M. Edgeworth, placed themselves behind it to
witness the agonizing interview. During the first moments, it was but a
scene of confusion and despair. Cries and lamentations prevented those
who were on the watch from distinguishing anything. At length, tears
ceased to flow, the conversation became more calm, and the princesses, still
holding the King clasped in their arms, spoke to him for some time in a low
tone. After a long conversation, interrupted by silence and grief, he rose to
put an end to this painful meeting, and promised to see them again at eight
the next morning. " Do you promise that you will ?" earnestly inquired
the princesses. " Yes, yes," sorrowfully replied the King. At this moment
the Queen held him by one arm, Madame Elizabeth by the other, while the
princess royal clasped him round the waist : and the young prince stood be-
fore him, with one hand in that of his mother, and the other in his aunt's.
At the moment of retiring, the princess royal fainted ; she was carried away,
and the King returned to M. Edgeworth deeply depressed by this painful
interview.* In a short time he rallied, and recovered all his composure.
adopted the Catholic faith with his family, and went to France. His piety and good conduct
obtained him the confidence of the Princess Elizabeth, who chose him for her confessor, and
made him known to Louis, who after his condemnation, sent for him to attend him in his
last moments. M. Edgeworth accompanied the King to the place of execution ; and, having
succeeded in escaping from France, arrived in England in 1796. Pitt offered him a pen-
sion, which be declined. He soon after followed Louis XVIII. to Blankenburg, in Bruns-
wick, and thence to Mittau. M. Edgeworth died, in 1807, of a contagious fever, caught in
attending to some sick French emigrants. The Duchess d'Angoulcme waited on him in
his last moments; the royal family followed him to the tomb ; and Louis XVIII. wrote his
epitaph." — Encyclnpadia Americana. E.
* " At eight o'clock the King came out of his closet, and desired the municipal officers to
conduct him to his family. They replied, that could not be, but his family should be brought
down if he desired it. ' He it so,' said his majesty ; and accordingly, at half-past eight, the
door opened, and his wife and children made their appearance. They all threw themselves
into the arms of the King. A melancholy silence prevailed for some minutes, only broken
vol. ii. — 10 G
74 HISTORY OF THE
M. Edgeworth then offered to say mass, which he had not heard for a
long time. After some difficulties, the commune assented to that ceremony,
and application was made to the neighbouring church for the ornaments
necessary for the following morning. The King retired to rest about mid-
night, desiring Clery to call him before five o'clock. M. Edgeworth threw
himself upon a bed ; and Clery took his place near the pillow of his master,
watching the peaceful slumber which he enjoyed the night before he was to
ascend the scaffold.
Meanwhile, a frightful scene had passed in Paris. A few ardent minds
were in a ferment here and there, while the great mass, either indifferent or
awe-struck, remained immoveable. A life-guardsman, named Paris, had
resolved to avenge the death of Louis XVI. on one of his judges. Lepelle-
tier St. Fargeaut had, like many others of his rank, voted for death, in order
to throw the veil of oblivion over his birth and fortune. He had excited the
more indignation in the royalists, on account of the class to which he be-
longed. On the evening of the 20th he was pointed out to Paris, when he
was just sitting down to table at a restaurateur's in the Palais Royal. The
young man, wrapped in a great cloak, stepped up to him, and said, "Art
thou Lepelletier, the villain who voted for the death of the King?" " Yes,"
replied the deputy, " but I am not a villain ; I voted according to my con-
science."— " There, then," rejoined the life-guardsman, " take that for thv
reward," plunging his sword into his side. Lepelletier fell, and Paris
escaped before the persons present had time to secure him
The news of this event instantly spread to all quarters. It was denounced
by sighs and sobs. The Queen made an inclination towards his majesty's chamber. ' No,'
said the King, ' we must go into this room ; I can only see you there.' They went in, and
I shut the glass-door. The King sat down ; the Queen was on his left hand ; Madame Eli-
zabeth on his right; Madame Roy ale nearly opposite ; and the young prince stood between
his legs. All were leaning on the King, and often pressed him to their arms. This scene of
sorrow lasted an hour and three-quarters, during which it was impossible to hear anything. It
could, however, be seen, that after every sentence uttered by the King, the agitation of the Queen
and princesses increased, lasted some minutes, and then the King began to speak again. It
was plain, from their gestures, that they received from himself the first intelligence of his
condemnation. At a quarter past ten the King rose first; they all followed. I opened the
door. The Queen held the King by his right arm ; their majesties gave each a hand to the
dauphin. Madame Royale, on the King's left, had her arms round his body ; and behind
her Madame Elizabeth, on the same side, had taken his arm. They advanced some steps
towards the entry door, breaking out into the most agonizing lamentations. ' I assure you,
said the King, ' that I will see you again to-morrow morning at eight o'clock.' — ' You pro-
mise,' said they all together. ' Yes, I promise.' ' Why not at seven o'clock V asked the
Queen. ■ Well — yes, at seven,' replied the King ; ' farewell !' He pronounced ' farewell*
in so impressive a manner, that their sobs were renewed, and Madame Royale fainted at the
feet of the King, round whom she had clung. His majesty, willing to put an end to this
agonizing scene, once more embraced them all most tenderly, and had the resolution to tear
himself from their arms. • Farewell ! farewell !' said he, and went into his chamber. The
Queen, princesses, and dauphin, returned to their own apartments; ami though l>oth the
doors were shut, their screams and lamentations were heard for some time on the stairs. The
King went back to hi* confessor in the turret closet" — Cleri/. E.
• " L. M. de Lepelletier St. Fargeau, president of the parliament of Paris, was deputed
by the nobility of that city to the Slates-general. He possessed an immense fortune, and
was noted before the Revolution for very loose morals, but, at the same time, for a gentk
disposition. In 1790 he declared in favour of the abolition of honorary title* and filled the
president's chair of the Assembly. In 17'.)2 he was appointed secretary to the Convention,
and on the occasion of the King's trial, voted for his death. He was assassinated four days
after at the Palais Royal, in the house of the cook Fevrier, whore he win going to dine.
He immediately expired, having barely time to pronounce these words : * I am cold !' Le-
pelletier was born in Paris in the year 17G0." — Uingraphie Modcrne. E.
J
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 75
to the Convention, the Jacobins, and the commune ; and it served to give
more consistency to the rumours of a conspiracy of the royalists lor -
tering the It it >ide, and rescuing the King at the foot of the scaffold. The
Jacobins declared their sittintr permanent, and sent fresh commissioners to
all the authorities and to all the sections, to awaken their zeal, and to induce
the entire population to rise in arms.
cl morning, the 21st of January, the clock of die Temple struck five.
The King awoke, called Clery, inquired the hour, and dressed with great
calmness. * He congratulated himself on having recovered his strength by
sleep. Clery kindled a lire, and moved a chest of drawers, out of which
he formed an altar. M. Edgeworth put on his pontifical ornaments, and
began to celebrate mass. Clery waited on him, and the King listened,
kneeling with the greatest devotion. He then received the communion
from the hands of M. Edgeworth, and, after mass, rose with new vigour, and
awaited with composure the moment for going to the scaffold. He asked
for scissors, that he might cut his hair himself, and thus escape the perform-
ance of that humiliating operation by the hand of the executioner; but the
commune refused to trust him with a pair.
At this moment the drums were beating in the capital. All those who
belonged to the armed sections repaired to their company with complete
submission. Those who were not called by any obligation to figure on that
dreadful day kept close at home. Windows and doors were shut up, and
every one awaited in his own habitation the melancholy event. It was re-
ported that four or five hundred devoted men were to make a dash upon the
carriage and rescue the King.t The Convention, the commune, the execu-
tive council, and the Jacobins, were sitting.
• " On hearing five o'clock strike, I began to light the fire. The noise I made awoke the
King, who, drawing his curtains, asked if it had struck five. I said it had by several clocks,
but ii't yet by that in the apartment Having finished with the fire, I went to his bedside.
'I have slept soundly,' said his majesty, 'and I stood in need of it; yesterday was a trying
day to me. Where is M. Edireworth •' I answered, on my bed. ' And where were you all
night !' — 'On this chair.' — 'I am sorry for it,' said the King, and gave me his hand, at the
same time tenderly pressing mine. I then dressed his majesty, who, as soon as he was
d rowed, bade me go and call M. Edgeworth, whom I found already risen, and he immediately
attended the King to the turret. Meanwhile I placed a chest of drawers in the middle of
the chambers, and arranged it in the form of an altar for saying mass. The necessary arti-
cles nt dress had been brought at two o'clock in the morning. The priest's garments I car-
ried into my chamber, and when everything was ready, I went and informed his majesty.
He had a hook in his hand, which he opened, and finding the place of the mass, gave it me ;
he then took another book for himself. The priest, meanwhile, was dressing. Before the
altar I bad placed an arm-chair for his majesty, with a large cushion on the ground ; the
cushion he desired me to lake away; and went himself to his closet for a smaller one, made
of hair, whieh he commonly used at his prayers. When the priest came in, the municipal
officers retired into the antechamber, and I shut one fold of the dour. The mass began at
six o'clock. There was profound silence during the awful ceremony. The King, all the
time on his knees, heard mass with the most devout attention, and received the communion.
After the service he withdrew to his closet, and the priest went into my chamber to put off
his official nttire." — Clery. E.
-j-" While they were conveying the King from the Temple to the place of execution, the
train was fallowed by two men in arms, who went into all the coffee-houses and public
place*, and a>ked with loud cries if there were still any loyal subjects left, who were ready to
die f>r their King! But such was the universal terror that not>ody joined them : and they
Iwrth arrived without any increase of their party, at the place of execution, where they slipped
oil' in the crowd. It is also a fact that some timid |ieople well affected to the King had
formed an aaeoctatfon of eighteen hundred parsons, who were to cry out ' Pardon !' before the
execution. But of those eighteen hundred, only one man had the courage to do his duty,
and he, it is said, was instantly torn to pieces by the populace."— l'tliier. E.
76 HISTORY OF THE
At eight in the morning, Santerre, with a deputation of the commune, the
department, and the criminal tribunal, repaired to the Temple. Louis XVI.
on hearing the noise, rose, and prepared to depart. He had declined seeing
his family again, to avoid the renewal of the painful scene of the preceding
evening. He desired Clery to transmit his last farewell to his wife, his sis-
ter, and his children ; he gave him a sealed packet, hair, and various trinkets,
with directions to deliver these articles to them.* He then clasped his hand,
and thanked him for his services. After this, he addressed himself to one
of the municipal officers, requesting him to transmit his last will to the com-
mune. This officer, who had formerly been a priest, and was named Jacques
Roux, brutally replied that his business was to conduct him to execution,
and not to perform his commissions. Another person took charge of it,
and Louis, turning towards the party, gave with firmness the signal for
starting.f
Officers of gendarmerie were placed on the front seat of the carriage. The
King and M. Edgeworth occupied the back.J During the ride, which was
* " In the course of the morning the King said to me, 'You will give this seal to my son,
and this ring to the Queen, and assure her that it is with pain I part with it. This little
packet contains the hair of all my family : you will give her that, too. Tell the Queen,
my dear sister, and my children, that, although I promised to see them again this morning,
I have resolved to spare them the pang of so cruel a separation. Tell them how much it
costs me to go away, without receiving their embraces once more !' He wiped away some
tears ; and then added in the most mournful accents, ' I charge you to bear them my last
farewell.'" — Clery. E.
" On the morning of this terrible day, the princesses rose at six o'clock. The night l>efore,
the Queen had scarcely strength enough to put her son to bed. She threw herself, dressed
as she was, upon her own bed, where she was heard shivering with cold and grief all night
long ! At a quarter past six, the door opened ; the princesses believed they were sent for to
see the King, but it was only the officers looking for a prayer-book for his mass. They did
not, however, abandon the hope of seeing him, till the shouts of joy of the unprincipled popu-
lace announced to them that all was over." — Duchess d Angoulenie. E.
■(■"All the troops in Paris had been under arms from five o'clock in the morning. The
beat of drums, the sound of trumpets, the clash of arms, the trampling of horses, the removal
of cannon which were incessantly carried from one place to another — all resounded in the
tower. At half-past eight o'clock the noise increased ; the doors were thrown open with
great clatter ; and Santerre, accompanied by seven or eight municipal officers, entered at the
head often soldiers, and drew them up in two lines. At this movement, the King came out
of his closet, and said to Santerre, ' You are come for me !' — • Yes,' was the answer. ' Wait
a moment,' said his majesty, and went into his closet, whence he instanUy returned,
followed by his confessor. I was standing behind the King, near the fire-place. He turned
round to me, and I offered him his great-coat ' I shall not want it.' said he, ' give me only
my hat. I presented it to him, and his hand met mine, which he pressed for the last time.
His majesty then looked at Santerre and said, ' Lead on.' These were the last words he
spoke in his apartments." — Clery. E.
i " On quitting the tower, the King crossed the first court, formerly the garden, on foot ;
he turned bark once or twice towards the tower, as if to bid adieu to all most dear to him
on earth ; and by his gestures it was plain that he was trying to collect all his strength and
firmness. At the entrance of the second court, a carriage waited; two gendarmes held the
door; at the King's approach, one of these men entered first, and placed himself in front;
his majesty followed and placed me by his side, at the back of the carriage ; the other gend-
arme jumped in last, and shut the door. The procession lasted almost two hours ; the
streets were lined with citizens, all armed ; and the carriage was surrounded by a body of
troops, formed of the most desperate people of Paris. As soon as the King perceived that
the carriage stopped, he turned and whispered to me, ■ We have arrived, if I mistake not'
My silence answered that we had. On quitting the vehicle, three guards surrounded his
majesty, and would have taken off his clothes, but he repulsed them with haughtiness; he
undressed himself, untied his neckcloth, opened his shirt and arranged it himself. The path
leading to the scaffold, was extremely rough and difficult to pass ; the King was obliged to
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 77
rather long, the King read in M. Edgeworth's breviary the prayers for per-
sons at thfl point of death; and the two gendarmes were confounded at hi*
piety and tranquil resignation. They had orders, it was said, to despatch
him if the otfriage should be attacked. No hostile demonstration, however,
took place from the Temple to the Place de la Revolution. An armed mul-
titude lined the way. The vehicle advanced slowly, and amidst a universal
silence. At the Place de la Revolution an extensive space had been left
vacant about the scaffold. Around this space were planted cannon ; the
most violent of the federalists were stationed about the scaffold ; and the vile
rabble, always ready to insult genius, virtue, and misfortune, when a signal
is in ven it to do so, crowded behind die ranks of the federalists, and alone
manifested some outward tokens of satisfaction ; whilst all else buried in the
recesses of their hearts the feelings which they experienced.
At ten minutes past ten, the carriage stopped. Louis XVI., rising briskly,
stepped out into the Place. Three executioners* came up ; he refused their
assistance, and stripped off his clothes himself. But, perceiving that they
were going to bind his hands, he betrayed a movement of indignation, and
seemed ready to resist. M. Edgeworth, whose every expression was then
sublime, grave him a last look, and said, "Suffer this outrage, as a last resem-
blance to that Ciod who is about to be your reward." At these words, the
victim, resigned and submissive, suffered himself to be bound and conducted
to the scaffold. All at once, Louis took a hasty step, separated himself from
the executioners, and advanced to address the people. " Frenchmen,"
said he, in a firm voice, " I die innocent of the crimes which are imputed
to me; I forgive the authors of my death, and I pray that my blood may not
fall upon France." He would have continued, but the drums were instandy
ordered to beat : their rolling drowned the voice of the prince ; die execu-
tioners laid hold of him, and M. Edgeworth took his leave in these memora-
lean on my arm, and, from the slowness with which he proceeded, I feared for a moment
that his courage might fail ; but what was my astonishment, when arrived at the last step, I
felt that he suddenly let go my arm, and I saw him cross with a firm foot the breadth of the
whole scaffold, silence, by his look alone, fifteen or twenty drums that were placed opposite
to him ; and, in a loud voice, heard him pronounce distinctly these memorable words : — ' I die
innocent of all the crimes laid to my charge ; I pardon those who have occasioned my death ; and
I pray. to God that the blood you are now going to shed may never be visited on France.' He
was proceeding, when a man on horseback, in the national uniform, waved his sword and
ordered the drums to beat. Many voices were at the same time heard encouraging the
executioners, who immediately seized the King with violence, and dragged him under
the axe of the guillotine, which with one stroke severed his head from his body." — Abbi
Edgeworth. E.
* " The executioners who officiated on this occasion were brothers, named Samson, of one
of whom Mercier thus speaks, in his Nouveau Tableau de Paris .■ — " What a man is that
Samson ! Insensible to suffering, he has always been identified with the axe of execution.
He has beheaded the most powerful monarch in Europe, his Queen, Couthon, Brissot, Robes-
pierre,— and all this with a composed countenance ! He cuts off the head that is brought to
him, no matter whose. What does he say 1 What does he think ? I should like to know
what passes in his head, and whether he considers his terrible functions only as a trade. The
more I meditate on this man, the president of the great massacre of the human species, over-
throwing crowned heads like that of the purest republican, without moving a muscle, the more
my ideas are confounded. How did he sleep, after receiving the last words, the last looks,
of all those several heads ? I really would give a trifle to be in the soul of this man for a
few hours. He sleeps, it is said, and very likely his conscience may be at |>erfect rest. The
guillotine has respected him, as making one body with itself. He is sometimes present at tha
Vaudeville. He laughs — looks at me— my head has escaped him — he knows nothing about
it; and as that is very indifferent to him, I never grow weary of contemplating in him the
indifference with which he has sent a crowd of men to the other world." E.
o2
78 HISTORY OF THE
ble words: "Son of St. Louis, ascend to Heaven !"* As soon as the blood
flowed, furious wretches dipped their pikes and their handkerchiefs in it,t
spread themselves throughout Paris, shouting Vive la Republique ! Vive la
nation ! and even went to the gates of the Temple to display that brutal and
factious joy which the rabble manifests at the birth, the accession, and the
fall of all princes.:}:
• " The Abbe Edgeworth has been asked if he recollected to have made this exclamation,
He replied, that he could neither deny nor affirm that he had spoken the words. It was pos-
sible, he added, that he might have pronounced them without afterwards recollecting the fact,
for that he retained no memory of anything that happened relative to himself at that awful
moment His not recollecting, or recording the words, is perhaps the best proof that they
were spoken from the impulse of the moment." — Memoirs of the Abbe Edgeworth. E.
t " One person actually tasted the blood, with a brutal exclamation that it was ' shocking-
ly bitter,' and the hair and pieces of the dress were sold by the attendants. No strong emo-
tion was evinced at the moment; the place was like a fair; but, a few days after, Paris, and
those who had voted for the death of the monarch, began to feel serious and uneasy at what
they had done. E.
+ " The body of Louis was, immediately after the execution, removed into the ancient ce-
metery of the Madeleine. Large quantities of quicklime were thrown into the grave, which
occasioned so rapid a decomposition, that, when his remains were sought after in 1815, it
was with great difficulty that any part could be recovered. Over the spot where he was in-
terred, Napoleon commenced the splendid Temple of Glory, after the battle of Jena ; and the
6uperb edifice was completed by the Bourbons, and now forms the church of the Madeleine,
the most beautiful of the many beautiful structures in Paris. Louis was executed on the
same ground where the Queen, the Princess Elizabeth, and so many other noble victims of
the Revolution perished ; where Robespierre and Danton afterwards suffered ; and where the
Emperor Alexander and the allied sovereigns took their station, when their victorious troops
entered Paris in 1814 ! The history of modern Europe has not a scene fraught with equally
interesting recollections to exhibit. It is now marked by the colossal obelisk of blood-red
granite which was brought from Thebes, in Upper Egypt, in 1 833, by the French govern-
ment."— Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 79
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION CONTINUED. '
The death of the unfortunate Louis XVI. had excited profound terror in
France, and in Europe a mingled feeling of astonishment and indignation.
As the most clear-sighted revolutionists had foreseen, the mortal conflict had
now begun, and all retreat was irrevocably cut off. They must, therefore,
combat the coalition of the thrones and conquer it, or perish under its blows.
Accordingly, it was said in the Assembly, at the Jacobins, in short every-
where, that it behoved them to devote their whole attention to external de-
fence, and from that moment questions of war and finance were constantly
the order of the day.
We have seen with what dread each of the two domestic parties inspired
the other. The Jacobins regarded the resistance opposed to the condemna-
tion of Louis XVI., and the horror excited in many departments by the ex-
cesses committed since the 10th of August, as a dangerous relic of royalism.
They had, therefore, doubted their victory till the very last moment, but the
easy execution of the 21st of January had at length given them fresli confi-
dence. They had since begun to conceive that the cause of the Revolution
might be saved, and they prepared addresses to enlighten the departments
and to complete their conversion. The Girondins, on the contrary, already
touched by the fate of the victim, and alarmed besides at the victory of their
adversaries,* began to discover in the event of the 21st of January the pre-
lude to long and sanguinary atrocities, and the first act of the inexorable sys-
tem which they were combating. The prosecution of the authors of Sep-
tember had, it is true, been granted to them, but this was a concession with-
out result. In abandoning Louis XVI., they meant to prove that they were
not royalists ; and by giving up the Septembrisers to them, their opponents
meant to prove that they were not protectors of crime ; but this twofold
proof had not satisfied or cheered anybody. They were still considered as
first republicans and almost royalists, and they still viewed their adversaries
as foes athirst for blood and carnage. Roland, utterly discouraged, not by
the danger, but by the manifest impossibility to be serviceable, resigned on
the 23d of January. The Jacobins rejoiced at this circumstance, but they
immediately cried out that the traitors Clavieres and Lebrun, whom the in-
triguing Brissot had made his tools, were still in the administration ; that the
evil was not wholly remedied; that they ought not to relax, but on the con-
trary to redouble their zeal, till they had removed from the government the
intriguers, the Girondins, the Rolandins, the Brissotins, &e. The Giron-
dfns immediately demanded the re-organization of the ministry of war,which
• " The Mountaineers, by the catastrophe of the 2 1st of January, had obtained a great
victory over the Girondins, who had a system of politics far more rigid than their own, and
who wished to save the Revolution without staining it with blood. Hence they were ac-
cused of being enemies to the people, because they raised their voice against their exec
and with betraying the republic, because they recommended tuodciation." — Migntt. E.
80 HISTORY OF THE
Pache, from his weakness towards the Jacobins, had brought into the most
deplorable state.
Thus the two leaders who divided the administration between them, and
whose names had become the two opposite rallying-points, were excluded
from the government. The majority of the Convention imagined that in
this they had done something in favour of peace ; as if, in suppressing the
names which the passions made use of, those passions themselves were not
left to find new names and to continue the conflict. Beurnonville, the friend
of Dumouriez, surnamed the French Ajax, was called to the war depart-
ment. He was as yet known to the parties by his bravery alone ; but his
attachment to discipline was soon to bring him into opposition with the un-
ruly spirit of the Jacobins. After these measures, questions of finance, which
were of the utmost importance at this critical moment, when the Revolution
had to combat all Europe, were placed upon the order of the day. At the
same time it was decided that, in a fortnight at the latest, the committee of
the constitution should present its report, and that immediately afterwards
Wihe subject of public instruction should be taken up.
A great number of people, not comprehending the cause of the revolu-
tionary disturbances, imagined that all the calamities of the state were
occasioned by defective laws, and that the constitution would put an end to
all these disorders. Accordingly, a great part of the Girondins and all the
members of the Plain kept incessantly demanding the constitution and com-
plaining that it was delayed, saying that their mission was to complete it.
They really believed so ; they all imagined that they had been deputed for
this object alone, and that it was a business which might be performed in a
few months. They were not yet aware that fate had called them not to
constitute but to fight: that their terrible mission was to defend the Revolu-
tion against Europe and La Vendee ; that very soon they were to change
from a deliberative body, which they were, to a sanguinary dictatorship,
which should at one and the same time proscribe internal enemies, battle
with Europe and the revolted provinces, and defend itself on all sides by
violence ; that their laws, transient as a crisis, would be considered as merely
fits of anger : and that the only part of their work destined to subsist was the
glory of the defence, the sole and terrible mission which they had received
from fate ; neither did they yet perceive that this ought to be the only one.
However, whether from the lassitude of a long struggle, or from the
unanimity of opinions on questions of war, all agreed upon the point of de-
fending themselves and even of provoking the enemy. A sort of calm
succeeded the terrible agitation produced by the trial of Louis XVI. ; and
Brissot was still applauded for his diplomatic reports against the foreign
powers.
Such was the internal situation of France, and the state of the parties
which divided it. Its situation in regard to Europe was alarming. It was
a general rupture with all the powers. France had hitherto had but three
enemies, Piedmont, Austria, and Prussia. The Revolution, everywhere
approved by the people according to the degree of their enlightenment, every-
where hateful to the governments according to the degree of their apprehen-
sions, had nevertheless produced perfectly new impressions on the world,
by the terrible events of the 10th of August, the 2d and 3d of September!
and the 21st of January. Less disdained since it had so energetically
defended itself, but less esteemed since it had sullied itself by crime, it had
not ceased to excite as deep an interest in the people, and to be treated with
as much scorn by the governments.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 81
The war, therefore, was about to become general. We have seen Austria
suffering herself to be involved by family connexions in a war by no means
serviceable to her interests. We have seen Prussia, whose natural interest
it was to ally herself with France against the head of the empire, inarching
for the most frivolous reasons beyond the Rhine, and compromising her
armies in the Argonne. We have seen Catherine, * formerly a philosopher,
deserting, like all the courtiers, the cause which she had at first espoused
from vanity, persecuting the Revolution at once from fashion and from policy,
sacking Gustavus, the Emperor of Austria, and the King of Prussia, to
divert their attention from Poland and to engage them with the West. We
have seen Piedmont attacking France contrary to her interests, but for rea-
sons of relationship and hatred of the Revolution. We have seen the petty
courts of Italy detesting our new republic, but not daring to attack, nay, even
acknowledging it at sight of our flag; Switzerland preserving a strict neu-
trality; Holland and the Germanic diet not yet speaking out but betraying a
deep grudge; Spain observing a prudent neutrality under the influence of
the wise Count d'Aranda; lastly, England suffering France to tear herself to
pieces, the continent to exhaust itself, the colonies to lay themselves waste,
and thus leaving the execution of her vengeance to the inevitable disorders
of revolutions.
The new revolutionary impetuosity was about to disconcert all these cal-
culated neutralities. Thus far, Pitt had shown sound judgment in the line
of conduct which he adopted. In his country, a half-and-half revolution,
which had but in part regenerated the social state, had left a number of feudal
institutions standing, which could not but be objects of attachment to the
aristocracy and the court, and objects of censure with the opposition. Pitt
had a double aim : in the first place to moderate the aristocratic hatred, to
repress the spirit of reform, and thus to secure his administration by con-
trolling both parties : secondly, to crush France beneath her own disasters
and the hatred which all the governments of Europe bore against her. He
wished, in short, to make his country mistress of the world, and to be master
* " Catherine the Second, Empress of Russia, was born at Stettin, in 1729, where her
father, Prince of Anhalt-Zerbst, and Prussian field-marshal, was governor. The Empress
Elizabeth chose her for the wife of her nephew, Peter, whom she appointed her successor.
The marriage was celebrated in 1745. It was not a happy one, but Catherine consoled her-
self by u variety of lovers. Among others, a young Pole, Stanislaus Poniatow ski, gained her
affections, and by her influence, was appointed by the King of Poland his ambassador at the
court of St. Petersburg. In 1761, the Empress Elizabeth died, and Peter IH. ascended the
throne, lie now became more than ever estranged from his wife Catherine, which led to a
conspiracy headed by Gregory Orloff, her favourite; and the result of which was the death
of Peter in prison. In 1774, the empress concluded an advantageous peace with the Porte,
by which she secured the free navigation of the Black Sea. At this time Potemkin was
Catherine's chief favourite ; who, in 1784, conquered the Crimea, and extended the confines
of Russia to the Caucasus. In 1787, the empress's memorable triumphal journey to Tauris
took place, when, throughout a distance of nearly a thousand leagues, nothing but feasts and
spectacles ,,f various kinds was to be seen. Palaces were raised on barren heaths, to be
inhabited only lor a day, and Catherine was surrounded by a multitude of people, who were
i during the night to afford her the mom spectacle the following day. When, in
1791, Poland wished to change its constitution, the empress took part with the opponents of
the plan, garrisoned the country with her troops, and concluded a new treaty of partition with
f Berlin in 1792. About this time, Catherine broke off all connexion with the
French republic, assisted the emigrants, and entered into an alliance with England against
France, she died of apoplexy in 1796. With all the weakness of hei sex, and with a love
of pl< to lice miousness, she combined the firmness and talent becoming a pom
Jul sovereign. She favoured distinguished authors, and affected great partiality for the French.
philosophers." — Encyclopstdia Americana. E.
VOL II. 11
82 HISTORY OF THE
of his country. Such was the twofold object which he pursued with the
vanity and the strength of mind of a great statesman. Neutrality was won-
derfully favourable to his projects. While preventing war, he repressed the
blind hatred of his court for liberty ; while leaving the excesses of the French
Revolution to develop themselves without impediment, he daily made cutting
replies to the apologists of that revolution — replies which prove nothing, but
which produce a certain effect. He answered Fox, the most eloquent
speaker of the opposition and of England, by reciting the crimes of reformed
France. Burke, a vehement declaimer, was employed to enumerate those
crimes,* and he did it with an absurd violence. One day, he even went so
far as to throw upon the table a dagger, which, he said, was manufactured
by the Jacobin propagandists.! While in Paris Pitt was accused of paying
emissaries to excite disturbances ; in London he accused the French revolu-
tionists of spending money to excite revolutions, and our emigrants accredited
these rumours by repeating them. While by this Machiavelian logic he
counteracted the spells which French liberty would have thrown over the
English, he excited Europe against us, and his envoys disposed all the
powers to war. In Switzerland he had not succeeded, but at the Hague, the
docile stadtholder, tried by a first revolution, still distrustful of his people,
and having no other support than the English fleets, had given him a sort
of satisfaction, and had, by many hostile demonstrations, testified his ill-will
to France.
It was in Spain more particularly that Pitt set intrigues at work, to inge
her to the greatest blunder she ever committed — that of joining England
against France, her only maritime ally. The Spaniards had been little
moved by our revolution, and it was not so much reasons of safety and
* " However the arguments of Burke may seem to have been justified by posterior events,
it yet remains to be shown that the war-cry then raised against France did not greatly con-
tribute to the violence which characterized that period. It is possible that, had he merely
roused the attention of the governments and wealthy classes to the dangers of this new politi-
cal creed, he might have proved the saviour of Europe ; but he made such exaggerated state-
ments, and used arguments so alarming to freedom, that on many points he was not only
plausibly, but victoriously, refuted." — Dumont. E.
" There was something exaggerated at all times in the character as well as the eloquence
of Burke: and, upon reading at this distance of time his celebrated composition, it must be
confessed that the colours he has used in painting the extravagances of the Revolution ought
to have been softened, by considering the peculiar state of a country which, long labouring
under despotism, is suddenly restored to the possession of unembarrassed licence. On the
other hand, no political prophet ever viewed futurity with a surer ken." — Scott's Life of
Napoleon. E.
"Mr. Burke, by his tropes and figures, so dazzled both the ignorant and the learned, that
they could not distinguish the shades between liberty and licentiousness, between anarchy
and despotism. He gave a romantic and novel air to the whole question. A crazy, obsolete
government was metamorphosed into an object of fancied awe and veneration, like a moulder-
ing gothic ruin, which, however delightful to look at or read of, is not at all pleasant to live
under. Mr. Pitt has been hailed by his flatterers as 'the pilot that weathered the storm ;' but
it was Burke who at this giddy, maddening period, stood at the prow of the vessel of the state,
and with his glittering, pointed spear, harpooned the Leviathan of the French Revolution."
—Hazlitt. E.
•f " On the second reading of the Alien Bill in the House of Commons, Mr. Burke, in
mentioning that an order for making three thousand daggers had arrived some time before at
Birmingham, a few of which had been actually delivered, drew one from under his coat, and
threw it indignantly on the floor : ' This,' said he, ' is what you are to gain by an alliance
with France ! Wherever their principles arc introduced, their practice must also follow.'
The speech which Mr. Burke made on this occasion was excellent ; but the action which
accompanied it was not in such good taste." — Prior's Life of Burke. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 83
policy, as reasons of kindred, repugnances common to all governments, that
indisposed the cabinet of Madrid towards the French republic. The prudent
Count d'Aranda, resisting the intrigues of the emigrants, the spleen of the
aristocracy, and the suggestions of Pitt, had studiously forborne to wound
isceptibility of our new government. Overthrown, however, at length,
and replaced by Don Manuel Godoy, since Prince of the Peace,* he left hie
unhappy country a prey to the worst counsels. Till then the cabinet of
Madrid had refused to speak out in regard to France. At the moment of the
definite judgment of Louis XVI. it had offered the political acknowledgment
of the French republic, and its mediation with all the powers, if the de-
throned monarch were Buffered to live. The only answer to this offer was
a proposal of war by Danton, and the assembly adopted the order of the da) .
Ever since that time, the disposition to war had not been doubtful. Cata-
lonia was idling with troops. In all the ports armaments were in active
progress, and a speedy attack was resolved upon. Pitt triumphed, therefore,
and, without yet declaring himself, without committing himself too hastily,
* " Don Manuel de Godoy, Duke of Alcudia, Prince of the Peace, and favourite of King
Charles of Spain, was born in 1764 at Badajos. He was distinguished by a tall, handsome
figure, and excelled in most light accomplishments. He early entered the body-guard of the
King, and became a favourite at court, especially with the Queen. In 1792 he was made
premier in the place of Aranda, and in 1795, as a reward for his pretended services in making
peace with France, he was created Prince of the Peace, a grandee of the first class, and pre-
sented with an estate that secured him an income of fifty thousand dollars. He married, in
1797, Donna Maria Theresa of Bourbon, a daughter of the Infant Don Luis, brother of King
Charles. In 1798 he resigned his post as premier, but was in the same year appointed gene-
ral-in-chief of the Spanish forces. A decree in 1807 bestowed on him the title of highness,
and unlimited power over the whole monarchy. In the meantime the hatred of the people
against the overbearing favourite was excited to the highest degree ; and he would have lost
his life, if the Prince of Asturias had not exerted himself to save him, at the instance of the
King and Queen, on condition that he should be tried. The occurrences at Bayonne, how-
ever, intervened. Napoleon, who wished to employ the influence of the Prince of the
Peace with King Charles, procured his release from prison, and summoned him to Bayonne,
where he became the moving spring of everything done by the King and Queen of Spain.
Since that time, he has lived in France, and still later, in Rome, where he enjoyed the friend-
ship of the King and Queen till the death of both in 1819. — Encyclopaedia Americana. He
still survives and resides in Paris. E.
"The Prince of the Peace is one of those extraordinary characters who have obtained
celebrity without any just grounds. I both saw and heard a great deal respecting him during
my stay in Spain. — One day on entering the audience chamber, where I had scarcely room
to move, as the King and Queen were both standing very near the door, I beheld a man at
the other end of the apartment, whose attitude and bearing appeared to me parftcularly ill
suited to the audience chamber of royalty. He appeared to be thirty-four or thirty-five years
of age, and his countenance was of that description which a fine, well-grown, hearty young
man usually presents ; but there was no trace of dignity in his appearance. He was covered
with decorations and orders, and I might reasonably suppose, therefore, that he was an im-
portant personage. And I was not wrong, it was Godoy, Prince of the Peace ! I was
struck with Kiiqmse at his free and easy manner. He was leaning, or rather lying, on a
console at the further end of the apartment, and was playing with a curtain tassel which was
within his reach. At this period his favour at court was immense, and beyond all example.
He was prime minister, counsellor of state, commander of four companies of life-guards, and
generalissimo of the forces by sea and land, a rank which no person in Spain had ever pos-
sessed before him, and which was created expressly to give him precedence over the captains-
general." — Duchess oVAbrantes.
" Manuel Godoy, originally a private in the guards, reigned in Spain under the name of
the imbecile Charles IV. He was an object of contempt and execration to all who were
not his creatures. What other sentiments indeed could have been inspired by a man, who
owed the favour of the King only to the favours of the Queen ? Godoy's power was abso-
lute, and he made the most infamous use of it." — Bourrienne. E.
84 HISTORY OF THE
he gained time to raise his navy to a formidable state, he gratified the
British aristocracy by his preparation, he rendered our revolution unpopular
by declamations which Ih> paid for; and, while he thus strengthened him-
self in silence, he prepared for us an overwhelming league, which, by
employing all our forces, prevented us from succouring our colonies, or
checking the progress of the British power in India.
Never, at any period, had Europe, seized with such blindness, been
known to commit so many faults against herself. In the west, Spain, Hol-
land, all the maritime powers were seen, misled by the aristocratic passions,
arming with their enemy, England, against France, their only ally. Prus-
sia again was seen, from an inconceivable vanity, uniting with the head of
the empire against France, an alliance with which had always been recom-
mended by the great Frederic. The petty King of Sardinia committed tin-
same fault, from more natural motives indeed — those of relationship. In the
east and north, Catherine was allowed to perpetrate a crime upon Poland.
an attempt against the safety of Germany, for the frivolous advantage of
gaining a few provinces, and to enable herself still to tear France to pieces
without hindrance. Renouncing, therefore, at once, all old and useful
friendships, the nations yielded to the perfidious suggestions of the two
most formidable powers, to arm against our unfortunate country, the ancient
protectress or ally of those which now attacked her. All contributed to
this, all lent themselves to the views of Pitt and Catherine ; imprudent
Frenchmen traversed Europe to hasten this fatal overthrow of pole--
prudence, and to draw down upon their native; land the most tremendous
storms. And what could be the motives for pursuing such a strange con-
duct? Poland was delivered up to Catherine, France to Pitt, beeaut
one was desirous of regulating her ancient liberty, and the other had re-
solved to give to herself that liberty which she had not yet poss<
France had, it is true, committed excesses ; but these excesses were about
to be increased by the violence of the struggle ; and, without destroying that
detested liberty, the allies were about to prepare a thirty years' war of the
most sanguinary kind, to provoke vast invasions, to call a conqueror into
existence, to produce immense disorders, and to conclude by the establish-
ment of the two colossal powers which now control Europe on the two
elements, England and Russia.
Amidst this general conspiracy, Denmark alone, under the guidance of
an able minister, and Sweden, delivered from the presumptuous dreams of
Gusta#us, maintained a wise reserve, which Holland and Spain ought to
have imitated, by joining the system of armed neutrality. The French
government had justly appreciated these general dispositions, and the impa-
tience which characterized it at this moment would not allow it to wait for
the declarations of war, but urged it. on the contrary, to provoke them.
Ever since the 10th of August, it had not ceased demanding to tie aeknow-
!. but it had still shown some moderation in regard to England, whose
neutrality was valuable, on account of the enemies which it had to
combat. But, after the 21st of January, it had set aside all considerations,
and determined upon a universal war. Seeing that secret hostilities were
not less dangerous than open hostilities, it was impatient to compel it!
mies to declare themselves ; accordingly, on the 22d of January, the
National Convention took a review of all the cabinets, ordered reports
tive to the conduct of each in regard to France, and prepared to declai
against them if they did not forthwith explain themselves in a categorical
manner.
i
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 85
E\
Ever since the 10th of August, England had withdrawn her ambassador
from Paris, and had suffered M. de Chauvelin,*' the French ambassador in
London, to remain only in the character of the envoy of dethroned royalty.
All these diplomatic subtilties had no other aim than to satisfy etiquette in
regard to the King confined in the Temple, and at the same time to defer
hostilities, which it was not yet convenient to commence. Meanwhile Pitt,
to cloak his real intentions, applied for a secret envoy to whom he might
communicate his complaints against the French government. Citizen
Marett was sent in the month of December. He had an interview with
Pitt. After mutual protestations, for the purpose of declaring that the inter-
view had no official character, that it was purely amicable, that it had no
other motive than to enlighten the two nations on the subject of their recip-
rocal grievances, Pitt complained that France threatened the allies of Eng-
land, thai she even attacked their interests, and cited Holland as a proof.
The principal grievance alleged was the opening of the Scheldt, perhaps an
imprudent but yet a generous measure, which the French had taken on en-
tering the Netherlands. It was absurd, in fact, that in order to secure to the
Dutch the monopoly of the navigation, the Netherlands, through which the
Scheldt runs, should not be allowed to make use of that river. Austria had
not dared to abolish this servitude, but Dumouriez had done so by order of
his government ; and the inhabitants of Antwerp had with joy beheld ships
ascend the Scheldt to their city. The answer was noble and easy, for
France, in respecting the right of neutral neighbours, had not promised to
sanction political iniquities, because neutrals were interested in them. Be-
sides, the Dutch government had manifested so much ill-will as not to
deserve to be treated with such tenderness. The second grievance adduced
was the decree of the 15th of November, by which the National Conven-
tion promised assistance to all those nations which should shake off the yoke
of tyranny. This perhaps imprudent decree, passed in a moment of enthu-
siasm, was not to be construed, as Pitt asserted, into an invitation to all
nations to rebel, but signified that, in all the countries at war with the Revo-
lution, aid would be afforded to the people against their governments.
Lastly, Pitt complained of the continual threats and declamations of the
Jacobins against all governments. In this respect the governments were not
behindhand with the Jacobins, and on the score of vituperation, neither side
was in debt to the other.
This interview led to nothing, and only showed that England merely
• " Francois, Marquis de Chauvelin, descended from a celebrated French family, was born
in 1770, and eagerly embraced the cause of the Revolution. In 1791, he became first aide-
de-camp of General Rochambeau, and displayed so much talent, that in the following year,
on the proposal of Dumouriez, he was appointed ambassador to England, who however broke
off all diplomatic intercourse with France, after the execution of Louis XVI. During the
Reign of Terror, Chauvelin was thrown into prison, from which he was 60on afterwards
released, and, under the Directory, devoted himself entirely to the sciences. Napoleon ap-
pointed him prefect of the department of the Lys, and subsequently sent him into Catalonia
as intendant-general. After the Restoration he was elected a member of the chamber of
deputies, and much admired as a popular orator." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
j- " Hugues Bern Maret, born at Dijon in 1758, and engaged in the French diplomatic
corps, was, in the year 1792, first sent by the French to the English government, in order to
prevent it from joining the coalition ; but his efforts were fruitless. Shortly after he was
appointed ambassador to Naples, but, on his way thither, be wa< seised by the Austrian
troops and imprisoned at Custrin. He obtained his release in 1795. In the year 1799 he
became secretary to the consular council of state, and in 1803 accompanied the first consul
to Holland, and afterwards attended him in his various journeys. Napoleon created him
Duke of Dassano." — Biographic Modcrne. E.
86 HISTORY OF THE
sought to delay the war, which she had no doubt determined upon, but
which it did not yet suit her to declare. The celebrated trial in January
served, however, to accelerate events ; the English parliament was suddenly
called together, before its usual time. An inquisitorial law was enacted
against the French travelling in England ; the Tower of London was armed ;
the militia was ordered out ; preparations and proclamations announced an
impending war. Pains were taken to excite the populace of London, and
to kindle that blind passion which in England causes war with France to be
considered as a great national service ; lastly, vessels laden with corn and
bound to our ports were stopped, and on the news of the 21st of January,
the French ambassador, whom the British government had till then in some
sort refused to recognise, was enjoined to leave the kingdom in a week.
The National Convention immediately ordered a report on the conduct of
the English government towards France, and on its communications with the
stadtholder of the United Provinces ; and, upon the 1st of February, after
a speech by Brissot, who for a moment earned the applause of both parties,
it solemnly declared war against Holland and England. War with the
Spanish government was imminent, and though not yet declared, it was con-
sidered as such. Thus France had all Europe for her foe ; and the con-
demnation of the 21st of January had been the act by which she had
broken with all thrones, and pledged herself irrevocably to the career of
revolution.
It was requisite to oppose the terrible assault of so many combined
powers ; and, rich as France was in population and materiel, it was difficult
for her to withstand the universal effort that was directed against her. Her
chiefs were not on that account the less filled with confidence and audacity.
The unexpected successes of the republic in the Argonne and in Belgium
had persuaded them that every man, and especially the Frenchman, may be-
come a soldier in six months. The movement which agitated France con-
vinced them, moreover, that their whole population might be transferred to
the field of battle ; that thus they might have three or four millions of men
capable of being converted into soldiers, and surpass in this respect all that
the combined sovereigns of Europe were able to do. Look, said they, at
all the kingdoms ! You see a small number of men, raised with difficulty
to fill up the skeletons of the armies ; the entire population has nothing to
do with them, so that a handful of men, trained and formed into regiments,
decide the fate of the mightiest empires. But suppose, on the contrary, a
■ whole nation torn from private life, arming for its defence, must it not over-
throw all ordinary calculations ? What is there impossible for twenty-Jive
milllotis of men to execute? — As for the expense, they felt as little concern
on that subject. The capital of the national property was daily increasing
in consequence of emigration, and far exceeded the debt. At the moment,
this capital was not available for want of purchasers ; but the assignats sup-
plied their place, and their factitious value made amends tor the deferred
value of the property which they represented. They were, indeed, reduced
to one-third of their nominal value; but it was only adding one-third to the
circulation, and this capital was so vast, that it more than sufficed for the
excess which it was necessary to issue. After all those men who were
about to be transferred to the field of battle lived well at their own homes,
many of them even in luxury ; why should they not live in the field ?
Could men lack soil and food wherever they might happen to be ? 15
social order, such as it was, possessed more wealth than was requisite to
supply the necessities of all. It was only a better distribution that was
11 .
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 87
wanted ; and to this end it was right to tax the rich, and to make them bear
tin- exfMBM of the war. Moreover, the states into which they were about
to penetrate had also an ancient social order to overturn, and abuses to de-
stroy ; they had immense profits to extract from the clergy, the nobility,
royalty, and it was fit that they should pay France for the aid which she
would furnish them.
Thus argued the ardent imagination of Cambon, and such ideas seized all
heads. The old politics of cabinets had formerly calculated upon one or two
hundred thousand soldiers, paid with the produce of certain taxes or the
revenues of certain domains. Now it was a mass of men, rising of itself,
and saying) / will compose armies ; looking at the sum total of wealth, and
again saying, That sum is sufficient, and shared among all, will suffice for
the want* of all. It was not, it is true, the entire nation that held this fan-
gnage, but it was the most enthusiastic portion that formed these resolutions,
and prepared by all possible means to impose them on the mass of the nation.
Before we exhibit the distribution of the resources devised by the French
revolutionists) we must turn to our frontiers, and see how the last campaign
terminated. Its outset had been brilliant, but a first success, badly supported,
had served only to extend our line of operations, and to provoke a more
vigorous and decisive effort on the part of the enemy. Thus our defence
had become more difficult, because it was more extended ; the beaten enemy
was about to react with energy, and his redoubled effort was to be concurrent
with an almost general disorganization of our armies. Add to this that the
number of the coalesced powers was doubled ; for the English on our coasts,
the Spaniards on the Pyrenees, and the Dutch in the north of the Nether-
lands, threatened us with new attacks.
Duinouriez had stopped short on the banks of the Meuse, and had not
been able to push forward to the Rhine, for reasons which have not been
sufficiently appreciated, because people have not been able to account for the
tardiness which succeeded his first rapidity. On his arrival at Liege, the
disorganization of his army was complete. The soldiers were almost naked;
for want of shoes they wrapped hay round their feet; meat and bread were
all that they had in any abundance, thanks to a contract which Dumouriez
had authoritatively maintained. But they were utterly destitute of ready
money, and plundered the peasants, or fought with them to oblige them to
take assignats. The horses died for want of forage, and those of the artillery
had almost all perished. Privations and the suspension of military opera-
tions disgusted the soldiers ; all the volunteers quitted in bands, on the
strength of a decree declaring that the country had ceased to be in danger.
The Convention had been obliged to pass another decree to prevent the de-
sertion, and the gendarmerie stationed on the high roads was scarcely able,
strict as it was, to stop the fugitives. The army was reduced by one-third.
These combined causes had not allowed the Austrians to be pursued so
briskly as they ought to have been. Clairfayt had had time to intrench
himself 00 the hanks of the Erft, and Heaulieu towards Luxemburg ; and it
was impossible for Dumouriez, with an army dwindled to thirty or forty
thousand men, to drive before him an enemy intrenched in the mountains
and woods, and supported upon Luxemburg, one of the strongest fortresses
in the world. If, as it was constantly repeated, Custiue, instead of making
incursions in Germany, had made a dash upon Coblentz. if he had joined
Beurnonville for the purpose of taking Treves, and if both had then descended
the Rhine, Dumouriez also might have advanced to it by Cologne. All three
would thus have supported one another, Luxemburg might have been in,
88 HISTORY OF THE
vested, and have fallen for want of communications. But nothing of the sort
had taken place. Custine had been desirous of drawing the war to his
quarter, and had done no more than uselessly provoke a declaration of the
imperial diet, irritate the vanity of the King of Prussia, and bind him further
to the coalition. Beurnonville, left single-handed, had not been able to reduce
Treves; and the enemy had maintained his ground both in die electoral
Treves, and in the duchy of Luxemburg. Damouriez, in advancing towards
the Rhine, would have exposed his right flank and his rear, and besides, he
would not have been able, in the state in which his army was, to reduce the
immense tract extending from the Meuse to the Rhine and the frontiers of
Holland, a difficult country, without means of transport, intersected by woods
and mountains, and occupied by a still formidable enemy. Assuredly Du-
mouriez, had he possessed the means, would much rather have made con-
quests on the Rhine, than have gone to Paris to make solicitations in behalf
of Louis XVI. The zeal for royalty, which he afterwards professed while
in London, in order to give himself consequence, and which the Jacobins
imputed to him in Paris in order to ruin him, was certainly not strong enough
to induce him to renounce victories, and to go and compromise himself
among the factions of the capital. He quitted the field of battle solely be-
cause he could do no more there, and because he wished by his presence
with the government to put an end to the difficulties which had been raised
up against him in Belgium.
We have already witnessed the difficulties amidst which his conquest
placed him. The conquered country desired a revolution, but not a complete
and radical one, like the revolution of France. . Dumouriez, from inclination,
from policy, and from reasons of military prudence, could do no other than
pronounce in favour of the moderate wishes of the country which be occu-
pied. We have already seen him struggling to spare the Belgians the
inconveniences of war, to give them a share in the profits of supplies, and,
lastly, to smuggle rather than force assignats into circulation among thorn.
The invectives of the Jacobins paid him for these pains. Caraboo had pre-
pared another mortification for Dumouriez, by causing the Assembly to pass
the decree of the 15th of December. " We must," said Cambon, amidst the
loudest applause, "declare ourselves a revolutionary power in the countries
which we enter. It is useless to hide ourselves. Tin1 despots know what
we mean. Since it is guessed, let us boldly proclaim it, and let, moreover,
the justice of it be avowed. Wherever our generals enter, let them proclaim
the sovereignty of the people, the abolition of feudalism, of tithes, of all
abuses ; let all the old authorities be dissolved ; let new local administrations
be provisionally formed, under the direction of our generals ; let these ad-
ministrations govern the country, and devise the means of forming national
conventions, which shall decide its lot; let the property of our enemies, t!i
to say, the property of the nobles, the priests, the communities, lav or reli-
gious, of the churches, <fec, lie immediately sequestrated and placed under
the safeguard of the French nation, which shall be accountable for it to the
local administrations, in order that it may serve as a pledge for the expen
of the war, of which the delivered countries ought to pay their share, because
the object of the war is to set them at liberty. Let the account be balanced
after the campaign. If the republic has received in supplies more than the
portion of the expense due to it shall amount to, it shall pay the surplus; if
otherwise, the balance shall be paid to it. Let our assignats, founded on the
new distribution of property, be received in the conquered countries, and let
their field extend with the principles which have produced them. Lastly,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 89
let the executive power send commissioners to make friendly arrangement
with these provisional administrations, to fraternize with them, to keep the
accounts of the republic, and to execute the decree of sequestration. No
half revolution !" added Cambon. " Every nation that will not go the length
which we here propose, shall be our enemy, and shah deserve to lie treated
!i. Peace and fraternity to all the friends of liberty ! — war to the base
partisans of despotism ! — >car to the mansions, peace to the cottages.'"*
These sentiments had been immediately sanctioned by a decree, and car-
ried into execution in all the conquered provinces. A host of agents, selected
by the executive power from among the Jacobins, immediately spread them-
over Belgium. The provisional administrations had been formed
under their inlluence, and they impelled them to the excesses of the wildest
democracy. The populace, excited by them against the middle classes,
committed the greatest outrages* It was the anarchy of 1793, to which we
had been progressively led by four years of commotion, produced there
abruptly, and without any transition from the old to the new order of things.
These proconsuls, invested with almost absolute power, caused persons and
property to lie imprisoned and sequestrated ; they had stripped the churches
of all their plate ; this had soured the minds of the unfortunate Belgians, who
were strongly attached to their religious worship, and, above all, furnished
occasion for many peculations. They had caused conventions to be formed
to decide the fate of each province, and under their despotic influence, the
incorporation with France had been voted at Liege, Brussels, Moos, and
other places. These were inevitable evils, and so much the greater, as re-
volutionary violence combined with military brutality to produce them.
Dissensions of a different kind had also broken out in this unhappy country.
The agents of the executive power claimed obedience to their orders from
the generals who were within the limits of their district; and, if these gene-
rals were not Jacobins, as it was frequently the case, this was a new occasion
for quarrels and wrangling, which contributed to augment the general disor-
der. Dumouriez, indignant at seeing his conquests compromised, as well
by the disorganization of his army as by the hatred excited in the Belgians,
had already harshly treated some of the proconsuls, and had repaired to Paris
to express his indignation, with all the vivacity of his character, and all the
independence of a victorious general, who deemed himself necessary to the
republic.
Such was our situation on this principal theatre of the war. Custine, hav-
ing fallen back to Mayence, declaimed there on the manner in which Beur-
nonville had executed the attempt on Treves. At the Alps, Kellerman
maintained his positions at Chambery and Nice. Servan strove in vain to
compose an army at the Pyrenees, and Mon<rc, as weak towards the Jaco-
bins as Pache had shown himself, had suffered the administration of the ma-
rine to be decomposed. It was necessary, therefore, to direct the whole
public attention to the defence of the frontiers. Dumouriez had passed the
end of December and the, month of January in Paris, where he had compro-
mised himself by certain expressions in favour of Louis XVI., by his absence
from the Jacobins, where he was continually announced, but where he never
• " ' War to the mansions — peace to the cottages,' was the principle of the French Revo-
lution. Its proclamation necessarily set the two classes of society throughout Europe at
variance with each other; and instead of the ancient rivalry of Kings, introduced the fiercer
strife of the people. The contest henceforth raged not only between nation and nation, but
between interest and interest; and the strife of opinion superseded that of glory." —
Alison. E. ' •
VOL. II. — 12 H 2
n
90 HISTORY OF THE
appeared, and, lastly, by his intercourse with his old friend, Gensonne. He
had drawn up four memorials ; one on the decree of the 15th of December,
another on the organization of the army, a third on the supplies, and the
last on the plan of campaign for the year that was commencing. To each
of these memorials he subjoined his resignation in case of the rejection of
what he proposed.
The Assembly had, in addition to its diplomatic committee and its mili-
tary committee, appointed a third extraordinary committee, called the com-
mittee of general defence, authorized to direct its attention to everything that
concerned the defence of France. It was very numerous, and all the mem-
bers of the Assembly might even, if they pleased, attend its sittings. The
object with which it had been formed was to conciliate the members of the
opposite parties, and to make them easy in regard to each other's intentions.
oy causing them to labour together for the general welfare. Robespierre,
irritated at seeing Girondins there, rarely attended : the Girondins, on the
contrary, were very assiduous. Dumouriez introduced himself with his
plans, was not always understood, frequently displeased by the high tone
which he assumed, and left his memorials to their fate. He then retired to
some distance from Paris, by no means disposed to resign his command,
though he had held out that threat to the Convention, and awaited the mo-
ment for opening the campaign.
He had entirely lost his popularity with the Jacobins, and was daily tra-
duced in Marat's papers for having supported the half-and-half revolution in
Belgium, and there shown great severity against the demagogues. He was
accused of having wilfully suffered the Austrians to escape from Belgium ;
and, going back still farther, his enemies publicly asserted that he had open-
ed the outlets of the Argonne to Frederick-William, whom he might have
destroyed. The members of the council and of the committees, who did not
give themselves up so blindly to the passions which swayed the rabble, were
still sensible of his utility, and still courteous to him. Robespierre even de-
fended him by throwing the blame of all these faults upon his pretended
friends, the Girondins. Thus people agreed in giving him all possible satis-
faction, without derogating, however, from the decrees that had been passed,
and the rigorous principles of the Revolution. His two commissaries. Mains
ami Petit Jean, were restored, and numerous reinforcements were granted to
him : he was promised sufficient supplies ; his ideas for the general plan of
the campaign were adopted; but no concession was made as to the <1
of the 15th of December, and the new appointments in the army. The nomi-
nation of his friend, Beurnonville, to the war department, was a new advan-
tage for him, and he had reason to hope for the greatest zeal on the part of
the administration to furnish him with everything that he stood in need of.
For a moment he had imagined that England would take him for media-
tor between herself and Prance, and he had set out for Antwerp with this
flattering notion. But the Convention, weary of the perfidies of Pitt, had,
as we have seen, declared war against Holland and England. This decla-
ration found him at Antwerp. The resolutions adopted in part from his
plans for the defence of the territory were these. It was agreed to men
the armies to 502,000 men, and this number was small according to the idea
that had been formed of the power of France, and in comparison with the
force to which they were subsequently raised. It was determined to keep
the defensive on the east and south ; to remain in observation along the 1'y
renees and the coasts, and to display all the boldness of the offensive in the
north, where, as Dumouriez had said, " there was no defending oneself but
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 91
by battles." To execute tins plan, 150,000 men were to occupy Belgium
and to cover the frontier from Dunkirk to the Meuse; 50,000 were to keep
the spare comprised between die Mouse and the Sarre; 150,000 to extend
themselves along the Rhine and the Vosges, from Mayence to Besancon and
Gex. Lastly, a reserve was prepared at Chalons, with the requisite materiel,
ready to proceed to arry quarter where it might be wanted. Savoy and Nice
were to be guarded by two armies of 70,000 men each ; the Pyrenees by one
of 40,000 ; the coasts of the Ocean and of Bretagne were to be watched by
an army of 46,000, part of which were destined for embarkation, if it were
necessary. Of these 502,000 men, 50,000 were cavalry, and 20,000 artil-
lery. Such was the projected force, but the effective was far inferior, con-
sisting of only 270,000 men, 100,000 of whom were in different parts of
Belgium, 25,000 on the Moselle, 45,000 at Mayence, under Custine, 30,000
on the Upper Rhine, 40,000 in Savoy and at Nice, and 30,000 at most in
the interior. But, to complete the number required, the Assembly decreed
that the armies should be recruited from the national guards : and that every
member of that guard/ unmarried, or if married without children, or a widower
without children, from the age of eighteen to forty* -five, was at the disposal
of the executive power. It added that 300,000 more men were necessary
to resist the coalition, and that the recruiting should not cease till that num-
ber was raised.* It decreed at the same time the issue of eight hundred
millions of assignats, and the felling of timber in Corsica for the use of the
navy.
While these plans were in progress, the campaign was opened with 270,000
men. Dumouriez had 30,000 on the Scheldt, and about 70,000 on the Meuse.
A rapid invasion of Holland was a bold project, which agitated all heads, and
into which Dumouriez was forcibly drawn by public opinion. Several plans
had been proposed. One, devised by the Batavian refugees who had quitted
their country after the Revolution of 1787, consisted in overrunning Zealand
with a few thousand men, and seizing the government, which would retire
thither, Dumouriez had affected to approve this plan ; but he deemed it
sterile, because it was confined to the occupation of an inconsiderable, and
withal an unimportant, portion of Holland. The second was his own, and
consisted in descending the Meuse by Venloo to Grave, turning off from
Grave to Nimuegeit, and then making a dash upon Amsterdam. This plan
would have been the safest, had it been possible to foresee what was to hap-
pen. But, placed at Antwerp, Dumouriez conceived a third, bolder, more
prompt, more suitable to the revolutionary imagination, and more fertile in
decisive results, if it succeeded. While his lieutenants, Miranda, Valence,t
Dampierre, and others, should descend the Meuse, and occupy Maestricht,
of which he did not care to make himself master in the preceding year, and
Venloo, which was incapable of a long resistance, Dumouriez proposed to
take with him 25,000 men, to proceed stealthily between Bergen-op-Zoom
and Breda, to reach in this manner the Moerdyk, to cross the little sea of
Bielboe, and to run by the mouths of the rivers to Leyden and Amsterdam.
* Decree of February the 24th.
f " Cyrus de Timbrune, Count de Valence, born at Toulouse, a colonel of dragoons in the
service of France, married the daughter of Madame de Genlis, devoted himself to the revolu-
tionary party, and in 1791 became a general officer. In the following year he was employed
in Luckncr'8 army, and afterwards served under Dumouriei; on whose defection, he became
BUspecHvl, and was outlawed by the Convention. In 170!) lie returned to France, was called
to tin' senate in 1805, and appointed commander of the Legion of Honour.'' — Mogruphie
Modern e.
92
HISTORY OF THE
This bold plan was quite as well grounded as many others which have suc-
ceeded ; and, if it was hazardous, it promised much greater advantages than
that of a direct attack by Venloo and Nimuegen. By pursuing the latter
course, Dumouriez would attack the Dutch, who had already made all their
preparations between Grave and Gorcum, in front, and he would even give
them time to receive English and Prussian reinforcements. On the contrary,
in advancing by the mouths of the rivers, he would penetrate by the interior
of Holland, which was utterly defenceless, and if he could surmount the ob-
stacle of the waters, Holland would be his. In returning from Amsterdam,
he would take the defences in rear, and sweep off everything between him-
self and his lieutenants, who were to join him by Nimuegen and Utrecht.
It was natural that he should take the command of the army of expedition,
because it was this service that required the greatest promptitude, boldness,
and ability. This project was attended with the same danger as all plans of
offensive warfare, that of exposing one's own country to the risk of invasion
by leaving it uncovered. Thus the Meuse would be left open to the Austri-
ans ; but in the case of a reciprocal offensive, the advantage remains with
him who the most firmly resists the danger, and gives way the least readily
to the terror of invasion.
Dumouriez despatched to the Meuse, Thouvenot, in whom he had the
utmost confidence ; he communicated to his lieutenants, Valence and Mi-
randa, the plans which he had hitherto concealed from them ; he recom-
mended to them to hasten the sieges of Maestricht and Venloo, and, in c
of delay, to succeed one another before those places, so as to be still making
progress towards Nimuegen. He also enjoined them to fix rallying-points
around Liege and Aix-la-Chapelle, for the purpose of collecting scattered
detachments, and of enabling themselves to make head against the enemy,
if he should come in force to interrupt the sieges which were to be carried
on upon the Meuse.
Dumouriez immediately quitted Antwerp with eighteen thousand men
assembled in haste. He divided his little army into several corps, which
were to summon the different fortresses, but without stopping to lay siesic
to them. His advanced guard was to dash on and secure the boats and the
means of transport; while himself, with the main body of his troops, would
keep within such distance as to be able to afford succour to any of his lieu-
tenants who might need it. On the 17th of February, 1793, he entered the
Dutch territory, and issued a proclamation promising friendship to the Bata-
vians, and war only to the stadtholder and the English influence. He ad-
vanced, leaving General Leclerc before Bergen-op-Zoom, directin«r General
Bergeron upon Klundurt and Willenstadt, and ordering the excellent en-
fineer, d'Arcon, to feign an attack upon the important fortress of Breda.
hunouriez was with the rear guard at Sevenberghe. On the 25th, General
Bergeron made himself master of the fort of Klundurt, and proceeded before
Willemstadt. General d'Arcon threw a few bombs into Breda. That place
was reputed to be very strong; the garrison was sufficient, but badly offi-
cered, and in a few hours it surrendered to an army of besiegers which
scarcely more numerous than itself. The French entered Breda on the 27th,
and found there a considerable materiel, consisting of two hundred and fifty
pieces of cannon, three hundred thousand pounds of powder, and five thou-
sand muskets. Having left a garrison in Breda, General d'Arcon proceeded
on the 1st of March, before Gertruydenberg, another very strong place, and
on the same day made himself master of all the advanced wo^ks. Duinou-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 93
riez had pushed on to the Moerdyk, and was making amends for the tardi-
; his advanced guard.
This series of successful surprises of fortresses capable of long resi-
threw groat lustre upon the opening of this campaign; but union
cits delayed the crossing of the arm of the sea, the most difficult part of this
plan. Dumouricz had at first hoped that his advanced iruard, acting more
promptly, would have seized some boats, quietly crossed the Bielbos, occu-
pied the isle of Dort, guarded by a few hundred men at the utmost, and,
securing a numerous tlotilla, would have brought it back lo the other side to
carry over the army. Inevitable delays prevented the execution of this part
of the plan. Dumouriez strove to make amends for them by seizing all the
craft that he could find, and collecting carpenters for the purpose of forming
a flotilla. It was requisite, however, to use the utmost despatch, for the
Dutch army was assembling at Goreum, at the Stry, and in the isle of Dort;
a few of the enemy's sloops and an English frigate threatened his embarca-
tion and cannonaded his camp, called by our soldiers the Beaver's Camp.
They had actually built hovels of straw, and encouraged by the presence of
their general, they braved cold, privations, dangeVs, and the chances of so
bold an enterprise, and awaited with impatience the moment for crossing to
the opposite bank. On the 3d of March, General Deflers arrived with a new
division. On the 4th, Gertruydenberg opened its gates, and everything was
ready for effecting the passage of the Bielbos.
Meanwhile, the struggle between the two parties in the interior still con-
tinued. The death of Lepelletier had already furnished occasion to the
Mountaineers to assert that they were personally threatened, and the Assem-
bly had not been able to refuse to renew, on their motion, the committee of
surveillance. The committee had been composed of Mountaineers, which,
for its first act, had ordered the apprehension of Gorsas,* a deputy and jour-
nalist attached to the interests of the Gironde. The Jacobins had obtained
another advantage, namely, the suspension of the prosecutions decreed on
the 20th of January against the authors of September. No sooner were
these prosecutions commenced, than overwhelming proofs had been disco-
vered against the principal revolutionists, and against Danton himself. The
Jacobins then started up, declaring that everybody was culpable on those
days, because everybody had deemed them necessary and permitted them.
They even had the audacity to assert that the only fault to be found with
those days was that they had been left incomplete ; and they demanded a
suspension of the proceedings, of which a handle was made to attack the
purest revolutionists. Thev had carried their motion ; the proceedings were
suspended, that is to say, abolished; and a deputation of Jacobins had im-
mediately waited on the minister of justice, to beg that -extraordinary cou-
light be despatched to stop the proceedings already commenced against
the brethren of Mean x.
We have already seen that Pache had been obliged to quit the ministry,
and that Roland had voluntarily resigned. This reciprocal concession had
not allayed animosities. The Jacobins, by no means satisfied, insisted that
• " A. J. Gorsas, born at Limoges, in 1751, edited a journal in 1789, and was one of the
first promoters of the Revolution. In 1792 he was appointed deputy to the Convention, and
ciiiauctt'il himself with the Girondins, in whose fate he was involved, having been condemned
lo death in 1 793. Gorsas was the author of an amusing satirical work, entitled ' The Car-
rier Asa.' " — Biograpliie Moderne. E.
04 HISTORY OF THE
Roland should be brought to trial. They alleged that he had robbed the
state of enormous sums, and placed more than twelve millions in London ;
that those funds were employed in perverting opinion by publications, and
in exciting disturbances by the forestalling of corn ; they demanded also that
prosecutions should be instituted against Clavieres, Lebrun, and Beumon-
ville, all traitors, according to them, and accomplices in the intrigues of the
Girondins. At the same time, they prepared a compensation of a very dif-
ferent kind for the displaced minister, who had shown them so much com-
plaisance. Cambon, the successor of Petion in the mayoralty of Paris, had
resigned functions far too arduous for his weakness. The Jacobins instantly
bethought them of Pache, in whom they discovered the wisdom and coolness
requisite for a magistrate. They applauded themselves for this idea, com-
municated it to the commune, to the sections, and to all the clubs ; and the
Parisians, influenced by them, avenged Pache for his dismission by electing
him their mayor. Provided Pache should prove as docile in this office u
he had been when minister at war, the sway of the Jacobins would be in-
sured in Paris ; and in this choice they had consulted their advantage not
less than their passions.
The dearth of provisions and the embarrassments of trade still occasioned
disturbances and complaints, and from December to February the evil had
considerably increased. The fear of commotions and pillage, the dislike of
the farmers to take paper, the high prices arising from the great abundance
of that fictitious money, were, as we have already observed, the causes which
prevented the easy traffic in grain, and produced dearth. The administra-
tive efforts of the communes had, nevertheless, in a certain degree, made
amends for the stagnation of trade ; and there was no lack of articles of con-
sumption in the markets, but they were at an exorbitant price. The value
of the assignats declining daily in proportion to their total mass, it required
a larger and larger amount to purchase the same quantity of necessaries, and
thus the prices became excessive. The people, receiving only the same
nominal value for their labour, could no longer procure such things as they
needed, and vented themselves in complaints and threats. Bread was not
the only article the price of which was enormously increased ; that of sugar,
coffee, candles, soap, was doubled. The laundresses had come to the Con-
vention to complain that they were obliged to pay thirty sous for soap, which
had formerly cost them but fourteen. To no purpose were the people told
to raise the price of their labour, in order to re-establish the proportion be-
tween their wages and the articles of consumption. They could not be
brought to act in concert for the accomplishment of this object, and cried out
against the rich, against forestalled, against the trading aristocracy ; they
demanded the simplest expedient, a fixed standard, a maximum.
The Jacobins, the members of the commune, who were mere popul
comparison with the Convention, but who, with reference to the populace
itself, were assemblies that might almost be called enlightened, were sensible
of the inconveniences of a fixed price. Though more inclined than the Con-
vention to admit of it, they nevertheless opposed it, and Dubois de Cranee,
the two Robespierres, Thuriot, and other Mountaineers, were daily heard
declaiming at the Jacobins against the plan of the maximum. Chaumette*
• u P. G. Chaumette, attorney of the commune of Paris, was bom at Nevcra in 1763. His
father was a shoemaker. After having been a cabin-boy, a steersman, a transcriber, and an
attorney's clerk at Paris, he worked under the journalist Prudhomme, who descrii
as a very ignorant fellow. He soon acquired great power in the capital, and in 1793
proposed the formation of a revolutionary tribunal without appeal, and a tax on the rich.
■■"±1-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 95
and Hebert did the same at the commune ; but the tribunes murmured, and
sometimes answered them with hooting*. Deputations of the Kctkmi fre-
quendy came to reproach the commune with its moderation and its eonniv-
ance with the forestalled. It was in tbese assemblies of the sections that the
lowest elasse.s of agitators met; and there reigned a revolutionary fanaticism
still more ignorant and violent tban at die commune and the Jacobins. Con-
jointly with tbe Cordeliers, whither all the acting men resorted, the sections
produced all the disturbances of the capital. Their inferiority and their
obscurity, by exposing them to more agitations, exposed them also to under-
hand manoeuvres in a contrary spirit ; and there the remnants of the aristo-
cracy dared to show themselves, and to make some attempts at resistance.
The former creatures of the nobility, the late servants of the emigrants, all
die turbulent idlers, who between the two opposite causes had preferred the
cause of the aristocracy, repaired to some of the sections, where the honest
citizens persevered in favour of the Girondins, and concealed themselves
behind this judicious and rational opposition, for the purpose of attacking the
Mountaineers, and labouring in favour of foreigners and of the old system.
In these con diets the honest citizens most frequently withdrew. The two
extreme classes of agitators were thus left in battle array, and they fought in
this lower region with terrific violence. Horrid scenes were daily occurring,
on occasion of petitions proposed to be addressed to the commune, the
Jacobins, or the Assembly From these tempests sprang, according to the
result of the conflict, either addresses against September and the maximum,
or addresses against these addressers, the aristocrats, and the forestallers.
The commune reproved the inflammatory petitions of the sections, and
exhorted them to beware of secret agitators, who were striving to produce
dissensions among them. It acted the same part in regard to the sections,
as the Convention acted in regard to itself. The Jacobins, not having, like
the commune, specific functions to exercise, occupied themselves in discuss-
ing all sorts of subjects, had great phdosophical pretensions, and laid claim
to a better comprehension of social economy than the sections and the club
of the Cordeliers. They affected, therefore, in many instances, not to share
die vulgar passions of those subaltern assemblies, and condemned the fixed
standard as dangerous to the freedom of trade. But, substituting another
expedient for that which they rejected, they had proposed to cause assignats
to be taken at par, and to punish with death any one who should refuse to
take them at the value which they purported to bear ; as if this had not been
another manner of attacking the freedom of trade. They also proposed to
bind themselves reciprocally to desist from using sugar and coffee, in order
to produce a forced reduction in the prices of those commodities ; and, lastly,
they suggested the expediency of putting a stop to the creation of assignats,
and supplying their place by loans from the rich ; — forced loans, assessed
according to the number of servants, horses, &c. All these propositions did
not prevent the evil from increasing, and rendering a crisis inevitable. Mean-
while, they mutually reproached one another with the public calamities.
The Girondins were accused of acting in concert with the rich and with the
At the same time, he contrived the Festivals of Reason, and the orgies and profanations
which polluted all the churches in Paris, and even proposed that a moving guillotine mounted
on four wheels, should follow the revolutionary army 'to shed blood in profusion!' Chau-
mette also proposed the cessation of public worship, and the equality of funerals; and pro-
cured an order for the demolition of all monuments of religion and royalty. He was executed,
by order of Robespierre, in 1794, twenty days after Hebert, to whose party he had attached
himself.'' — Biographic Moderne. E.
96 HISTORY OF THE
forestallers, for the purpose of famishing the people, driving them to insur-
rection, and thence deriving a pretext for enacting new martial laws ; they
were accused also of an intention to bring in foreigners by means of the dis-
turbances-—an absurd charge, but which proved a mortal one. The Gjran-
dins replied by the like accusations. They reproached their adversaries
with causing the dearth and the commotions by the alarms which they
excited in commerce, and with a design to arrive by these commotions at
anarchy, by anarchy at power, and perhaps at foreign domination.
The end of February was at hand, and the difficulty of procuring the
necessaries of life had raised the irritation of the people to the highest pitch.
The women, apparently more deeply touched by this kind of suffering, were
in extreme agitation. They repaired, on the 22d, to the Jacobins, soliciting
the use of their hall, that they might there deliberate on the high price of the
articles of consumption, and prepare a petition to the National Convention.
It was well known that the object of this petition was to propose the max-
imum, and the application was refused. The tribunes then treated the
Jacobins as they had sometimes treated the Assembly. Down with the
forestallers! down with the rich! was the general cry. The president was
obliged to put on his hat to appease the tumult, and, to account for this want
of respect, it was alleged that there had been disguised aristocrats in the hall.
Robespierre and Dubois de C ranee inveighed anew against the plan of a
maximum, and recommended to the people to keep quiet, that they might
not furnish their adversaries with a pretext for calumniating them, and give
them occasion for enacting sanguinary laws.
Marat, who pretended to devise the simplest and most expeditious reme-
dies for all evils, declared in his paper of the 25th that forestalling would
never cease, unless more efficient measures than all those which had been
hitherto proposed, were resorted to. Inveighing against monopolists, the
dealers in luxuries, the agents of chicanery, the limbs of the lair, tht
nobles, whom the unfaithful representatives of the people encouraged in
crime by impunity, he added, " In every country where the rights of the
people are not empty titles, ostentatiously recorded in a mere declaration,
the plunder of a few shops, and the hanging of the forestallers at their doors,
would soon put a stop to these malversations which are driving five millions
of men to despair, and causing thousands to perish for want. Will then the
deputies of the people never do anything but chatter about their distresses,
without proposing any remedy for them .' "'
It was on the morning of the 25th that this presumptuous madman pub-
lished these words. Whether they really had an influence on the people,
or whether the irritation, excited to the highest pitch, could no longer restrain
itself, a multitude of women assembled tumultously about the groi
shops. At first they complained of the prices of articles, and loudly cla-
moured for their reduction. The commune was not apprized of the circum-
stance : Santerre, the commandant, was gone to Versailles to organize a
corps of cavalry, and no order was issued for calling out the public force.
Thus the rioters met with no obstacle, and soon proceeded from threat!
acts of violence and pillage. The mob first collected in the streets of die
Vieillc-Monnaie, of the Cinq-Diamans, and of the Lombards. It began
with insisting that the prices of all articles should be reduced one-half;
soap to sixteen sous, lump-su<rar to twenty-five, moist sugar to fifteen, can-
dles to thirteen. Cheat quantities of goods were forcibly taken at this rate,
* Journal de la Republique, Feb. 25, 1793.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 97
and the price was paid by the buyers to the shop-keepers. But presenUy
thi' rabble refiwed i<> pay at all, and carried oil" the goods without giving
anything whatever for them. The armed force, coming up at one point,
was repulsed, amidst shouts from all sides of Down with the bayonet* !
The Convention, the commune, the Jacobins had alt met. The Assembly
wai listening' to a report on this subject; the minister of the interior was
denoasCrating to it that commodities were abundant in Paris, but that the
evil proceeded from the disproportion between the value of the circulating
medium and that of the commodities themselves. The Assembly, with a
view to parry the difficulties of the moment, had immediately assigned
funds to the commune, for the purpose of retailing necessaries at a low price.
At the same instant, the commune, participating in its sentiments and its
zeal, had directed a report of the circumstances to be made, and ordered
measures of police. At every new fact that was reported to it, the tribunes
shouted, So much the better ! At every remedy that was proposed, they
cried Down ! Doicn .' Chaumette and Hebert* were hooted for proposing
to beat the zenn-ale, and to require the armed force. It was nevertheless
resolved that two strong patroles, preceded by two municipal officers, should
be sent to restore order, and that twenty-seven more municipal officers
should go and make proclamations in the sections.
The tumult had spread. The mob was plundering in different streets,
and it was even proposed to go from the grocers to other shopkeepers.
Meanwhile, men of all parties seized the occasion to reproach one another
for this not, and the evils which had caused it. " When you had a king,"
said the partisans of the abolished system, in the streets, "you were not
obliged to pay such high prices for things, neither were you liable to be
plundered." — " You see," cried the partisans of the Girondins, " whither
the system of violence and the impunity of revolutionary excesses will
lead us !"
The Mountaineers were exceedingly mortified, and asserted that it was
disguised aristocrats, Fayettists, Rolandins, Brissotins, mingled among the
rabble, who excited it to pillage. They declared that they had found in the
mob women of high rank, men wearing powder, servants of high person-
ages, who were distributing assignats to induce the people to enter the
shops. At length, after the lapse of several hours, the armed force was
* " J. R Hebert, born at Alcncon, was naturally of an active disposition and an ardent
imagination, but wholly without information. Before the Revolution, he lived in Paris by
intrigue and imposture. Being employed at the theatre of the Varietes as receiver of the
checks, he was dismissed for dishonesty, and retired to the house of a physician whom he
robbed. In 1789 he embraced with ardour the popular party, and soon made himself known
by a journal entitled 'Father Duchesne,' which had the greatest success among the people
on account of the violence of its principles. On the 10th of August Hebert became one of
the members of the insurrectional municipality, and afterwards, in September, contributed to
the prison massacres. He was one of the first to preach atheism, and organize the Festivals
of Reason. His popularity, however, was brief, for he was brought to the scaffold, together
with his wht>le faction, by Robespierre, in 1794. He died with the greatest marks of weak-
ness, and fainted several times on his road to execution. On all sides he heard, ' Father
Duchesne is very uneasy, and will be very angry when Samson (the executioner) makes him
tipsy.' A young man, whose entire family he had destroyed, called out to him, ' To-day is
the great anger of Father Duchesne !' On the occasion of the Queen's trial, Hebert cast
an imputation on her, of so atrocious and extravagant a nature, that even Robespierre was
disgusted with it, and exclaimed, ' Madman ! was it not enough for him to have asserted
that she was a Messalina, without also making an Agrippina of her V Hebert married a
nun, who was guillotined with Chaumette and the rest of the faction of the commune." —
Biographic Moderru. E.
VOL. II. — 13 I
98 HISTORY OF THE
collected ; Santerre returned from Versailles ; the requisite orders were
issued ; the battalion of Brest, ihen in Paris, deployed with great zeal and
confidence, and the rioters were finally dispersed.
In the evening, a warm discussion took place at the Jacobins. These dis-
orders were deplored, in spite of the shouts of the tribunes and the expres-
sions of their dissatisfaction. Collot-d'Herbois, Thuriot, and Robespierre,
were unanimous in recommending tranquillity, and in throwing the blame
of the tumult on the aristocrats and the Girondins. Robespierre made a
long speech on this subject, in which he maintained that the populace
impeccable, that it was never in the wrong, and that, if it were not misled,
it would never commit any fault. He declared that, among those groups of
plunderers, there were people who lamented the death of the Kincr, and
warmly praised the right side of the Assembly; that he had heard this him-
self, and that consequently there could not be any doubt respecting the real
instigators who had led the people astray. Marat himself came to recom-
mend good order, to condemn the pillage, which he had preached up that
very morning in his paper, and to impute it to the Girondins and the
royalists.
Next day, the A'ssembly rang with the accustomed and ever useless com-
plaints. Barrere inveighed forcibly against the crimes of the preceding dav.
He remarked upon the tardiness of the authorities to act in quelling the dis-
turbance. The plunder had in fact begun at ten in the morning, and at five
in the afternoon the armed force had not yet assembled. Barrere prop
that the mayor and the commandant-general should be summoned to explain
the causes of this delay. A deputation of the section of Bon-Consei!
conded this motion. Salles then spoke. He proposed an act of accusation
against the instigator of the pillage, Marat, and read the article inserted id
his paper of the preceding day. Frequent motions had been made for n
accusation against the instigators of disturbance, and particularly against
Marat ; there could not be a more favourable occasion for prosecuting them,
for never had disturbance so speedily followed the provocation. Marat, not
at all disconcerted, declared in the tribune that it was but natural that the
people should do itself justice upon the forestalled, since the laws wen
inadequate, and that those who proposed to accuse him ought to be sent to the
Petites-Maisons. Buzot moved the order of the day on the proposition to
accuse Monsieur Marat. " The law is precise," said he, " but Monsieur
Marat quibbles about its expressions ; the jury will be embarrassed, and it
will not be right to prepare a triumph for Monsieur Marat, before the face
of justice herself." A member desired that the Convention should declare
to the republic that " yesterday morning Marat exhorted to plunder, and that
yesterday afternoon plunder was committed." Numerous propositions suc-
ceeded. At length it was resolved to send all the authors of the disturb;!
without distinction before the ordinary tribunals. " Well, then !" exclaimed
Marat, " pass an act of accusation against myself, that the Convention may
prove that it has lost all shame." At these words, a great tumult ensued;
The Convention immediately sent Marat and all the authors of the misde-
meanors committed on the 25th before the tribunals. Barrere's motion *
adopted. Santerre and Paehe were summoned to the bar. Fresh measures
were taken against the supposed agents of foreigners and the emigrants. At
the moment, this notion of a foreign influence was universally accredited.
On the preceding day, new domiciliary visits had been ordered throughout
all France, for the purpose of apprehending emigrants and suspicious travel-
lers. This same day the obligation to obtain passports was renewed ; all
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 9fi
keepers of taverns and lodging-houses were required to give an account of
every foreigner lodging with them ; and, lasdy, a new list of all the citizens
of the sections was ordered.
.Marat was at length to be accused, and on the following day his paper
contained this passage :
" [ndignant at seeing die enemies of the public weal engaged in everlast-
ing machinations against the people; disgusted at seeing forestalled of all
sorts, uniting to drive the people to despair by distress and famine ; mortified
at seeing that the measures taken by the Convention for preventing these
conspiracies have not accomplished the object ; grieved at the complaints of
the unfortunate creatures who daily come to ask me for bread, at the same
time accusing the Convention of suffering them to perish by want; I take
up the pen for the purpose of suggesting the best means of at length putting
a stop to the conspiracies of the public enemies, and to the sufferings of the
people. The simplest ideas are those which first present themselves to a
well-constituted mind, which is anxious solely for the general happiness,
without any reference to itself. I ask myself, then, why we do not turn
against the public robbers those means which they employ to ruin the people
and to destroy liberty. In consequence, I observe that, in every country
where the rights of the people are not empty titles, ostentatiously recorded
in a mere declaration, the plunder of a few shops, and the hanging of the
forestalled at their own doors would soon put a stop to their malversations !
What do the leaders of the faction of statesmen do ? They eagerly pounce
upon this expression ; they then lose no time in sending emissaries among
the mob of women collected before the bakers' shops, to urge them to take
away at a certain price soap, candles, and sugar, from the shops of thp retail
grocers, while these emissaries themselves plunder the shops of the poor
patriot grocers. These villains then keep silence the whole day. They
concert measures at night at a clandestine meeting held at the house of the
strumpet of the counter-revolutionary Valaze,* and then come the next day
to denounce me in the tribune as the instigator of the excesses of which they
are themselves the primary authors."
The quarrel became daily more and more violent. The parties openly
threatened one another. Many of the deputies never went abroad without
arms ; and people began to say, with the same freedom as in the month of
July and August in the preceding year, that they must save themselves by
insurrection, and cut out the mortified part of the national representation.
The Girondins met in the evening, in considerable number, at the residence
of one of them, Valaze, and there they were quite undecided what course to
pursue. Some believed, others disbelieved, in approaching dangers. Cer-
tain of them, as Salles and Louvet, supposed imaginary conspiracies, and,
by directing attention to chimeras, diverted it from the real danger. Roving
from project to project, placed in the heart of Paris, without any force at
their disposal, and reckoning only upon the opinion of the departments,
immense, it is true, but inert, they were liable to be swept off every day by
a coup de main. They had not succeeded in forming a departmental force;
the bodies of federalists, which had come spontaneously to Paris since die
• "C. E. Dufriche Valaze\ a lawyer, was born at Alencon in 1751 ; he first followed the
military career, and then went to the bar. At the period of the Revolution he embraced
the cause of the people, and early attached himself to the party of the Gironde. He was con-
demned to death in 1793, but stabbed himself as soon as he had heard his sentence ; his body
nevertheless was carried in a cart to the foot of the scaffold. At his death Valaze was forty-
two years of age. He was the author of several works." — Biographic Moderne. E.
100 HISTORY OF THE
meeting of the Convention, were partly gained and had partly gone to the
armies ; and they had nothing to rely upon but four hundred men of Brest,
whose firm bearing had put a stop to the pillage. For want of a depart-
mental guard, they had in vain endeavoured to transfer the* direction of the
public force from the commune to the ministry of the interior. The Moun-
tain, furious at this proposition, had intimidated the majority, and prevented
it from voting such a measure. They could already reckon upon no more
than eighty deputies, inaccessible to fear, and firm in their deliberations.
In this state of things, the Girondins had but one expedient left, as im-
practicable as all the others, that of dissolving the Convention. Here again
the violence of the Mountain prevented them from obtaining a majority. In
their indecision, arising not from imbecility but want of strength, they
reposed upon the constitution. From the need to hope for something, they
flattered themselves that the yoke of the law would restrain the passions,
and put an end to all dissensions. Speculative minds were particularly fond
of dwelling upon this idea. Condorcet had read his report, in the name of
the committee of constitution, and had excited a general sensation. Con-
dorcet, Petion, and Sieyes, had been loaded with imprecations at the Jaco-
bins. Their republic had been regarded as an aristocracy ready made for
certain lofty and overbearing talents. Accordingly, the Mountaineers op-
posed its being taken into consideration ; and many members of the Con-
vention, already sensible that their occupation would be not to constitute but
to defend the Revolution, boldly declared that they ought to defer the discus-
sion relative to the constitution till the next year, and for the moment think
of nothing but governing and fighting. Thus the long reign of that stormy
assembly began to announce itself. It ceased already to believe in the
briefness of its legislative mission, and the Girondins saw themselves
forsaken by their last hope, that of speedily controlling the factions by the
laws.
Their adversaries were, on their part, not less embarrassed than them-
selves. They certainly had the violent passions in their favour ; they had
the Jacobins, the communes, and the majority of the sections ; but they
possessed none of the ministers. They dreaded the departments, where
the two opinions were struggling with extreme fury, and where their own
had an evident disadvantage ; lastly, they dreaded the foreign powers ; and
though the ordinary laws of revolutions insure victory to the violent passions,
yet these laws, being unknown to, could not cheer them. Their plans were
as vague as those of their adversaries. To attack the national representa-
tion was a course not less difficult than bold, and they had not yet accus-
tomed themselves to this idea. There were certainly some thirty agitators
who were bold enough to propose anything in the sections ; but these plans
were disapproved by the Jacobins, by the commune, by the Mountaineers,
who, daily accused of conspiring and daily justifying themselves, felt that
propositions of this kind compromised them in the eyes of their adversaries
and of the departments. Danton, who had taken but little share in the quar-
rels of the parties, was anxious only about two things: to secure himself
from all prosecution on account of his revolutionary acts, and to prevent the
Revolution from retrograding and sinking beneath the blows of the enemy.
Marat himself, so reckless and so atrocious, when the question was con
cerning means — Marat hesitated ; and Robespierre, notwithstanding his
hatred of the Girondins, of Brissot, Roland, Gaudet, Vergniaud, durst no'
think of an attack upon the national representation ; he knew not what
pedient to adopt ; he was (,:«eouraged ; he doubted the salvation of the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 101
Revolution, and told Garat that he was tired, sick of it, and that he verily
believed people were plotting the ruin of all the defenders of the republic.
While the two parties were struggling with violence at Marseilles, at
LjOOB, and at Bordeaux, the proposition to get rid of the appellants, and to
(j.vt thorn from the Convention, proceeded from the Jacobins of Marseilles,
in conflict with the partisans of the Girondins. This proposition, transferred
to the Jacobins of Paris, was discussed there. Desfieux maintained that
this measure was supported by affiliated societies enough to be converted
into a petition, and presented to the National Convention. Robespierre,
fearing that such a demand might lead to the entire renewal of the Assembly,
and that in the contest of elections the party of the Mountain might be beaten,
strongly opposed it, and finally caused it to be rejected, for the reasons
usually advanced against all plans of dissolution.
Our military reverses now came to accelerate the progress of events. We
left Dumouriez encamped on the shore of the Bielbos, and preparing for a<
hazardous, but practicable, landing in Holland. While he was making
arrangements for his expedition, two hundred and sixty thousand combat-
ants were marching against France, between the Upper Rhine and Holland.
Fifty-six thousand Prussians, twenty-five thousand Hessians, Saxons, and
Bavarians, threatened the Rhine from Basle to Mayence and Coblentz.
From this point to the Meuse, thirty thousand men occupied Luxemburg.
Sixty thousand Austrians and ten thousand Prussians were marching towards
our quarters on the Meuse, to raise the sieges of Maestricht and Venloo.
Lastly, forty thousand English, Hanoverians, and Dutch, who were still
behindhand, were advancing from the extremity of Holland upon our line of
operation.
The plan of the enemy was to bring us back from Holland upon the
Scheldt, to compel us torecross the Meuse, and then to wait upon that river
till the fortress of Mayence should be retaken. His intention was to march
on thus by little and little, to advance equally upon all the points at once,
and not penetrate rapidly upon any, that he might not expose his flanks.
This cautious and methodical plan would not have allowed us to push the
offensive enterprize against Holland much farther and more actively, had
not blunders, or unlucky accidents, or too great precipitation in taking alarm,
obliged us to relinquish it. The Prince of Coburg,* who had distinguished
himself in the last campaign against thcTTurks, commanded the Austrians,
who were advancing towards the Meuse. Disorder prevailed in our quarters,
which were dispersed between Maestricht, Aix-la-Chapelle, Liege, and Ton-
gres. Early in March the Prince of Coburg crossed the Roer, and advanced
by Duren and Aldenhoven upon Aix-la-Chapelle. Our troops suddenly
attacked, retreated in disorder towards Aix-la-Chapelle, and abandoned even
the gates to the enemy. Miaczinsky resisted for some time, but, after a
very sanguinary combat in the streets of the town, he was obliged to give
way, and to retire in disorder towards Liege. At the same time, Stengel
and Ncuiily, separated by this movement, were driven back upon Limburg.
Miranda, who was besieging Maestricht, and who was also liable to be cut
• " Frederick Josias, Duke of Saxe-Coburg, an Austrian field-marshal, was born in 1737.
Tn 1788 he took Choczim, and in connexion with the Russian general, Suwaroff, defeated the
Turks at Focsani in 1789, and conquered Bucharest. In 1793 he commanded against the
French ; was victorious at Aldenhoven nnd Neerw inden ; and took Valenciennes, and several
other town* ; but when the Duke of York separated himself from the Austrians in order to
Dunkirk. Coburg was beaten at Maubeuge, Clairfayt at Tournay, and the English
at Dunkirk. The prince in consequence retreated over the Uhine, and gave up his command.
He died in his native city in 1815." — Encyclopxdia Americana. E.
12
102 HISTORY OF THE
off from the main body of the army, which had retired to Liege, even quitted
the left bank, and retreated upon Tongres. The imperialists immediately
entered Maestricht, and the Archduke Charles,* boldly pushing on in pursuit
beyond the Meuse, proceeded to Tongres, and there obtained an advantage.
Valence, Dampierre, and Miaczinsky, uniting at Liege, then conceived that
they ought to make haste to rejoin Miranda; and marched upon St. Trond,
whither Miranda, on his side, was directing his course. The retreat was so
precipitate, that great part of the materiel was lost. However, after great
dangers, they effected their junction at St. Trond. Lamarliere and Champ-
morin, posted at Ruremonde, had time to repair by Dietz to the same point.
Stengel and Neuilly, completely cut off from the army and driven bark
towards Limberg, were picked up at Namur by the division of General
d'Harville. At length our troops having rallied at Tirlemont, recovered
some degree of composure and confidence, and awaited the arrival of
Dumouriez, who was loudly called for.
No sooner was he apprized of this first discomfiture, than he ordered
Miranda to rally all his force at Maestricht, and quietly to continue the siege
with seventy thousand men. He was persuaded that the Austrians would
not dare to give battle, and that the invasion of Holland would soon brinsr
the allies upon his rear. This notion was correct, and founded upon this
true idea, that in case of a reciprocal offensive, the victory remains with hiiu
who can contrive to wait the longest. The very timid plan of the Imperial-
ists, who would not break out upon any point, rendered this notion still more
reasonable ; but the negligence of the generals, who had not concentrated
themselves early enough, their confusion after the attack, the impossibility
of rallying in presence of the enemy, and above all, the absence of a man
superior in authority and influence, rendered the execution of the order given
by Dumouriez impracticable. Letters after letters were therefore despatched
to him, urging his return from Holland. The terror had become general.
More than ten thousand deserters had already quitted the army, and were
spreading themselves towards the interior. The commissioners of the Con-
vention hastened to Paris, and caused an order to be sent to Dumouriez to
leave to another the expedition attempted upon Holland, and to return with
all possible speed to put himself at the head of the grand army of the Meuse.
This order he received on the 8th, and he set out on the 9th, mortified to
see all his projects overthrown. He returned, more disposed than ever to
censure the revolutionary system introduced into Belgium, and to quarrel
* " Charles Louis, Archduke of Austria, son of Leopold IT., and brother of the late Em-
peror Francis, was horn in 1771. He commenced his military career in 1793, commanded
the vanguard of the Prince of Coburg, and distinguished himself by his talent and bravery.
In 1796 he was made field-marshal of the German empire, and took the chief command of
the Austrian army on the Rhine. He fought several successful battles against the French
Generals Moreau and Jourdan, and forced them to retreat over tho Rhine. After the battle
<>f Hohcnlinden, when tho French entered Austria, the archduke, who had previously retired
from service by reason of ill-health was again placed at the head of the troops, but was com-
pelled at length to make peace at Luneville. In 1805 he commanded an Austrian army in
Italy against Massena, over whom he gained a victory at Caldiero. In 1809 he advanced into
Bavaria, where he was opposed by the whole French army commanded by Napoleon ; a hard-
fjught and bloody battle, which lasted live days, ensued, and the Austrians were compelled
to retreat. In the MOM year, the archduke gained a victory at Aspern, opposite to Vienna,
and compelled the Franca to retreat across the Danube with great loss. At the memorable
battle of Wagram, he was wounded, and compelled to give way, after a contest of two day*.
Soon after this, the archduke resigned tho command of the army. In 1815 he married the
Frince>s Henrietta of Nassau- Weilburg. He is the author of two able works on military
matters.'' — Eaeyclopsalia Americana. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 103
-with the Jacobins on account of the ill success of his plans of campaign. He
found in reality abundant matter both for complaint and censure. The agents
of the executive power in Belgium exercised a despotic and vexatious author-
ity. They had everywhere excited the populace, and frequenUy employed
violence in the assemblies where the union with France was discussed. They
had seized the plate of the churches, sequestrated the revenues of the clergy,
confiscated the estates of the nobility, and kindled the strongest indignation
in all classes of the Belgian people. Already an insurrection against the
French had begun to break forth towards Grammont.
It needed not circumstances so serious to dispose Dumouricz to treat the
commissioners of the government with severity. He began with ordering
them to be arrested, and sending them under an escort to Paris. He talked
to the others in the most peremptory tone, compelled them to confine them-
selves to their functions, forbade them to interfere in the military arrange-
ments of the generals, or to give any orders to troops within their district.
He removed General Moreton, who had made common cause with them.
He shut up the clubs, caused part of the articles taken from the churches to be
restored to the Belgians, and accompanied these measures with a proclamation,
disavowing, in the name of France, the vexations which had been corfTmitted.
He called the perpetrators brigands, and exercised a dictatorship, which, while
it attached Belgium to him, and rendered the occupation of the country more
' secure to the French army, raised to the highest pitch the wrath of the Jaco-
bins. He had actually a very warm discussion with Camus, expressed him-
self contemptuously respecting the government of the moment ; and, forget-
ting the fate of Lafayette, and relying too implicitly on military power, he
conducted himself as general, certain that he could, if he pleased, check the
progress of the Revolution, and well disposed to do so, if he should be push-
ed to extremity. The same spirit was communicated to his staff. The offi-
cers spoke with disdain of the populace which ruled Paris, and of the imbe-
cile conventionalists, who suffered themselves to be oppressed by it : all who
were suspected of Jacobinism were maltreated and removed ; and the soldiers,
overjoyed at seeing their general again among them, affected, in the presence
of the commissioners of the Convention, to stop his horse, and to kiss his
boots, at the same time calling him their father.
These tidings excited the greatest tumult in Paris, and provoked fresh
outcries against traitors and counter-revolutionists. Choudieu, the deputy,
immediately took advantage of them to demand, as had frequently been done,
that the federalists still in Paris should be sent off. Whenever unfavourable
intelligence arrived from the armies, this demand was sure to be repeated.
Barbaroux wished to speak on this subject, but his presence excited a com-
motion hitherto unexampled. Buzot attempted in vain to pay a tribute to
the firmness of the men of Brest during the riot. Boyer-Fonfrcde merely
obtained, by a sort of compromise, the concession that the federalists of the
maritime departments should go to complete the army of the coasts of the
Ocean which was still. too weak. The others were allowed to remain in
Paris.
Next day, March the 9th, the Convention ordered all the officers to rejoin
their corps forthwith. Danton proposed to furnish the Parisians once more
with an occasion to save France. " Ask them for thirty thousand men,"
said he, *• send them to Dumouriez; Belgium will be secured to us and Hol-
land conquered." Thirty thousand men were, in fact, not difficult to he
found in Paris; they would be a powerful reinforcement to the army of the
North, and give new importance to the capital. Danton moreover proposed
10 4 HISTORY OF THE
to send commissioners of the Convention to the departments and to the sec-
tions, in order to accelerate the recruiting by all possible means. All these
motions were adopted. The sections had orders to meet in the evening ;
commissioners were appointed to repair to tbem ; the theatres were closed
that the public attention might not be diverted, and the black (lag was hoist-
ed at the Hotel de Ville as a sign of distress.
The meeting accordingly took place in the evening. The commissioners
were most favourably received in the sections. Men's imaginations were
excited, and the proposal to repair immediately to the armies was cheerfully
acceded to. But the same thing happened on this occasion as on the 2d and
3d of September. The Parisians insisted that before their departure the
traitors should be punished. Ever since that period, they had an expr
ready made. They did not like, they said, to leave behind them conspira-
tors ready to butcher their families in their absence. It would therefore be
necessary, in order to avoid fresh popular executions, to organize legal and
terrible executions, which should reach, without delay and without appeal,
the counter-revolutionist-', the hidden conspirators, who threatened within
the revolution which was already threatened from without. It would be
necessary to suspend the sword over the heads of generals, of minist .-rs. of
unfaithful deputies, who compromised the public welfare. It was, moreover,
not just that the wealthy egotists, who were not fond of the system of
equality, who cared but little whether they belonged to the Convention or
to Brunswick, and who consequently would not come forward to fill up the
ranks of the army — it was not just that they should remain strangers to the
public cause, and do nothing in its behalf. It would be hut ri<rht, conse-
quently, that all those who possessed an income of more than fifteen hundred
livres should pay a tax proportionate to their means, and sufficient to in-
demnify those who should devote themselves for all the expenses of the
campaign. This twofold wish of a tribunal instituted against the hostile
party, and of a contribution of the rich in favour of the poor who were going
to fight, was almost general in the sections. Several of them went to the
commune to express it ; the Jacobins adopted it on their part, and next day
the Convention was startled by the expression of a universal and irresistible
opinion.
On the following day, March 9th, all the Mountaineer deputies attended
the sitting. The Jacobins filled the tribunes. They had turned all the
women out of them, •' because," as they said, "they should have an expedi-
tion to perform." Several of them carried pistols. Camon, the deputy,
would have complained of this, but could not obtain a hearing. The
tain and the tribunes, firmly resolved, intimidated the majority, and appeared
determined not to admit of any opposition. The mayor entered, with the
council of the commune, confirmed the report of the commissioners of the
Convention respecting the self-devotion of the sections, but repeated their
wish for an extraordinary tribunal and a tax upon the rich. A great number
of sections succeeded the commune, and likewise demanded the tribunal and
the tax. Some added the demand of a law against forestallers, of a uiar-
imum in the price of commodities, and of the abrogation of the decree which
invested merchandise with the character of metallic money, ami permitted it
to circulate at a different price from the paper currency. After al!
petitions, it was insisted that the several measures proposed should be put
to the vote. A motion was made for voting forthwith the principle of the
establishment of an extraordinary tribunal. Some deputies opposed it.
Lanjuinais spoke, and insisted that, if they were absolutely required to sanc-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 105
tion the iniquity of a tribunal without appeal, they ought at least to confine
this calamity to the Bingle department of Paris. Guadet and Valaze made
vain efforts to support Lanjuinais. They were brutally interrupted by the
Mountain. Some deputies even demanded that this tribunal should bear the
name of revolutionary. But the Convention, without permitting further
discussion, decreed the establishment of an extraordinary criminal tribunal
to try, without appeal and without reference to the court of cassation, con-
spirators and counter-revolutionists ; and directed its committee of legislation
to present to it on the following day a plan of organization.
Immediately alter this decree, a second was passed, which imposed an
extraordinary war-tax on the rich ; also, a third, appointing forty-one com-
missions, of two deputies each, authorized to repair to the departments to
hasten the recruiting by all possible means, to disarm those who should not
go, to cause suspicious persons to be apprehended, to take horses kept for
luxury ; in short, to exercise there the most absolute dictatorship. To these
measures were added others. The exhibitions of the colleges were in future
to be conferred only on the sons of those who should join the armies. AH
bachelors holding situations in the public offices were to be replaced by
fathers of families, and arrest for debt was to be abolished. The right to
make a will had been annulled some days before. All these measures were
adopted at the instigation of Danton, who thoroughly understood the art of
attaching interests to the cause of the Revolution.
The Jacobins, satisfied with this day, hastened to their club to applaud
themselves for the zeal which they had displayed, for the manner in which
they had filled the tribunes, and for the imposing assemblage presented by
the close ranks of the Mountain. They recommended to each other to per-
severe, and to be all present at the sitting of the following day, at which the
extraordinary tribunal was to be organized. Robespierre, said they, had
given | strict injunction to this effect. Still they were not content with what
they had obtained. One of them proposed to draw up a petition, demanding
the renewal of the committees and the administration, the apprehension of
all functionaries at the very moment of their dismissal from office, and that
of all the administrators of the posts, and counter-revolutionary journalists.
It was proposed to draw up the petition on the spot; but the president
objected that the society could not perform any collective act, and it was
therefore agreed to seek some other place for meeting in the character of
mere petitioners. They then spread themselves over Paris. Tumult
reigned in that city. About a hundred persons, the usual promoters of all
the disturbances, headed by Lasouski, had repaired to the office of Gorsas,
the journalist, armed with swords and pistols, and had broken in pieces his
presses. Gorsas had fled ; but he would not have escaped, had he not de-
fended himself with great courage and presence of mind. They had paid a
like visit to the publisher of the Chroniquc, and also ravaged his printing
office.
The next day threatened to be still more stormy. It was Sunday. A
dinner was provided at the section of Halle-au-Ble, as an entertainment to
the recruits who were going oft' to the army; the want of occupation of the
populace, together with the excitement of the festivity, might lead to the
projects. The hall of the Convention was as full as on the preceding
day. In the tribunes and at the Mountain the ranks were equally close, and
equally threatening. The discussion opened upon various matters of detail.
A letter from Dumouriez was then taken into consideration. Robespierre
supported the propositions of the general, and insisted that Lanoue and
VOL. ii. — 14
106 HISTORY OF THE
Stengel, both commanding in the advanced guard at the time of the late rout,
should be placed under accusation. The accusation was immediately
decreed. The next business brought forward, was the despatch of the depu-
ties who were to be tbe commissioners for the recruiting. Their votes,
however, being required for insuring the establishment of the extraordinary
tribunal, it was resolved that it should be organized in the course of the day,
and that the commissioners should be sentolf on the morrow. Cambaceres*
immediately moved for the organization both of the extraordinary tribunal
and of the ministry. Buzot then rushed to the tribune, but was interrupted
by violent murmurs. "These murmurs," he exclaimed, "teach me what I
already knew, that there is courage in opposing the despotism which is pre-
paring for us." Renewed murmurs arose. He continued : " I give you up
my life, but I am determined to rescue my memory from dishonour by op-
posing the despotism of the National Convention. People desire that you
should combine in your hands all the powers." — "You ought to act, not
prate," exclaimed a voice. "You are right," replied Buzot; "the public
writers of the monarchy also said that it was necessary to act, and that con-
sequently the despotic government of one was better " A fresh noise
was raised. Confusion prevailed in the Assembly. At length it was agreed
to adjourn the organization of the ministry, and to attend for the moment to
the extraordinary tribunal alone. The report of the committee was asked
for. That report was not yet ready, and the sketch which had been agreed
upon was demanded in its stead. It was read by Robert Lindct, who at the
same time deplored its severity. The provisions proposed by him, in a tone
of the deepest sorrow, were these : The tribunal shall consist of nine judges,
appointed by the Convention, independent of all forms, acquiring conviction
by any means, divided into two ever-permanent sections, prosecuting by
desire of the Convention, or directly, those who, by their conduct or the
manifestation of their opinions, shall have endeavoured to mislead the people,
those who, by the places which they held under the old government, remind
us of the prerogatives usurped by the despots.
* "Jean Jacques Regis Cambaceres was born in 1753, at Montpellier, of an ancient family
of lawyers. At the commencement of the Revolution, he received several public offices, and
in 1792 became a memt>er of the Convention. In 1793 he declared Louis XVI. guilty, but
disputed the right of the Convention to judge him, and voted for his provisory arrest, and in
case of a hostile invasion, for his death. As a member of the committee of public safety,
Cambaceres reported the treason of Dumouriez. After the fall of the Terrorists, he entered
into the council of Five Hundred, where he presented a new plan for a civil code, which
became subsequently the foundation of the Code Napoleon. On the 18th Brumaire, he was
chosen second consul, and after Bonaparte had ascended the throne, was appointed arch-
chancellor of the empire. In 1808 he was created Duke of l'arma. On the approach of the
Allies in 1814, he followed the government, whence he sent his consent to the emperor's
abdication. On the return of IS'apoleon, in the following year, he was made president of the
House of Peers, and on the emperor's second downfall, was banished, and went to live at
Brussels. In 1818 the King permitted him to return to Paris, where he lived afterward* as
a private individual, and died in .1824." — Encydopiedia Americana. E.
The Consul Cambaceres received company every Tuesday and Saturday, and no other
house in Paris could stand a comparison with his hotel. He was a consummate epicure. In 1
great conversational powers, and the incidents of his narratives acquired novelty and grace
from the turn of his language. I may be allowed to call him an honest man, for. looking
round on all his equals in power, 1 have never found one of such absolute ijood faith ami
probity. His figure was extraordinarily ugly, as well as unique. The slow and regular step,
the measured cadence of accentuation, the very look, which was three times as long as
another's to arrive at its object: — all was in admirahle keeping with the long person. long
nose, long chin, and the yellow skin, which betrayed not the smallest symptoms that any
matter inclining to sanguine circulated beneath its cellular texture. The same consistency
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 107
On the reading of this horrible project, applauses burst forth on the left,
and a violent limitation ensued on the right. " Better die," exclaim,
gniaud, "than COMmit 10 the establishment of this Venetian inquisition !"—
•'The people," replied Amar, "must have either this measure of salvation
or insurrection." — '• My attachment to the revolutionary power," said ( am-
lion, •• is sufficiently known ; hut if the people have made a wrong choice in
the elections, we too might make a wrong choice in the appointment of
these nine judges, and then they would be insupportable tyrants whom
we should have set up over ourselves !" — u This tribunal," exclaimed
Ihihcra, vis still too good for villains and counter-revolutionists!" The
tumult continued, and time was wasted in threats, abuse, and all sorts
i>t' cries. " We will have it so," shouted some. "We will not have it
so," replied others, Barrere demanded juries, and forcibly insisted on
the necessity for them. Turreau moved that they should be selected from
Peris, Boyer-Fonfrede from the whole extent of the republic, because the
new tribunal would have to judge of crimes committed in the departments,
in the armies, and everywhere. The day was far advanced, and night
alreadv coming on. Gensonn£, the president, gave a summary of the dif-
ferent propositions, and was preparing to put them to the vote. The Assembly,
worn out with fatigue, seemed ready to yield to so much violence. The
members of the Plain began to retire, and the Mountain, in order to complete
the work of intimidation, insisted that the votes should be given viva voce.
••\cs," cried Feraud* indignantly, " yes, let us vote viva voce, to make
known to the world the men who Avant to murder innocence under the
shadow of the law !" This vehement apostrophe rallied the right side and
the centre, and, contrary to all appearance, the majority declared: 1. There
pervaded his dress; and when demurely promenading the galleries of the Palais Royal, then
the Palais Egalite, the singular cut and colour of his embroidered coat; his ruflles. at that
tin»e so uncommon ; his short breeches, silk stockings, shoes polished with English blacking,
and fastened with gold buckles, his old-fashioned wig and queue, and his well-appointed and
well-placed three-cornered hat, produced altogether a most fantastic effect. The members
of his household, by their peculiarities of dress, served as accessories to the picture. Cam*
haon's went every evening to the theatre, and afterwards seldom failed to make his appear-
ance with his suite, all in full costume, either in the gardens of the Tuileries, or of the Palais
Egalite, where everything around exhibited the most ludicrous contrast to this strange group."
— Duchess d'A bra ntes, E .
" Cambaceres, who was an inveterate epicure, did not !>elieve it possible that a good
government could exist without good dinners; and his glory (for every man has his own
particular hobby) was to know that the luxuries of his table were, the subject of eulogy
throughout Paris, and even Europe. A banquet which commanded general suffrage was to
him a Marengo." — Botirrienne. E.
* " Feraud, deputy to the Convention, voted for the death of Louis XVI. ; and when the
commune of Paris desired that the Giromiins should be tried, he proposed declaring that they
had not forfeited the confidence of the Assembly. These sentiments would have involved
him in their ruin, had he not been saved by a mission to the army of the Western Pyrenees,
where he received a wound in charging at the head of the columns. Being returned again
to the Convention, he became a partisan of liarras, and assisted him in turning the armed
force against Robespierre and his faction. When the revolt happened in 1795, he showed
urage than any of the other deputies, in opposing the Terrorists at the moment when
they forced the entrance of the half; but he became the victim of his valour, for after having
been abused by the crowd, he received a pistol-shot in his breast, at the lime whep he wai
endeavouring to repulse several men who were making towards the president. His body
was immediately seized and dragged into an adjoining passage, where his head was cut of!*,
the lop of a pike, and brought into the hall to the president, Hoissy d'Anglas, to
terrify him as well as the r.-st of the n Feraud was l>oni in the valley of the
Daure, at the foot of the Pyrenees." — Biographic Moderne. E.
108 HISTORY OF THE
shall be juries ; 2. Those juries shall be taken in equal number in the de-
partments ; 3. They shall be appointed by the Convention.
After the adoption of these three propositions, Gensonne thought it right
to grant an hour's respite to the Assembly, which was overwhelmed with
fatigue. The deputies rose to retire. " I summon the good citizens to keep
their places!" cried Danton. At the sound of that terrible voice, every one
resumed his seat. "What!" he exclaimed, "is it at the moment when
Miranda may be beaten, and Dumouriez, taken in the rear, may be obliged
to lay down his arms, that you think of deserting your post!* It behoves
us to complete the enactment of those extraordinary laws destined to over-
awe your internal enemies. They must be arbitrary, because it is impossible
to render them precise ; because, terrible though they be, they will be pre-
ferable to the popular executions which now, as in September, would be the
consequence of the delay of justice. After this tribunal, you must organize
an energetic executive power, which shall be in immediate contact with you,
and be able to set in motion all your means in men and in money. To-day,
then, the extraordinary tribunal, to-morrow, the executive power, and the
next day the departure of your commissioners for the departments. People
may calumniate me if they please ; but, let my memory perish, so the re-
public be saved."
Notwithstanding this vehement exhortation, an adjournment for an hour
was granted, and the deputies went to take indispensably necessary rest. It
was about seven o'clock in the evening. The idleness of the Sunday, the
dinner given to the recruits, the question discussed in the Assembly, all
tended to increase the popular agitation. Without any plot concerted before-
hand, as the Girondins believed, the mere disposition of people's minds
urged them on to a stirring scene. The Jacobins were assembled. Benta-
bole had hastened thither to make his report of the sitting of the Convention,
and to complain of the patriots, who had not been so energetic on that as on
the preceding day. The general council of the commune was likewise
sitting. The sections, forsaken by the peaceable citizens, were given up to
the influence of furious men, who were passing inflammatory resolutions.
In that of the Quatre-Nations, eighteen frantic persons had decided that
the department of the Seine ought at this moment to exercise the sovereignty,
and that the electoral body of Paris ought immediately to assemble, in order
to clear the National Convention of those unfaithful deputies who were con-
spiring with the enemies of the Revolution. The same resolution had been
adopted at the club of the Cordeliers : and a deputation of the section, and
of the club was proceeding at that moment to communicate it to the com-
mune. According to the usual practice in all commotions, rioters were run-
ning to direct the barriers to be closed.
At this same instant, the cries of an infuriated populace resounded in the
streets. The recruits, who had dined at the Halie-au-Ble, tilled with furv
and wine, armed with pistols and swords, advanced towards the hall of the
Jacobins singing atrocious songs. They arrived there just as Bentabole was
concluding his report on the sitting of the day. On reaching the door, they
demanded permission to file off through the hall. They passed through it
amidst applause. "Citizens," said one of them, addressing the Assembly,
" at the moment when the country is in danger, the conquerors of the 10th
of August are rising to exterminate its enemies abroad and at home." —
" Yes," replied Collot-d'Herbois, the president, " in spite of intriguers, we
• It was not known at this moment that Dumouriez had quitted Holland to return to the
Meusc
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 109
will together with you save liberty." Desfieux then spoke. He said that
Miranda was a creature of Petion, and that iie was betraying the country;
an I that Brissot had caused war to be declared against England in order to
ruin France. " There is but one way left to save ourselves," continued he;
•« that is to get rid of all these traitors, to put all the a/ipellunta under arrest
at their own homes, and let the people elect other deputies in their stead."
A man in military dress, stepping forth from the crowd which had just filed
off, insisted that arrest was not sufficient, and that the people ought to take
vengeance. *« What is inviolability"?" cried he. " I trample it under foot."
... As he uttered these words, Dubois-Crance* arrived and opposed these
propositions. His resistance occasioned a frightful tumult. It was proposed
that they should divide into two columns, one of which should go and fetch
their Cordelier brethren, while the other should proceed to the Convention,
file off through the hall, and intimate to the Assembly all that was required
of it. There was some hesitation in deciding upon the departure, but the
tribunes took possession of the hall, the lights were extinguished, the agita-
tors carried their point, and two corps were formed for the purpose of pro-
ceeding to the Convention and the Cordeliers.
At this moment the wife of Louvet, who had lodgings in the Rue St.
Houore, near the Jacobins, hearing the vociferations which proceeded from
that place, went thither to ascertain what was going forward. Having wit-
nessed this scene, she hastened to apprize Louvett of it. He, with many
other members of the right side, had left the sitting of the Convention,
where it was said they were to be assassinated. Louvet, armed as people
generally went at that time, and favoured by the darkness of night, ran from
house to house to warn his friends, and to desire them to meet in a retired
place, where they might be safe from the attacks of murderers. He found
them at the house of Petion quietly deliberating upon the decrees to be
passed. He strove to communicate to them his alarm, but could not disturb
the equanimity of the unimpassioned Petion, who, looking up at the sky,
and seeing the rain falling, drily observed : " There will be nothing to-night."
A rendezvous was, nevertheless, appointed, and one of the deputies, named
Kervelegan, posted off, at full speed, to the barracks of the Brest battalion
to desire that it might be got under arms. Meanwhile, the ministers, having
no force at their disposal, knew not what means to take for defending the
Convention and themselves, for they too were threatened. The Assembly,
struck with consternation, anticipated a terrible denouement ; and, at every
noise, at every shout, it fancied itself on the point of being stormed by mur-
* " E. L. A. Dubois-Crance entered into the King's musquetcers, and became lieutenant
of the marshals of France. In 1792 he was chosen deputy to the Convention, and on the
King's trial, opposed the appeal to the people, and voted for his death. In the following
year he was chosen president of the Convention, and entered into die committee of public
safety. He contributed to the fall of the Girondins, and afterwards to that of Robespierre and
the Terrorists. In 1799 the Directory raised him to the administration of the war depart-
ment, in the place of Bernadotte. Dubois de Craned- died in 1805 at an estate to which he
had retired." — Biographie Moderne. E.
•j- The following spirited sketch of this distinguished Girondin is from the pen of one who
knew him well : " Louvet is ill-looking, tittle, weakly, short-sighted and slovenly. He seem*
a mere nobody to the generality, who do not observe the dignity of his brow, and the fire
which animates his eyes, at the expression of any great truth. Men of letters are acquainted
with his pretty novels, but politics owe more important obligations to liiin. It is impossible
to have more wit, less affectation, ar.d more simplicity than Lou vet. Courageous as a lion,
simple as a child, a feeling man, a good citizen, a vigorous writer, he in the tribune can
make Catiline tremble; he con dine with the Graces, and sup with BachiumonU" — Ma-
dam: Roland. E.
K
110 HTSTORY OF THE
derers. Forty members only were left on the right side, and fully expected
an attack to be made on their lives. They had arms, and held their pistols
in readiness. They had agreed among themselves to rush upon the Moun-
tain at the first movement, and despatch as many of its members as they
could. The tribunes and the Mountain were in the same attitude, and both
sides looked forward to an awful and sanguinary catastrophe.
But auducity had not yet reached such a pitch as to carry into effect a
10th of August against the Convention. This was but a preliminary scene,
only a 20th of June. The commune durst not favour a movement for
which people's minds were not sufficiently prepared ; nav, it was very sin-
cerely indignant at it. The mayor, when the two deputations of the Cor-
deliers and the Quatre-Nations presented themselves, refused to listen to them.
Complaisant to the Jacobins, he was certainly no friend to the Girondins,
nay, he might perhaps wish for their downfall, but he had reason to regard
a commotion as dangerous. He was, moreover, like Petion on the 20th of
June and the 10th of August, deterred by the illegality, and wanted violence
to be done to him to make him yield. He therefore repulsed the two depu-
tations. Hebert and Chaumette, the procureurs of the commune, supported
him. Orders were sent to keep the barriers open; an address to the sec-
tions was drawn up and another to the Jacobins, to bring them back to order.
Santerre made a most energetic speech to the commune, and inveighed
against those who demanded a new insurrection. He said that, the tyrant
being overthrown, this second insurrection could be directed only against
the people, who at present reigned alone ; that, if there were bad depot
they ought to endure them, as they had endured Maury and Cazales ; that
Paris was not all France, and was obliged to accept the deputies of the de-
partments ; that, as for the minister at war, if he had displaced officers, he
had a right to do so, since he was responsible for his agents. ... As
for Paris, a few silly and mistaken men fancied that they could prjvem, and
wanted to disorganize everything : that finally, he should call out the fore",
and reduce the evil-disposed to order.
Beurnonville, for his part, his hotel being surrounded, got over the wall
of his garden, collected as many people as he could, put himself at the head
of the Brest battalion, and over-awed the agitators. The section of the
Quatre-Nations, the Cordeliers, and the Jacobins, returned to their respective
places. Thus the resistance of the commune, the conduct of Santerre, the
courage of Beurnonville and the men of Brest, perhaps also the heavy rain
that was falling, prevented the insurrection from being pushed any farther.
Moreover, passion was not yet sufficiently strong against all that was most
noble and most generous in the infant republic. Petion, Condorcet, and
Vergniaud, were still destined for some time longer to display in the Con-
vention their courage, their talents, and their overpowering eloquence. Tbi
tumult subsided. The mayor, summoned to the bar of the Convention, as-
sured it that quiet was restored ; and that very night it peaceably eotnpl
the decree which organized the revolutionary tribunal. This tribunal \
to be composed of a jury, five judges, a public accuser, and two assistants,
all appointed by the Convention.* The jurors were to be chosen before the
• ■ The decree of the Convention was in these terms : " There shall be established at
Paris an Extraordinary Criminal Revolutionary Tribunal. It shall take cognizance of
every attempt against liberty, equality, the unity, or indivisibility of the republic, the inter
nal or external security of the state, of all conspiracies tending to the re-establishment of
royalty, or hostile to the sovereignty of the people, whether the accused ore public function
aries, civil or military, or private individuals. The members of the jury shall be chosen by
FRENCH REVOLUTION. Ill
month of May, and it was provided that ad interim they might he selected
from the department of Paris and the four contiguous departments. The
jurors were to signify their opinions viva voce.
The effect of the occurrences of the 10th of March was to <\>itc the
indignation of the members of the right side, and to cause embarrassment to
those of the left side, who were compromised by premature demonstrations.
On all hands this movement was disavowed U illegal, M an attack upon the
national representation. Even those who did not disapprove of the idea of
a new insurrection condemned this as ill managed, and declared that they
ought to beware of agitators paid by England and the emigrants to provoke
disturbances. The two sides of the Assembly seemed to concur in esta-
blishing this opinion. Both entertained the notion of a secret influence, and.
mutually accused each other of being its accomplices. A strange scene
tended to confirm still more this general opinion. The section voim
niere, in presenting volunteers, demanded an act of accusation against
Dumouriez, the general on whom rested for the moment all the hopes of the
French army. This petition, read by the president of the section, was
received with a general burst of indignation. " He is an aristocrat," cried
one, " and paid by the English." At the same instant, the flag borne by
the section being examined, it was perceived with astonishment that its
riband was white, and that it was surmounted by fleurs-de-lis. Shouts of
indignation broke forth at this sight. The fleurs-de-lis and the riband were
torn in pieces, and its place supplied by a tricoloured riband, which a female
threw from the tribunes. Isnard immediately spoke, and demanded an act
of accusation against the president of that section. More than a hundred
voices supported this motion, and in this number that which attracted most
attention was Marat's. H This petition," said he, " is a plot ; it ought to
be read through ; you will see that it demands the heads of Vergniaud, Gua-
det, Gensonne . . . and others. You are aware," added he, " what a
triumph such a massacre would be for our enemies ! It would be the
destruction of the Convention !" . . . Here universal applause interrupted
Marat. He resumed, denounced himself as one of the principal agitators,
named Fournier, and demanded his apprehension. It was instantly ordered ;
the whole affair was referred to the committee of general safety ; and the
Assembly ordered a copy of the minutes (proce s-verbal) to be sent to Du-
mouriez, to prove to him that, as far as he was concerned, it gave no
encouragement to the denunciations of calumniators.
Young Varlet, a friend and companion of Fournier, hastened to the Jaco-
bins to demand justice for his apprehension, and to propose to go and set
him at liberty. « Fournier," said he, " is not the only person threatened.
Lasouski, Desfieux, and myself, are in the same predicament. The revo-
lutionary tribunal, which is just established, will turn Against the patriots
like that of the 10th of August, and the brethren who hear me are not
Jacobins if they do not follow me." He was then proceeding to accuse
Dumouriez, but here an extraordinary agitation pervaded the Assembly :
the president put on his hat and said that people wanted to ruin the
Jacobins. Billaud-Varennes himself ascended the tribune, complained of
these inflammatory propositions, justified Dumouriez, to whom, he said, he
was no friend, but who, nevertheless, did his duty, and who had proved that
the Convention; the judges, the public accuser, the two substitutes shall bo named by it;
the tribunal shall decide on the opinion of the majority of the jury ; the opinion of the
court shall be without appeal ; and the effects of the condemned shall be confiscated to the
republic" — History of the Convention. E.
112 HISTORY OF THE
he was determined to fight stoutly. He complained of a plan for disorganizing
the National Convention by attacks upon it ; declared Varlet, Foumier, and Des-
fieux, as highly suspicious, and supported the proposal for a purificatory scru-
tiny, to clear the society of all the secret enemies who wished to compromise it.
The sentiments of Billaud-Varennes were adopted. Satisfactory intelligence,
such as the rallying of the army by Dumouriez, and the acknowledgment of
the republic by the Porte, contributed to restore complete tranquillity. Thus
Marat, Billaud-Varennes, and Robespierre, who also spoke in the same spirit,
all declared themselves against the agitators, and seemed to agree in believing
that they were in the pay of the enemy. This is an incontestable proof that
there existed no plot secretly formed, as the Girondins believed. Had such a
plot existed, assuredly Billaud-Varennes, Marat, and Robespierre would have
been more or less implicated in it; they would have been obliged to keep
silence, like the left side of the Legislative Assembly after the 20th of June,
and certainly they could not have demanded the apprehension of one of their
accomplices. But in this instance, the movement was but the effect of
popular agitation,* and it could have been disavowed, if it had been too pre-
mature or too unskilfully combined. Besides, Marat, Robespierre, and
Billaud-Varennes, though they desired the fall of the Girondins, sincerely
dreaded the intrigues of foreigners, feared a disorganization in presence of
the victorious enemy, felt apprehension of the opinions of the departments,
were embarrassed by the accusations to which these movements exposed
them, and probably never thought as yet of anything further than making
themselves masters of all the departments of the ministry, of all the com-
mittees, and driving the Girondins from the government, without excluding
them by violence from the legislature. One man alone, and he the least
inimical of all to the Girondins, might nevertheless have been suspected.
He had unbounded influence over the Cordeliers, the authors of the commo-
tion ; he had no animosity against the members of the right side, but he
disliked their system of moderation, which, in his opinion, retarded the
action of the government. He was bent on having, at any price, an extra-
ordinary tribunal and a supreme committee, which should exercise an irre-
sistible dictatorship, because he was solicitous, above all things, for the
success of the Revolution ; and it is possible that he secretly instigated the
agitators of the 10th of March, with a view to intimidate the Girondins, and
to overcome their resistance. It is certain, at least, that he did not take the
trouble to disavow the authors of the disturbance, and that, on the contrary,
he renewed his urgent demands that the government should be organized in
a prompt and terrible manner.
Be this as it may, it was agreed that the aristocrats were the secret insti-
gators of these movements. This everybody believed, or pretended to
believe. Vergniaud, in a speech of persuasive eloquence, t in which he de-
nounced the whole conspiracy, supposed the same thing. He was censured,
• " Never, through the whole course of the Revolution, did the working-classes of Paris
rise into tumult and violence, except when driven to it by misery and hunger — hunger, the
most imperative of wants, which blinds the eye and deafens the ear to all other considerations,
and ripens the fruits sown by an improvident government, despair and revolt!" — Duchess
cTAiranfts. E.
j- " ■ We arc marching,' exclaimed Vergniaud, ' from crimes to amnesties, and from am-
nesties to crimes. The great body of citizens are so blinded by (heir frequent occurrence,
that they confound these seditious disturbances with the grand national movement in favour
of freedom ; regard the violence of brigands as the efforts of energetic minds ; and consider
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 113
it is true, by Louvct, who would have been pleased to see the Jacobins more
directly attacked ; but he carried his motion that the first exercise of the
powers of the extraordinary tribunal should consist in prosecuting the authors
of the 10th of March. The minister of justice, who was required to make
a report of the occurrences, declared that be had nowhere discovered the
revolutionary committee to which they were attributed, that lie had perceived
nothing but the agitation of clubs, and propositions made in a moment of
enthusiasm. The only more precise circumstance that he had detected,
was a meeting of some of the members of the Cordeliers at the Corraz;;
coffee-house. These members of the Cordeliers were Lasouski, Founder,
Cusman, Deslieux. Varlet, the usual agitators of the sections. They met
after the sittings to converse on political topics. Nobody attached any im-
portance to this revelation ; and, as deep-laid plots vre presumed, the
meeting of so few subordinate persons at the Corraza coffee- house appeared
merely ridiculous.
Such was the state of things when Dumouriez, on his return from Holland,
rejoined his army at Louvain. We have seen him exerting his authority
against the commissioners of the executive power, and with all his might
opposing Jacobinism, which was striving to introduce itself into Belgium.
To all these steps he added one still bolder, which could not fail to lead him
to the same point as Lafayette. He wrote on the 12th of March a letter to
the Convention, in which, recurring to the disorganization of the armies
produced by Pache and the Jacobins, the decree of the 15th of December,
and the vexations practised upon the Belgians, he imputed all the present
evils to the disorganizing spirit communicated by Paris to the rest of France,
and by France to the countries liberated by our armies. This letter, full of
boldness, and still more of remonstrances, not within the province of a gene-
ral to make, reached the committee of general safety at the moment when so
many accusations were preferred against Dumouriez, and when continual
efforts were making to maintain him in the popular favour, and to attach him
to the republic. • This letter was kept secret, and Danton was sent to pre-
vail upon him to withdraw it.
Dumouriez rallied his army in advance of Louvain, drew together his
scattered columns, and sent off a corps upon his right to guard the Campine, and
to connect his operations with the rear of the army endangered in Holland.
Immediately afterwards he determined to resume the offensive, in order to
revive the confidence of his troops. The Prince of Coburg, after securing
the course of the Meuse from Liege to Maestricht, and proceeding beyond
that place to St. Trond, had ordered Tirlemont to be occupied by an advanced
corps. Dumouriez caused that town to be retaken ; and, perceiving that the
enemy had not thought of guarding the important position of Goidsenhoven,
which commands the whole tract between the two Gettes, he despatched
thither a few battalions, which made themselves masters of it without much
difficulty. On the following day, March 16th, the enemy, desirous of re-
covering that lost position, attacked it with great vigour. Dumouriez, anti-
cipating this, sent reinforcements to support it, and was particularly solicit-
ous to raise the spirits of his troops by this combat. The imperialists, being
repulsed with the loss of seven or eight hundred men, recrossed the Little
Gette, and took post between the villages of Neerlanden, Landen, Neerwin-
robbery itself aa indispensable for public freedom. Citizens, there is but too much reason to
dread that the Revolution, like Saturn, will successively devour all its progeny, and finally
leave only despotism, with all it* attendant calamities.' " — Migntt. E.
vol. ii. — 15 k2
114 HISTORY OF THE
den, Overwinden, and Racour. The French, emboldened by this advantage,
placed themselves, on their side, in front of Tirlemont, and in several villages
situated on the left of the Little Gette, which became the boundary-tine of
the two armies.
Dumouriez now resolved to fight a pitched battle, and this intention was
as judicious as it was bold. Methodical warfare was not suited to his, as
yet, almost undisciplined troops. He was anxious to confer lustre on our
arms, to give confidence to the Convention, to attach the Belgians to himself,
to bring the enemy back beyond the Meuse, to fix him there for a time, and
then to fly once more to Holland, to penetrate into one of the capitals of the
coalition and carry revolution into it. To these projects Dumouriez added,
as he asserts, the re-establishment of the constitution of 1791, and the over-
throw of the demagogues, with the assistance of the Dutch and of his army ;
but this addition is false on this occasion, as at the moment when he was on
the Moerdyk. All that was judicious, possible, and true, in his plan, related to
the recovery of his influence, the re-establishing of our arms, and the follow-
ing up of his military projects after gaining a victory. The reviving ardoui
of his army, his military position, all inspired him with a well-founded hope
of success. Besides, it was necessary to risk much in his situation, and it
would be wrong to hesitate.
Our army was spread over a front of two leagues, and bordered the little
Gette from Neer-Heylissen to Leaw. Dumouriez resolved to operate a ro-
tatory movement, which should bring back the enemy between Leaw and
St. Trond. His left was supported on the Leaw as on a pivot; his right
was to turn by Neer-Heylissen, Racour, and Landen, and to oblige the Aus-
trians to fall back before it to St. Trond. For this purpose it would be ne-
cessary to cross the little Gette, to climb its steep banks, to take Leaw, Ors-
mael, Neerwinden, Overwinden, and Racour. The last three villages, facing
our right, which was to pass through them in its rotatory movement, formed
the principal point of attack. Dumouriez, dividing his right into three columns,
under the command of Valence, directed them to pass the Gette at the bridge
of Neer-Heylissen. One was to rush upon the enemy, the other to advance
briskly upon the elevated knoll of Middelwinden, to dash down from that
height upon the village of Overwinden, and to take possession of it ; while
the third was to attack the village of Neerwinden by its right. The centre,
under the Duke of Chartres, composed of two columns, was to cross by the
bridge of Esemael, to pass through Laer, and attack in front Neerwinden,
already threatened on its first flank by the third column. Lastly, the left,
under the command of Miranda, was to divide into two or three columns, to
occupy Leaw and Orsmael, and to maintain its ground there, while the cen-
tre and the right, marching on after the victory, should effect the rotatory
movement which was the object of the batde.
These arrangements were determined upon in the evening of the 17th.
Next day, the 18th, at nine in the morning, the whole array broke up in
order, and with ardour. The Gette was crossed at all the points. Miranda
sent Champmorin to occupy Leaw, and he himself took Orsmael and open-
ed a cannonade upon the enemy, who had retired to the heights of Halle,
and strongly intrenched himself there. The object was attained on this
point. In the centre and on the right, the movement was effected at the
same hour. The two parts of the army passed through Elissem, Esen
Neer-Heylissen, and, in spite of a galling fire, climbed with great oeui
the steep heights bordering the Gette. The column of the extreme right
passed through Racour, entered the plain, and, instead of extending itself
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 115
there, h it had been ordered, committed the blunder of turning back to Over-
winden, in quest of the enemy. The second column of the right, after haying
been retarded in its march, rushed with benpie impetuosity upon the elevated
knoll of Middelwinden, and drove the Imperialists from it; hut, instead of
establishing itself there in force, it merely passed on and took possession of
Overwinden. The third column entered Neerwinden, and, in consequence
of a misunderstanding, committed another blunder, that of extending itself
toe BOOB beyond the village, and thereby running the risk of being driven
out of it by a return of the Imperialists. The French army had nevertheless
nearly attained its object : but the Prince of Coburg, having at the outset
been guilty of the fault of not attacking our troops at the moment when they
:rossing the Gette and climbing its steep banks, repaired it by giving a
general order to resume the abandoned positions. A superior force was ad-
vancing upon our left against Miranda. Clairfayt, taking advantage of the
faults committed on our side — inasmuch as the first column had not persisted
in attacking him, the second had not established itself on the knoll of Middle-
winden, and the third and the two composing the centre had crowded them-
selves confusedly into Neerwinden — crossed the plain of Landen, retook Ra-
cour, the knoll of Middelwinden, Overwinden, and Neerwinden.
At this moment the French were in a perilous position. Dislodged from
all the points which they had occupied, driven back to the margin of the
heights, attacked on their right, cannonaded on their front by a superior artil-
lery, threatened by two corps of cavalry, and having a river in their rear,
they might have been destroyed, and this would certainly have happened,
had the enemy, instead of directing the greater part of his force upon their
left, pushed their centre and their right more vigorously. Dumouriez has-
tened up to this threatened point, rallied his columns, caused the knoll ol
Middelwinden to be retaken, and then proceeded upon Neerwinden, which
had already been twice taken by the French, and twice retaken by the Im-
perialists. Dumouriez entered it for the third time, after a horrible carnage.
This unfortunate village was choked up with men and horses, and, in the
confusion of the attack, our troops had crowded together there in the utmost
disorder. Dumouriez. aware of the danger, abandoned this spot, encumber-
ed with human carcasses, and re-formed his columns at some distance from
the village. There, surrounding himself with artillery, he prepared to main-
tain his srround on the field of battle. At this moment two columns of ca-
valry rushed upon him, one from Neerwinden, the other from Overwinden.
Valence met the first at the head of the French cavalry, charged it with im-
petuosity, repulsed it, and, covered with glorious wounds, was obliged to
relinquish his command to the Duke de Chartres. General Thouvenot coolly
received the second, and suffered it to advance into the midst of our in-
fantry, which he directed to open its ranks; he then suddenly ordered a
double discharge of grape and musketry, which cut up and nearly annihilated
the imperial cavalry, who had advanced close to the muzzles of die guns.
Dumouriez thus remained master of the field of battle, and established him-
self there for the purpose of completing his rotatory movement on the follow-
ing day.
The conflict had been sanguinary, but the most difficult part of the busi-
ness seemed to be accomplished. The left, established ever since the morn-
ing at Leaw and OrsmaCl, was not likely to have anything more to do; and,
the fire having ceased at two in the afternoon, Dumouriez conceived that it
had maintained its ground. He considered himself as victorious, since he
occupied the whole field of battle. Meanwhile, night approached : the right
116 HISTORY OF THE
and the centre kindled their fires, but no officer had yet come from Miranda
to inform Dumouriez of what was passing on his left flank. He then began
to entertain doubts, which soon grew into alarm. He set out on horseback
with two officers and two attendants, and found the village of Laer abandon-
ed by Dampierre, who commanded under the Duke de Chartres one of the
columns of the centre. Dumouriez there learned that the left, in utter con-
fusion, had recrossed the Gette, and fled to Tirlemont ; and that Dampierre,
finding himself then uncovered, had fallen back to the post which he occu-
pied in the morning before the battle. He set out at full speed, accompanied
by his two servants and the two officers, narrowly escaped being taken by
the Austrian hulans, arrived about midnight at Tirlemont, and found Miranda,
who had fallen back two leagues from the field of battle, and whom Valence,
conveyed thither in consequence of his wounds, was in vain persuading to
advance. Miranda, having entered Orsmael in the morning, had been at-
tacked at the moment when the Imperialists retook all their positions. The
greatest part of the enemy's force had advanced upon his wing, which, part-
ly composed of the national volunteers, had dispersed and lied to Tirlemont.
Miranda had been hurried along, and had not had either time or power to
rally his men, though Miaczinsky had come to his aid with a body ot fresh
troops ; he had not even thought to acquaint the commander-in-chief of the
circumstance. As for Champmorin, placed at Leaw with the last column,
he had maintained himself there till evening, and had not thought of return-
ing to Bingen, his point of departure, till towards the close of the day.
The French army thus found itself separated, one part in rear of the Gette,
the other in front; and if the enemy, less intimidated by so obstinatr an
action, had thought of following up his advantages, he might have cut our
line, annihilated our right, encamped at Neerwinden, and put to flight the
left, which had already fallen back. Dumouriez, undismayed, coolly re-
solved upon retreat, and next morning prepared to execute his intention. For
this purpose he took upon himself the command of Miranda's wing, endea-
voured to inspire it with some courage, and was desirous to push it forward,
in order to keep the enemy in check on the left of the line, while the centre
and right, commencing their retreat, should attempt to recross the Gette.
Luckily, Dampierre, who had recrossed the Gette on the same day with a
column of the centre, supported the movement of Dumouriez, and conducted
himself with equal skill and courage. Dumouriez, still in the midst of his
battalions, supported them, and resolved to lead them to the height of Worn-
mersem, which they had occupied the evening before the battle. The Aua-
trians had since placed batteries there, and kept up a destructive fire from
that point. Dumouriez put himself at the head of his disheartened soldiers,
and made them sensible that it was better to attempt the attack than to receive
a continued fire ; that they would be quit for one charge, which would be
much less galling to them than this dead immobility in presence of an over-
whelming artillery. Twice he prevailed upon them, and twice they halted,
as if discouraged by the remembrance of the preceding day ; but, while they
bore with heroic constancy the fire from the heights of Wommersem, they
had not that much more easy courage to charge with the bayonet. At this
moment a ball struck the general's horse. He was thrown down and covered
with mould. His terrified soldiers were ready to. flee at this si<_rht ; hut he
rose with extreme agility, mounted another horse, and continued to keep
them on the field of battle. <
The Duke de Chartres was meanwhile effecting the retreat of the right
and half of the centre. Conducting his four columns with equal skill and
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 117
intrepidity, he coolly retired before a formidable enemy, and crossed the
three bridges of the Gette without sustaining any loss. Dumouriez then
drew back his hit wing, as well as Dampierre's column, and returned to the
position! of the preceding day, in presence of an enemy filled with admira-
tion of his masterly retreat. On the 19th the array found itself, as on the
17th, between Hackendoven and Goidsenhoven, but with a loss of four
thousand killed, with a desertion of more than ten thousand fugitives, who
were already hurrying towards the interior, and with the discouragement of a
lost battle*
Dumouriez, consumed by vexation, agitated by conflicting sentiments,
sometimes thought of combating the Austrians to the last extremity, and
sometimes of destroying the faction of the Jacobins, to whom he attributed
the disorganization and die reverses of his army. In the height of his spleen,
he inveighed bitterly against the tyranny of Paris, and his expressions, re-
peated by his staff, were circulated throughout the whole army. Though
under the influence of a singular confusion of mind, he did not lose the cool-
sary for a retreat; and he made the best dispositions for occupying
Belgium for a considerable time by means of the fortresses, if he should be
i to evacuate it with his armies. In consequence, he ordered General
d'llarville to throw a strong garrison into the citadel of Namur, and to main-
tain himself there with one division. He sent General Ruault to Antwerp
to collect the twenty thousand men belonging to the expedition against Hol-
land, and to guard the Scheldt, while strong garrisons should occupy Breda
and Gertruydenburg. His aim was thus to form a semicircle of fortresses,
passing through Namur, Moiis, Tournay, Courtrai, Antwerp, Breda, and
Gertruydenburg ; to place himself in the centre of this semicircle, and await
the reinforcements necessary for acting more energetically. On the 22d, he
was engaged before Louvain in an action of position with the Imperialists,
which was as serious as that of Goidsenhoven, and cost them as many men.
In the evening he had an interview with Colonel Mack,t an oflicer of the
enemy, who exercised great influence over the operations of the allies, from
the reputation which he enjoyed in Germany. They agreed not to fight any
more decisive battles, to follow one another slowly and in good order, and
to spare the blood of the soldiers, and the countries which were the theatre
of the war. This kind of armistice, most favourable to the French, who
would have dispersed had they been briskly attacked, was also perfectly
suited to the timid system of the coalition, which, after having recovered the
Meuse, meant to attempt nothing decisive before the reduction of Mayence.
Such was the first negotiation of Dumouriez with the enemy. The polite-
* " The position of the French commander was now extremely critical. His volunteers
left their colours on the first serious reverses ; and whole companies and battalions, with their
arms and baggage, went off in a body towards the French frontier, spreading dismay over all
the roads leading to France. The French troops are the best in the world to advance and
gain conquests, but they have not, till iaured by discipline and experience, the steadiness
requisite to preserve them." — Alison. E.
•\ "Charles, Baron von Mack, an Austrian general, was born in Franconia in 1752. On
leaving college, his inclination led him to enlist as a private in a regiment of dragoons; and
in the war with Turkey he obtained a captain's commission. On the occurrence of war
with France, Mack was appointed quartermaster-general of the army of Prince Coburg, and
directed the operations of the campaign of 1793. In 1797 he succeeded the Archduke
Charles in Ihe command of the army of the Rhine. In 1804 he was appointed commander-
in-chief in the Tyrol Dalmatia, and Italy. In the following year Napoleon forced him to
retn-.it 1* vond the Danube, and to submit to the famous capitulation of Ulni. Mack died in
obscurity in the year 1826." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
118 HISTORY OF THE
nesa of Colonel Mack and his winning manners might have disposed the
deeply-agitated mind of the general to have recourse to foreign aid. lie
began to perceive no prospect in the career which he was pursuing. If, a
lew months before, he foresaw success, glory, and influence, in commanding
the French armies, and if this hope rendered him more indulgent towards
revolutionary violence ; now, beaten, stripped of his popularity, and attribut-
ing the disorganization of his army to this same violence, he viewed with
horror the disorders which he might formerly have regarded only with indif-
ference. Bred in courts, having seen with his own eyes how strongly-orga-
nized a machine is requisite to insure the durability of a state, he could not
conceive that insurgent citizens wrere adequate to an operation so complicated
as that of government. In such a situation, if a general, at once an admi-
nistrator and a warrior, holds the power in his hands, he can scarcely fail to
conceive the idea of employing it to put an end to the disorders which haunt
his thoughts and even threaten his person.
Dumouriez was bold enough to conceive such an idea ; and, having no
further prospect of serving the Revolution by victories, he thought of form-
ing another for himself, by bringing back this revolution to the constitution
of 1791, and reconciling it at this price with all Europe. In this plan a
king would have been required, and men were of so little importance to
Dumouriez, that he did not care much about the choice. He was charged
at that time with a design to place the house of Orleans on the throne.
What led to this surmise was his affection for the Duke de Chartres, to
whom he had contrived to give the most brilliant part in the army. But
this proof was very insignificant, for the young duke had deserved .all that
lie had obtained, and, besides, there was nothing in his conduct that demon-
strated a concert with Dumouriez.
Another consideration generally prevailed, namely, that at the moment
there was no other possible choice, in case of the creation of a new dy-
nasty. The son of the deceased King was too young, and, besides, regi-
cide did not admit of so prompt a reconciliation with the dynasty. The
uncles were in a state of hostility, and there remained but the branch
of Orleans, as much compromised in the Revolution as the Jacobins them-
selves, and alone capable of dispelling all the fears of the revolutionists. If
the agitated mind of Dumouriez was decided in its choice, it could not then
have made any other ; and it was these considerations which caused him to
be accused of an intention to seat the Orleans family on the throne. He de-
nied it after his emigration, but this interested denial proves nothing, and he
is no more to be believed on this point, than in regard to the anterior date
which he has pretended to give to his plans. He meant, in fact, to assert
that he had long been thinking of revolting against the Jacobins; but this
assertion is false. It was not till then, that is, till the career of lacoess was
closed against him, that he thought of opening to himself another. In this
scheme were blended persona] resentment, mortification on account of his
reverses, and, lastly, a sincere but tardy indignation against the endless dis-
orders which he now foresaw without any illusion.
On the 22d he found at Louvain, Danton and Lacroix. who came to call
him to account for the letter written on the 12th of March to the Convention,
and kepi secret by the committee of general safety. Danton, with whom he
sympathized, hoped to bring him back to calmer sentiments, and to attach
him again to the common cause. But Dumouriez treated the two commis-
sioners and Danton himself with great petulance, and even betrayed
the most untoward disposition. He broke out into fresh complaints against
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 119
the Convention and the Jacobins, and would not retract his letter. He
merely oOBoentod to :uld a few words, saying that at b future tune he would
explain himself. Denton and Lacroix returned without obtaining from him
any conceesion, and left him in the most violent agitation.
Ob the 2."Jd, after a firm resistance during the whole day, several corps
abandoned their posts, and he was obliged to quit Louvainin disorder. For-
tunately, the enemy was not aware of this movement, and did not avail him-
self nt the opportunity to throw our army into complete confusion by pur-
suing it. Dumouriez then separated the troops of the line from the volunteers,
united the former with the artillery, and composed with them a corps dPiKtt
of fifteen thousand men, with which he took his place in the rear-guard.
There, showing himself among his soldiers, skirmishing all day along with
them, ho succeeded in giving a firmer attitude to his retreat. He caused
Brussels to he evacuated in good order, passed through that city on the 25th,
and on the 27th encamped at Ath. There he had fresh conferences with
Mack, was treated by him with great delicacy and respect, and this inter-
view, which had no other object than to regulate the details of the armistice,
soon changed into a more important negotiation. Dumouriez communicated
all his resentments to the foreign colonel, and disclosed to him his plans for
overthrowing the National Convention. Here, hurried away by resentment,
excited by the idea of a general disorganization, the saviour of France in
the Argonne tarnished his glory by treating with an enemy, whose ambition
ought to have rendered all his intentions suspicious, and whose power was
then the most dangerous for us. In these difficult situations, the man of genius
has. as we have already observed, but one alternative: either to retire and
to abdicate all influence, that he may not be the accomplice of a system of
which he disapproves ; or to keep aloof from the evil which he cannot pre-
vent, and do one thing, and one only, ever moral, ever glorious — labour for
the defence of his country.
Dumouriez agreed with Colonel Mack that there should be a suspension
of arms between the two armies ; that the Imperialists should advance upon
Paris, while he should himself march thither; that the evacuation of Bel-
gium should be the price of this compliance ; that the fortress of Conde
should be temporarily given up as a guarantee; that, in case Dumouriez
should have occasion for the Austrians, they should be placed at his disposal ;
that the fortresses should receive garrisons composed one half of Imperial-
ists, the other of French, but under the command of French officers, and
that at the peace all the fortresses should be restored. Such were the guilty
engagements contracted by Dumouriez with the Prince of Coburg, through
the medium of Colonel Mack.
Nothing was yet known in Paris but the defeat of Neerwinden, and the
ive evacuation of Belgium. The loss of a great batde, and a preci-
pitate retreat, concurring with the news which had been received from the
caused there the greatest agitation. A plot had been discovered at
Rennes, and it appeared to have been hatched by the English, the Breton
gentry, and the noujuring priests. Commotions had already broken out in
the West, on account of the dearth of provisions and the threat of cutting
off the salaries of the ministers of religion: hut now it was for the ai
motive of absolute monarchy. Bands of peasants, demanding the re-esta-
bli.-liinent of the clergy and of the Bourbons, had made their appearance in
the environs of Renins and Nantes. Orleans was in full insurrection, and
Bourdon, the representative, had been nearly murdered in that city. The
insurgents already amounted to several thousand men. It would require
120 HISTORY OF THE
nothing less than armies and generals to reduce them. The great towns
despatched their national guards ; General Labourdonnaye advanced with
his corps, and everything forebode a civU war of the most sanguinary kind.
Thus, on the one hand, our armies were retreating before the coalition ; on
the other, La Vendee was rising,* and never ought the ordinary agitation
produced by danger to have been greater.
Nearly about this period, and in consequence of the 10th of March, a
conference between the leaders of the two opinions at the committee of ge-
neral safety was brought about, for the purpose of mutual explanations re-
specting the motives of their dissensions. It was Danton who instigated the
interview. Quarrels did not gratify animosities which he harboured not,
but exposed him to a discussion of conduct which he dreaded, and ch
the progress of the revolution, which was so dear to him. He wished,
therefore, to put an end to them. He had shown great sincerity in the dif-
ferent conversations, and if he took the initiative, if he accused the G iron-
dins, it was in order to obviate the reproaches which mi^lit have been
directed against himself. The Girondins, such as Buzot, Guadet, Vergni-
aud, and Gensonne, with their accustomed delicacy, justified themsel
if the accusation had been serious, and preached to one already converted in
arguing with Danton. The case was quite different with Robespierre. By
endeavouring to convince, they only irritated him, and they strove to demon-
strate his errors, as if that demonstration ought to have appeased him. As
for Marat, who had deemed himself necessary at these conferences, no one
had deigned to enter into any explanation with him ; nay, his very friends
never spoke to him, that they might not have to justify themselves for this
alliance. Such conferences tended to imbitter rather than soothe the opposite
leaders. Had they succeeded in convincing each other of their reciprocal faults,
such a demonstration would assuredly not have reconciled them. .Matters had
arrived at this point when the events in Belgium became known in Paris.
Both parties instantly began to accuse each other. They reproached one
another with contributing to the public disasters, the one by disorganizing
the government, the other party by striving to retard its action. Explana-
tions relative to the conduct of Dumouriez were demanded. The letter of
the 12th of March, which had been kept secret, was read; it produced outcries
that Dumouriez was betraying the country, that he was evidently pursuing the
same line of conduct as Lafayette had done, and that, after his example, he
was beginning his treason by insolent letters to the Assembly. \
letter, written on the 27th of March, and even bolder than that of the 12th,
excited still stronger suspicions. Danton was urged on all sides to state
what he knew of Dumouriez. Every one was aware that these two men
had a partiality for each other, that Danton had insisted on keeping
the letter of the 12th of March, and that he had gone to persuade Dumouriez
to retract it. Some even asserted that they had committed peculations
• " After the 10th of August a persecution of the priests in La Vendee began ; anil the
peasants, like the Cameronians in Scotland, gathered together, arms in hand, to hear mass
in the field, and die in defending their spiritual fathers. More than forty parishes assembled
tumultuously ; the national guards of the Plain routed this ill-armed crowd, and slew about
one hundred in the field. Life and free pardon were offered to others if they would only
cry ' Vive la Nation !' but there were few who would accept of life on these terms. As yet,
however, the tumults were merely partial ; but when the Convention called for a consrrip-
tion of three hundred men, a measure which would have forced the people to fight for a
cause which they abhorred, one feeling of indignation rose through the whole coun:
the insurrection through all La Vendee broke forth simultaneously, and without concert or
plan." — Quarterly Review.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 121
together in opulent Belgium. At the Jacobins, in the committee of general
defence, in the Assembly, Danton was culled upon to explain himself. Per-
plexed by the suspicions of the Girondins, and by the doubts of the Moun-
taineers themselves, Danton felt, for the first time, some difficulty in replying,
id that the great talents of Dumouriez had appeared to deserve some
indulgence; that it had been deemed proper to see him before denouncing
tiiin, in order to convince him of his errors, and to bring him back, if possi-
ble, to hetter sentiments ; that thus far the commissioners had regarded his
conduct as the effect of evil suggestions, and of vexation on account of his
late reverses ; but that they had believed, and they still did believe, that his
talents might be retained for the republic.
Robespierre said that, if this were the case, he ought not to be treated with
any indulgence, and that it was useless to show him such forbearance. He
renewed, moreover, tlve motion which Louvethad made against the Bourbons
who had remained in France, that is to say, against the members of the Or-
leans family ; and it appeared strange that Robespierre, who, in January,
had so warnilv defended them against the Girondins, should now attack them
with such fury. But his suspicious mind had instantly surmised sinister
plots. He had said to himself: A man who was once a prince of the blood
cannot submit with resignation to his new condition, and, though he calls
himself Egalite, his sacrifice cannot be sincere. He is conspiring, then, and,
in fact, all our generals belong to him. Biron, who commands at the Alps,
is his intimate friend ; Valence, general of the army of the Ardennes, is the
son-in-law of his confidant, Sillery ; his two sons hold the first rank in the
army of Belgium ; lastly, Dumouriez is openly devoted to them, and is
training them with particular care. The Girondins attacked, in January, the
family of Orleans, but it was a feint on their part, which had no other aim
than to obviate all suspicion of connivance. Brissot, a friend of Sillery, is
the go-between of the conspiracy : there is the whole plot laid open : the
throne will be again raised, and France undone, if we do not make haste to
proscribe the conspirators. Such were the conjectures of Robespierre ; and,
what is most frightful in this manner of reasoning is, that Robespierre, influ-
enced by hatred, believed these calumnies.* The astonished Mountain
* The subjoined extract from Garat's Memoirs, furnishes the most accurate picture ever
drawn of Robespierre and of the suspicions by which he was haunted. It is a conversation.
" No sooner was Robespierre aware that I was going to speak to him about the quarrels
of the Convention than he said, 'All those deputies of the Gironde, those Brissots, those
Louvets, those Barbaroux, are counter-revolutionists, conspirators.' I could not refrain from
laughing, and the laugh which escaped me soured him immediately. 'You were always like
that. In the Constituent Assembly, you were disposed to believe that the aristocrats were
fond of the Revolution.' — ' I was not precisely like that. The utmost that I could believe
was that some of the nobles were not aristocrats. I thought so of several, and you still think
so yourself of some of them. I was also ready to believe that we should have made some
conversions among the aristocrats themselves, if, out of the two means which were at our dis-
posal, reason and force, we had more frequently employed reason, which was on our side
only, and less frequently force, which may be on the side of tyrants. Take my advice ; forget
these dangers which we have surmounted and which have nothing to do with those that
threaten us at this moment War was then waging between the friends and the enemies of
liberty ; it is now waging between the lukewarm and the earnest friends of the republic. If
an opportunity were to present itself, I would say to Louvct that he is egregiously mistaken
to believe you to be a royalist, but to you I deem it my duty to say that Louvet is no more a
royalist than yourself. You resemble in your quarrels the Molinists and the Jansenists,
whose whole dispute turned on the manner in which divine grace operates upon the soul, and
who mutually accused each other of not believing in God.' — ' If they are not royalists, why
did they labour so hard to save die King's life 1 I would wager that you were yourself for
mercy, for clemency. . . But what signifies it what principle rendered the King's death just
vol. ii. — 16 L
HISTORY OF THE
repelled his mgmtkms. "Gire us proofs, then," said those who were
seated by hie sale. " Proofs !" he replied, •* proofs ! I hare none ; but I
have the moral conviction; f
and necessary , .your Brissots, your Carmine, sad your sppfhw to As people, were i _
ill Did they then wish to leave to tyranny all the means of raising itself again?'— 'I know
not whether the intention of the appealer* to the people was to spare Capet the punishment
of death ; the appeal to tie people always appeared to me imprudent and dangeroos; bat I
en easily conceive how those who voted far it might have bebVred that the fife of Capet as
a prisoner might be, in the coarse of event*, more useful than Ins death; lean conceive bow
they might have thought that the appeal to the people was a grand means of honouring a
republican nation in the eyes of the whole world, by giving it occasion to exercise itself a
signal act of generosity by an act of sovereignty/—' It is certainly attributing fine intentions
to measures which you do not approve, and to men who are conspiring on all tide*.' — ' Bat
where are they conspiring V — » Everywhere ; in Paris, all over Prance, all over Europe. In
Paris, Gensonne is conspiring in the fauxbourg St Antoine, by going from shop to shop and
persuading the shopkeepers that we patriots wast to plunder their houses. The Giroode
long since farmed a plan for separating itself from France, and uniting itself with England ;
and the leaders of its deputation are themselves the authors of this plan, which they deter-
mined to execute at any rate. Gensonne does not conceal this ; be tells everybody who
chooses to listen to him, that they are not here the representatives of the nation, but the
plenipotentiaries of the Giroode. Brisaot conspires in his journal, which is a tocsin of civil
war ; it is well known that he is gone to England, and it is equally wefl known why be is
gone ; we are not ignorant of bis intimate connexion with the minister for foreign affairs,
with Lebrun, who is from Liege, and a creature of the house of Austria ; the beat friend of
Brisaot is Clavieree, and Cwvieres has conspired wherever be has breathed : Rabaud, traitor,
like a protestant and a philosopher as be is, has not been cunning enough to conceal from oa
his correspondence with the courtier and traitor Montesquioa : they have been labouring for
these six months together to open Savoy and France to the Piedmoatese ; Servan has been
appointed general of the army of the Pyrenees, merely to give up the keys of France to the
Spaniards; lastly, there is Dumouriez, who no longer threatens Holland, bat Paris; and
when that charlatan of heroism was here, when J toot anxious to have him arretted, it was
not with the Mountain that he dined every day, but with the ministers and the Giroodins.' —
' Three or four times with me, for example.' — ' I am quite tired of the Revolution ,- I am iH.
ffever was the country in greater dangers, and I doubt whether it will extricate itself from
them. Well, are yon still in the humour to laugh, and to believe that these are very upright
man, scry good republicans V— » No, I am not tempted to loach, bat I can hardly repress the
tears wham mast be shed for the country, when one sees its legislators a prey to such fright-
ful suspicions on such paltry grounds. I am sore that there is nothing real in all y our sus-
picions ; but I am sore, too, that yoor onapicioaa are a very real and a very great danger.
Almost all these men are your enesmes, but none of them, excepting Diimmnfer, is an tnsmy
to the republic; ami if you could oa si sides divest yourselves of your mamoajrim, the Te-
nable would no longer be in any danger.' — » Are yon not going to propuas to me to iimaJal
Bishop Lamouret's motion V — t If o; I have |imamJ sufficiently by the lessons at least winch
yoa have given me : and the tame Nafiounl Aasernbbea have taken the true tie to teach ms
that the best patriot i hate their enemies much mora than they love than country. Bat
I have one question to ask ; and I beg yon to reflect before yoa answer me: Have yon any
doubt about all that you have just been saying?'— 'None.' I left him, and
amazement, and in great fear on account of what I had just beard.
"A few daya afterwards I was leaving the executive
the National Convention. Circus
* ' WeuV mid I to 80001, 00 iBioting him, 'is them no way of putting aa and to these
horrible quarrels ? — ■ yes, I hope so; I hope that I shall soon tear off all the veils that
•er those stioeioos vnaains and their atrocious tmaaiiari
anal cover those aUorioos vnmins nod their atroejoas nasaiiarim. Bat as for you. I know
that you always hod s bond confidence ; I know that it is your mania not to heaawe any-
thing.'— • You are wrong; I believe, like other peopm, bat on prosuraptwua, not on suspi-
cions, on attested forts, not on imaginary ones. Why do you suppose me, then, to be so
incredulous? Is it because I would not baheve you m 178t. when yoa aimnl ma mat
Neeker was plundering the exchequer, sad that people had moo mules laden with gold and
anWr, which be was immng off by aamnni to Geneva! This credulity, I en alms, bat bosa
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 123
It was immediately proposed, as is always the case in imrssmtr of danger,
to accelerate the action of the executive power and that of the tribunals, in
quite incorrigible in me, for, to this very day, I am pwousded that Xecker left here more
laiTiniii of his own than be carried away of oars Id Genera.'—' Neeker wi a knave; ha
he wm nothing in comperiaon with the viflaina by whom we are new surrounded : and it is
■Soot these ihingstbat I want to talk to yoa, if yoa will bear me. I wan1 tel yoa i i n jibing,
Aw I know it aU. I have muaidaud al their plots. AH the piota, al the crime., of the
Mountain began with the Revolution ; Orleans is the chief of that band of brigand* ; and it
is the author of that infernal novel, Liminmi Dangrrruta, who drew op the pbn of aU the
» which they have been committing for these five years. The traitor Lafayette was
iheir accomplice, and it was be who, making beiieve to thwart the plot in ftt very outset, sent
Orleans to England to arrange everything with Pitt, the Prince of Wales, and the cabinet of
St. James's. Mirabeau was also in that affair. He received money from the King to cloak
hia connexion with Orleans, bat be received euQ mam from Orleans to he aerviceable to htm.
The grand boamem for the Orleans' party was to induce the Jacobins to enter into its designs.
Thev durst not attempt this in a direct manner; it was therefore to the Cordeliers that they
first'applied. In the Cordeliers all were instantly bought up and became their devoted tools.
mind that the Cordeaiers have always been leas numerous than the Jacobin*, and
have always made less noise : that is, because they wish everybody to be their instrument,
hot they do not wish everybody to he in their secret. The Cordeliers have always been the
hotbed of conspirators : h is there that Dan ton, the moat dangeroos of afl, forms and bams
them to audacity and lying, brings them op to murder and maaaacres ; it is there that they
practise the part which they are afterwards to act at the Jacobins; and the Jacobins, who
mwjrrte the air of leading France, are thrmatlrea led, without being aware of it, by the Cor-
deliers. The Corddaaa, who seem to be concealed in a hole in Paris, are negotiating with
Europe, and have envoys in all their courts, who have sworn the ruin of oar liberty. The
feet is certain : I have proofs of k. In abort, it is the Cordeliers who have ingulfed one throne
in a sea of blood in order to make another throne spring op from h. They well know that
the right aide, on which are aU the virtues, is also the aide that includes the genuine republi-
cans ; and. if they accuse us of wyaKam. it is because they want a pretext for letting loose
upon as the fury of she multitude ; it is because it is easier to find daggers against us than
reasons. In a single conspiracy there are three or four. When the whole of the right side
shall be slaughtered, the Duke of York arifl come and place himself on the throne, and Or-
who has promised it him, wB aeaaesinate him; Orleans arifl himself be
by Marat, Danton, ami ffohtaphm, who have given him the same prnmiat. and the i
wul divide France, covered with aahea and blood, among them, — til the ablest of them, i
is, Danton, ■— aainilri the other two and reigns alone, first under the title of dictator, after-
wards, without disguise, under that of king- Soeh is their plan, be assured ; by dint of re-
flection I have found it oat; everything proves and makra it evident; aee how afl the circum-
stances bind and unite together ; mere is not an occurrence in the Revolution bat is a part
and a proof of dame horrid plots. Yoa took am pi had, I aee ; can you still be incredulous !*
— ' I am indeed auipiwul ; bat tol me, are there many of you, that is of the right side, who
think like yon on this subject V — 'Afl, or nearly afl. Condorcet once made some objections ;
Sieves communicates but little with os ; Rabaud. for his part, has another plan, which in
respects agrees with, and in aome differs from mine ; bat all the others have i
than myself of what I have joat told you; afl feel the necessity of acting promptly ,ofL
the inns in the Jut, m order to pmust so many uiuata sod ealamttirs, in order not
all the fruit at a Revolution which has coat us so dear. In the right side there are mfiaani
who have not sufficient ermfidenes in yoa ; bat I, who have been jour colleague, who know
yoa for an honest man, for a friend of liberty, assure them that you will be for us, that you
will assist as with afl the means that your office places at year disposal. Can vou now have
the slightest doubt left as to what I have jast told yoa about those villains ?'— • I should be
too unworthy of the esteem which yoa npnas far me, if I gave yoa reason to think that I
hrlieve the troth of this whole pbm, which yoa eonceire to be that of yoor enemies. The
of circumstances, mom, and things, yoa introduce into it. the more
it appears to yourself and the leas as it appian to me. Most of the rircam-
t oat of which you weave the tissue of this plan hare had an object which them is
no need to fend them, which is self-evident ; and yoa gire them an object which is not
self-evident, and which yea mast lead mem. Now, there most ha projt* in the fin*
place for rejecting a natural explanation, and ahem moat be other proofe afterwards to induce
the adoption of aa explanation that does not naturally present itself. For mrtanre, every-
124 HISTORY OF THE
order to guard at once against what was called the external and internal
enemy.
The commissioners appointed for the recruiting were therefore instantly
despatched, and the question whether the Convention ought not to take a
greater share in the execution of the laws was investigated. The manner in
which the executive power was organized appeared insufficient. Ministers,
placed out of the pale of the Assembly, acting upon their own motion, and
under its very remote superintendence ; a committee charged to make re-
ports on all measures of general security ; all these authorities controlling
one another, and eternally deliberating without acting, appeared quite inade-
quate to the immense task which they had to perforin. Moreovt r. this
ministry, these committees, were composed of members suspected, because
they were moderate ; and at this time, when promptness and energy v.
indispensable conditions of success, any dilatoriness, any moderation, in-
duced suspicions of conspiracy. It was therefore proposed to institute a
committee, which should unite in itself the functions of the diplomatic com-
body believes that Lafayette and Orleans were enemies, and that it was to deliver Paris,
France, and the National Assembly, from many inquietudes, that Orleans was prevailed upon
or forced by Lafayette to withdraw for a time from France : it is necessary to establish, not
by assertion but by proofs, 1st, that they were not enemies; 2dly, that they were accom-
plices ; Hilly, that the journey of the Duke of Orleans to England had for its object the exe-
cution of their plots. I know that, with so strict a mode of reasoning, we run the risk of
letting crimes and calamities run off before us without overtaking them, and without stopping
them by foresight : but I know too, that, in giving the reins to the imagination, we build
systems upon past events and upon future events ; we lose all the means of clearly discerning
and duly appreciating present events, and, while dreaming of thousands of misdeeds, which
nobody is meditating, we deprive ourselves of the faculty of seeing with certainty those by
which we are threatened ; we derive enemies who are not over scrupulous to the temptation
of committing such as they would never have thought of. I have no doubt that there are
many villains about us; the unbinding of all the passions has produced them, and they are
paid by foreign gold. But, depend upon it, if their plans are atrocious, they are neither so
vast, nor so great, nor so complicated, nor conceived and framed at such a distance. In all
this there are many more thieves and murderers than profound conspirators. The real con-
spirators against the republic are the kings of Europe and the passions of the republicans.
To repulse the kings of Europe our armies are sufficient and more than sufficient; to prevent
our passions from consuming us there is one way, but it is unique ; lose no time in organiz-
ing a government possessing strength and deserving confidence. In the state in which your
quarrels leave the government, a democracy even of twenty-five millions of angels would soon
be a prey to all the furies and to all the dissensions of pride : as Jean-Jacques observed, it
would require twenty-five millions of gods, and nobody ever yet took it into his head to ima-
gine so many. My dear Salles, men and great assemblies are not so formed as that there
shall be only gods on one side and only devils on the other. Wherever there are men with
conflicting interests and opinions, even the good have bad passions, and the bad themselves,
if you strive to penetrate into their souls with kindliness and patience, are susceptible of right
and good impressions. I find in the bottom of my soul the evident and invincible proof of
ut least one-half of this truth ; I am good myself, and as good, I will venture to say, as any
of you; but when, instead of refuting my opinions with argument and good temper, they are
repelled with suspicion and insult, I am ready to drop reasoning and to see if my pistols are
properly charged. You have made me twice minister, and twice you have done me a very
ill-service ; nothing but the dangers that surround you, and that surround me, could induce
me to retain the post which I hold. A brave man does not apply for leave of absence on the
eve of a battle. The battle, I foresee, is not far distant; and though I foresee too that you
will fire at me from both sides, I am determined to remain. I will tell you on every oci
what I shall believe in my reason and my conscience to be true ; but let me tell you that I
shall lake for guides my own conscience and my own reason, and not those of any other man
on earth. I have not laboured for thirty years of my life to make a lantern for myself, and
then to suffer myself to be lighted on my way by the lantern of others.'
" Salles and I parted, shaking hands and embracing, as though we had still been colleagues
in the Constituent Assembly.''
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 125
tnittee, of the military committee, and of the committee of general safety,
which should be authorized, in case of need, to order and to act upon its
own motion, and to cheek or to make amends for the ministerial action.
Vari mm plans of organization were presented for accomplishing this object,
and referred to a committee appointed to discuss them. Immediately after-
wards, the Assembly directed its attention to the means of reaching the in-
ternal enemy, that is, the aristocrats, the traitors, by whom it was said to
be surrounded. "France," — such was the cry — "is full of refractory
B, of nobles, of their former creatures, of their old servants ; and these
retainers, still numerous, surround us, betray us, and threaten us as danger-
ously as the hostile bayonets. It behoves us to discover them*, to mark them,
and to throw upon them a light which shall prevent them from acting."
The Jacobins had therefore proposed, and the Convention had decreed, that,
according t<> a custom borrowed from China, the names of all persons dwell-
ing in a house should be inscribed on the door. It was next enacted that all
suspected citizens should be disarmed, and all nonjuring priests, the nobles,
the late seigneurs, the dismissed functionaries, &c, were designated as such.
The disarming was to be effected by means of domiciliary visits ; and the
only mitigation attached to this measure was, that the visits should not take
place at night
Having thus insured the means of discovering and reaching all those who
gave the least umbrage, the Assembly finally added the means of striking
them in the most speedy manner by installing the revolutionary tribunal. It
was on die motion of Danton, that this terrible instrument of revolutionary
suspicion was set to work. That formidable man was well aware of the
abuse to which it was liable, but he had sacrificed everything to the object.
He well knew that to strike quickly is to examine less attentively ; that to
examine less attentively is to run the risk of a mistake, especially in times
of party virulence ; and that to commit a mistake is to commit an atrocious
injustice. But, in his view, the Revolution was society, accelerating its
action in all things, in matters of justice, of administration, and of war. In
tranquil times, said he, society chooses rather to let the guilty one escape
than to strike the innocent, because the guilty one is not very dangerous ;
but in proportion as he becomes more so, it tends more to secure him ; and
when he becomes so dangerous as to have it in his power to destroy it, or
at least when it believes so, it strikes all that excites its suspicions, and then
deems it better to punish an innocent man, than to let a guilty one escape.
Such is the dictatorship, that is, the violent action in societies when threat-
ened. It is rapid, arbitrary, faulty, but irresistible.
Thus the concentration of powers in the Convention, the installation of
the revolutionary tribunal, the commencement of the inquisition against sus-
pected persons, and redoubled hatred against the deputies who opposed these
extraordinary measures, were the result of the batde of Neerwinden, the
retreat from Belgium, the threats of Dumouriez, and the insurrection in La
Vendue.*
• " When the agitation of the public mind in La Vendee first occupied the attention of
government Petion proposed that a force should be sent there sufficient to overawe the peo-
ple, and thus spare the effusion of blood. But the ruling party ceased to preach moderation,
when the tidings of the more general insurrection reached the Convention. It came indeed
from all sides— one cry of alarm. The Convention instantly outlawed every person who
should have taken part with the counter-revolutionists ; the institution of juries was suspended ;
every man taken in arms was to be put to death within four-and-twenly hours ; and the evi-
dence of a single witness before a military commission wag to be considered proof sufficient
Death and confiscation of property were also declared against tb» nobles and priests. The
12
126 HISTORY OF THE
The ill humour of Dumouriez had increased with his reverses. He had
just learned that the army of Holland was retreating in disorder, abandoning
Antwerp and the Scheldt, and leaving the two French garrisons in Breda
and Gertruydenburg ; that d'Harville had not been able to keep the citadel
of Namur, and was falling back upon Givet and Maubeuge ; lastly, that
Neuilly, so far from being able to maintain himself at Mons, had been obliged
to retire upon Conde and Valenciennes, because his division, instead of
taking position on the heights of Nimy, had plundered the magazines and
fled. Thus by the disorders of that army he beheld the frustration of his
plan of forming in Belgium a semicircle of fortresses, which should pass
from Namur into Flanders and Holland, and in the centre of which he meant
to place himself in order to act with the greater advantage. He would soon
have nothing to offer in exchange to the Imperialists, and as he grow weaker
he would sink into dependence upon them. His indignation increased as
he approached France, and had a closer view of the disorders, and heard
the cries raised against him. He no longer used any concealment ; and the
language which he held in the presence of his staff, and which was repeated
in the army, indicated the projects that were fermenting in his head. The
sister of the Duke de Chartres and Madame de Sillery, flying from the pro-
scriptions which threatened them, had repaired to Belgium to seek protection
from the brothers of the former. They were at Ath, and this circumstance
furnished fresh food for suspicion.
Three Jacobin emissaries, one named Dubuisson, a refugee from Brussels,
Proly, a natural son of Kaunitz, and Pereyra, a Portuguese Jew, arrived at
Ath, upon the pretext, whether false or true, of a mission from Lebnin.
They introduced themselves to the general as spies of the government, and
had no difficulty to discover plans which Dumouriez no longer concealed.
They found him surrounded by General Valence and the sons of the Duke
of Orleans, were very uncourteously received, and addressed in language
anything but flattering to the Jacobins and the Convention. Next day, how-
ever, they returned and had a private interview. On this occasion lhunou-
riez expressed himself without reserve. He began by telling them that he
was strong enough to fight in front and rear ; that the Convention was com-
posed of two hundred brigands and six hundred idiots, and that he laughed
at its decrees, whose validity would soon be confined to the district of Paris.
" As for the revolutionary tribunal," he added with rising indignation, " I
effect which this system produced was to madden the Vendeans— cruelties provoked cruel-
ties ; and on their side the burning desire of vengeance was exasperated by conduct on the
part of their enemies more resembling that of infernal agents than of men. It is affirmed
that it was one of their pleasures to burn the cattle alive in their stalls, and that more than
eleven hundred thousand were destroyed by them thus wantonly and in sport Rossignol
offered a reward of ten livres for every pair of royalist ears — it was actually claimed and
paid, and there were men who wore human ears as cockades ! — The insurrection in La
Vendee, according to Hoche's statement, cost the lives of six hundred thousand Frenchmen.
and not a fifth part of the male population was left alive. The state in which these unhappy
provinces were left, may be understood from a single anecdote. Near Chollet there were
extensive bleaching-grounds, the proprietors of which kept a great number of watch-dogs ;
the town, after having been sacked and bumed, was repeatedly disputed, till at length both
parties, weary of contending for a heap of ruins, abandoned it. The dogs, to the number
of four or five hundred, took possession of the ruins, and remained there for many weeks
feeding on the unburied bodies ; after the pacification, when the refugees attempted to return
and rebuild their houses, the animals had become so ferocious, that they attacked and would
have devoured them ; and a battalion of republican soldiers were actuallv obliged to march
against the dogs, and exterminate them, before the place could be reinhabited." — Quarterly
Review. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 127
will find means to put it down, and while I have three inches of steel hy my
side, that monster shall not. exist. He then launehed out against the volun-
teers, whom lie called cowards : he said that he would have none hut the
troops of the line, ami that with them lie would go and put an end to the
disorders in Paris. "Would you do away then with the Constitution ?"
inquired the three interlocutors. " The new constitution devised hy Con-
dorcet is too silly." — " And what will you set up in its place ?" — " The old
1791, bad as it is." — "But then you must have a king, and the name
of Louis is an abomination." — " Whether his name is Louis or Jacques is
of no consequence."— " Or Philippe," added one of the envoys. "But
how will you replace the present Assembly?" Dumouriez considered for a
moment, and then replied : " There are local administrations, all chosen by
the confidence of the nation ; and the five hundred presidents of districts
shall he the live hundred representatives." — "But before their meeting, who
shall have the initiative of this revolution?" — "The Mamalukes, that is,
my army. It will express this wish; the presidents of districts will cause
it to be confirmed, and I will make peace with the coalition, which, unless I
stop it, will be in Paris in a fortnight."
The three envoys, whether, as Dumouriez conceived, they came to sound
him on behalf of the Jacobins, or wished to induce him to reveal still more
of his schemes, then suggested an idea. " Why," said they, " not put the
Jacobins, who are a deliberative body ready prepared, in the place of the
Convention ?" At these words an indignation mingled with contempt over-
spread the face of the general, and they dropped their proposition. They
then spoke to him concerning the danger to which his plan would expose
the Bourbons confined in the Temple, and for whom he appeared to interest
himself. Dumouriez immediately replied that were they to perish to the
very last of them, in Paris and at Coblentz, France would find a chief and
be saved ; that, moreover, if Paris should commit any fresh barbarities on
the unfortunate prisoners in the Temple, he should presently be there, and
that with twelve thousand men he would be master of the city. He should
not imitate the idiot Broglie, who, with thirty thousand men, had suffered
the Bastille to be taken ; but with two posts, at Nogent and Pont St. Max-
ence, he would starve the Parisians. " Your Jacobins," added he, " have
it in their power to atone for all their crimes. Let them save the unfortunate
prisoners and drive out the seven hundred and forty-five tyrants of the Con-
vention, and they shall be forgiven."
His visitors then adverted to his danger. " I shall always have time
enou<rh," said he, to gallop off to the Austrians." — " Would you then share
the fate of Lafayette ?" — " I shall go over to the enemy in a very different
way from what he did ; besides, the powers have a very different opinion
of my talents, and cannot reproach me with the 5th and 6th of October."
Dumouriez had reason not to dread the fate of Lafayette. His talents
were rated too highly, and the firmness of his principles not highly enough,
to cause him to be confined at Olmiitz. The three envoys left him, saying
that they would go and sound Paris and the Jacobins on the subject.
Dumouriez, though he believed his visitors to be staunch Jacobins, had
not on that account expressed his sentiments the less boldly. At this mo-
ment, in fact, his plans became evident. The troops of the line, and the
volunteers watched each other with suspicion, and everything indicated that
he was on the point of hoisting the standard of revolt.
The executive power had received alarming reports, and the committee of
general welfare had proposed and obtained a decree summoning Dumouriez
128 HISTORY OF THE
to the bar. Four commissioners, accompanied by the minister at war, were
directed to proceed to the army to notify the decree, and to bring the gene-
ral to Paris. These four commissioners were Bancal, Quinette, Camus,
and Lamarque.* Beurnonville had joined them, and his part was a difficult
one, on account of the friendship which subsisted between him and Du-
mouriez.
These commissioners set out on the 30th of March. The same day
Dumouriez moved to the field of Bruille, where he threatened at once the
three important fortresses of Lille, Condi', and Valenciennes. He was quite
undecided what course to pursue, for his army was divided in opinion. The
artillery, the troops of the line, and the cavalry, all the organized corps,
appeared to be devoted to him ; but the national volunteers began to murmur,
and to separate themselves from the others. In this situation he had but
one expedient — to disarm the volunteers. But this exposed him to the risk
of a battle, and the issue would be precarious, for the troops of the line might
feel repugnance to slaughter their comrades. Besides, among these volun-
teers there were some who had fought well, and who appeared to be attached
to him. Hesitating as to this measure of severity, he considered how to
make himself master of the three fortresses amidst which he was posted.
By means of them he should have supplies, and a point of support against
Paris, and against the enemy, of whom he still had a distrust. But in
these three places the public opinion was divided. The popular societies,
aided by the volunteers, had there risen against him, and threatened the
troops of the line. At Valenciennes and Lille, the commissioners of the
Convention excited the zeal of the republicans, and in Conde alone the
influence of Neuilly's division gave his partizans the advantage. Among
the generals of division, Dampierre behaved towards him as he had himself
behaved towards Lafayette after the 10th of August, and several others,
without as yet declaring themselves, were ready to abandon him.
On the 3 1 st, six volunteers, having the words Republic or Death written
with chalk upon their hats, met him in his camp, and seemed to entertain a
design to secure his person. Assisted by his faithful Baptiste, he kept them
at bay, and gave them into the custody of his hussars. This occurrence
produced a great sensation in the army ; the different corps presented to him
in the course of the day addresses which renewed his confidence. He
instantly raised the standard, and detached Miaczinsky with a few thousand
men to march upon Lille. Miaczinsky advanced upon that place, and
communicated the secret of his enterprise to St. George, a mulatto, who
commanded a regiment of the garrison. The latter advised Miaczinsky to
enter the town with a small escort. The unfortunate general suffered him-
self to be persuaded, and, no sooner had he entered Lille, Uian he was sur-
rounded and delivered up to the authorities. The gates were closed, and
the division wandered about without commander on the glacis of Lille.
Dumouriez immediately sent an aide-de-camp to rally it. But the aide-de-
camp was taken also, and the division, being dispersed, was lost to him.
After this unfortunate attempt, he made a similar one upon Valenciennes,
• " F. Lamarque was a member of the Convention, and voted for the death of Louis XVI.
He early declared against the Gtrondias, and was sent to the army of the North, with pome
other commissioners, to arrest Dumouriez ; but that general delivered them up to the Prince
of Coburg, and they were kept in confinement by the Austrians till 1795, when they were
exchangee] for the daughter of Louts. In 1800, Lamarque was appointed prefect of the de-
partment of the Tarn, which he hpld till the year 1804, when he was appointed one of the
tribunal of cassation, and decorated with the legionary cross." — Biographic Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 129
where General Ferrand* commanded. That general he thought very fa
vourahly disposed towards him. But the offioer scut to surpri>e the place
betrayed his plans, joined Perrand and the commissioners of the Convention,
and mat fortress also was lost to him. Thus Conde alone was left, l'laced
between France and the enemy, he had but this last point of support. If he
lost that he must submit to the Imperialists, he must put himself entirely
into their hands, and he must run the risk of causing his army to revolt by
directing them to march along with it.
On the 1st of April he transferred his head-quarters to the marshes of St.
Ainand, that he might be nearer to Conde. He ordered Lecointre, son of
the deputy of Versailles, to be arrested, and sent him as an hostage to Tour-
nay, bending Clairfayt, the Austrian, to keep him as a deposit in the citadel.
On the evening of the 2d the four deputies of the Convention, preceded by
Beurnonville, arrived at the quarters of Dumouriez. The Berciny hussars
were drawn up before the door, and all his staff were around him. Du-
mouriez first embraced his friend Beurnonville, and asked the deputies the
object of their mission. They refused to explain themselves before such a
number of officers, whose dispositions appeared to be far from satisfactory,
and wished to step into an adjoining apartment. Dumouriez consented, but
the officers insisted that the door should be left open. Camus then read the
decree, and enjoined him to submit to it. Dumouriez replied that the state
of his army required his presence, and that when it was reorganized he
should see how he ought to act. Camus insisted with emphasis ; but Du-
mouriez replied that he should not be such a dupe as to go to Paris and give
himself up to the revolutionary tribunal ; that tigers were demanding his
head, but he would not give it to them. To no purpose did the four com-
missioners assure him that no harm was intended to his person, that they
would be answerable for his safety, that this step would satisfy the Conven-
tion, and that he should soon return to his army. He would not listen to
anything, beirsred them not to drive him to extremity, and told them that
they had better issue a moderate resolution (arrete) declaring that General
Dumouriez had appeared to them too necessary to be withdrawn from his
army. As he finished these words he retired, enjoining them to come to a
decision. He then went back with Beurnonville to the room where he had
left his staff, and waited among his officers for the resolution (arrete) of the
commissioners. The latter, with noble firmness, came out a moment after-
wards, and repeated their summons. " Will you obey the Convention ?"
said Camus. " No," replied the general. " Well, then," replied Camus,
" you are suspended from your functions ; your papers will be seized, and
your person secured." — " It is too bad !" exclaimed Dumouriez ; " this
way, hussars !" The hussars ran to him, " Arrest these men," said he to
them in German ; " but do them no harm." Beurnonville begged that he
would let him share their fate. " Yes," replied he ; " and I think I am
rendering you a real service. I am saving you from the revolutionary
tribunal."
Dumouriez ordered refreshments to be given to them, and then sent them
off to Tournay, to be kept as hostages by the Austrians. The very next
morning he mounted his horse, issued a proclamation to the army and to
• " P. E. Ferrand. a nobleman, and, during the Revolution, a general of brigade, was born
In 1792 he was employed under Dumouriez, and commanded part of his left
wing at Jemappes. Sometime after he was appointed commander of Mons, and in 1793
defended Valenciennes for eighty-seven days. In 1804 he retired to La Planchette near
Paris, and died there in 1805, at aevenly years of age. — Biographic Mudrrne. L.
VOL. II. 17
130 HISTORY OF THE
Franco, and found in his soldiers, especially those of the line, dispositions
to all appearance the most favourable.
Tidings of all these circumstances had successively reached Paris. The
interview of Dumouriez with Proly, Dubuisson, and Pereyra, his attempts
upon Lille and Valenciennes, and lastly, the arrest of the four commissiu.
were known there. The convention, the municipal assemblies, the popular
societies immediately declared themselves permanent. A reward was offered
for the head of Dumouriez ; and all the relatives of the officers of his army
were apprehended to serve as hostages. Forty thousand men were ordered
to be raised in Paris and the neighbouring towns, for the purpose of covering
the capital, and Dampierre was invested with the chief command of the armv
in Belgium. To these urgent measures had, as on all occasions, been added
calumnies. Dumouriez, Orleans, and the Girondins, were everywhere
classed together, and declared accomplices. Dumouriez was, it was said,
one of those military aristocrats, a member of those old stall's, whose had
principles were continually betraying themselves; Orleans was the fir-
those grandees who had feigned a false attachment for liberty, and who w
unmasking after an hypocrisy of several years ; lastly, the Girondins were
but deputies who had become unfaithful, like all the members of all the right
sides, and who abused their mandates for the overthrow of liberty. Du-
mouriez was only doing a little later what Bouillo and Lafayette had do
little earlier. Orleans was pursuing the same conduct as the other mem ben
the family of the Bourbons had already pursued, and he merely persisted in
the Revolution a little longer than the Count de Provence. The Girondins,
as Maury and Cazales, in the Constituent, Vaublanc and Pattest in the
Legislative Assembly, betrayed their country quite as visibly, bat only at
different periods. Thus Dumouriez, Orleans, Brissot, Vergniaud, Guadet,
Gensonne, &c, all accomplices, were the traitors of the current year.
The Girondins replied by asserting that they had always been hostile to
Orleans, and that it was the party of the Mountain who had defended him ;
that they had quarrelled with Dumouriez, and had no connexion with him :
while, on the contrary, those who had been sent to him into Belgium, 11
who had accompanied him in all his expeditions, those who had nlwaya
shown themselves his friends, and had even palliated his conduct, were Moun-
taineers. Lasource, carrying boldness still farther, had the imprudence to
name Lacroix and Danton, and to accuse them of having checked the zeal
of the Convention by disguising the conduct of Dumouriez. This all*
tion of Lasource roused suspicions already entertained respecting the con-
duct of Lacroix and Danton in Belgium. It was actually asserted that they
had exchanged indulgence with Dumouriez; that he had supported their ra-
pine, and that they had excised his defection. Danton who desired nothing
from the Girondins but silence, was filled with fury, rushed to the tribune,
and swore war against them to the death. " No more peace or truce," he
exclaimed, " between you and us !"* Distorting his fact; in a frightful man-
ner, and shaking his fist at the right side of the Assembly, " I have intrench-
•^'One man alone could have saved the Girondins, but they completely alienated him,
although .Dumouriez had counselled them to keep fair with him. This man was Danton.
To a hideous figure, a heart harsh and violent, much ignorance and coarseness, he united
great natural sense, and a very energetic character. If the Girondins had possessed good
sense enough to have coalesced with him, he would have humbled the atrocious furtion of
Marat, either tamed or annihilated the Jacobins; and perhaps Louis would have been
indebted to him for his life; but the Girondins provoked him, and he sacrificed everything
to his vengeance." — Dumouriez' a Memoirs. K.
J
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 131
ed myself," said he, "in the citadel of reason. I will sally from it frith
the cannon of truth, and grind to powder the villains who have dated to ac-
cuse me."
The result of these reciprocal accusations was : 1. The appointment of a
commission for the purpose of investigating' tfie conduct of the com mi
ers sent to Belgium ; 2. Tha adoption of a decree which was destined to
have fatal consequences, and which purported that, without regard to the
inviolability of representatives, they should be placed under accusation
whenever they were strongly presumed to he guilty of complicity witli the
enemies of the state; 3. Lastly, the apprehension and transfer to the prison
of .Marseilles of Philip of Orleans and all his family. Thus this prince,
the football of all the parties, alternately suspected by the Jacobins and the
Oirondins, and accused of conspiring with everybody because he conspired
with nobody, furnished a proof that no past greatness could subsist amid the
present revolution, and that the deepest and the most voluntary abasement
could neither dispel distrust, nor save from the scaffold.
Dumouriez felt that he had not a moment to lose. Seeing Dampierre and
several trenerals of division about to forsake him, others only waiting for a
favourable opportunity to do so; lastly, a multitude of emissaries busy
among his troops, he thought that it would be well to set them in motion, in
order to enirasje his officers and his men, and to withdraw them from every
other influence but his own. Besides, time pressed, and it became neces-
sarv to act. In consequence, he agreed upon an interview with the Prince
of Coburg, on the morning of the 4th, for the purpose of settling definitely
with him and Colonel Mack the operations which he meditated. The
meeting was to take place near Conde. His intention was to enter the
foil line afterwards, to purge the garrison, and then proceeding with his
whole array upon Oichies, to threaten Lille and endeavour to reduce it by
displaying all his force.
On the morning of the 4th, he set out for the purpose of repairing to the
place of rendezvous and afterwards to Conde. He had ordered an escort of
onlv fifty horse, and, as it did not arrive in time, he started, leaving direc-
tions that it should be sent after him. Thouvenot,* the sons of Orleans,
some officers, and a certain number of attendants, accompanied him. No
sooner was he on the road to Conde than he met two battalions of volun-
teers, whom he was extremely surprised to find there, as he had given no
orders for them to shift their quarters. He was just alighting near a
house to write an order for them to return, when he heard shouts raised, and
the firing of muskets. These battalions were in fact dividing ; some pursued
him, crying " Stop !" others endeavoured to intercept his flight towards a
ditch. He instantly dashed off with those who accompanied him, and dis-
tanced the volunteers who were in pursuit of him. On reaching the edge
of the ditch, his horse refused to leap it, on which he threw himself into it,
and arrived on the other side amidst a shower of shot, and taking the horse
of one of the attendants, he fled at full speed towards Bury. After riding
the whole day, he arrived there in the evening, and was joined by Colonel
Mack, who was apprised of what had happened. He spent the whole eight
in writing and arranging with Colonel Mack, and the Prince of Coburg all
• " Thouvenot possessed much knowledge relative to the details of reconnoitering, en-
camping, and marching ; he possessed also much courage, infinite resources in the time of
action, indefatigable exertion, and extensive views. Lafayette had employed, and placed the
utmost reliance on him." — Dumouriez's Memoirs. E.
132 HISTORY OF THE
the conditions of their alliance, and he astonished them by his intention of
returning to his army after what had occurred.
Accordingly, in the morning, he mounted, and accompanied by some im-
perial horse, returned by way of Maulde to his army. Some troops of the
line surrounded him and still gave him demonstrations of attachment; but
many faces looked very sullen. The news of his flight to Bury, into the
midst of the enemy's armies, and the sight of the imperial dragoons, pro-
duced an impression fatal for him, honourable for our soldiers, and happy
for the fortune of France. He was informed, in fact, that the artillery, on
the tidings that he had gone over to the Austrians, had left the camp, and
that the departure of that very important portion of the army had disheartened
the rest. Whole divisions were proceeding to Valenciennes to join Dam-
pierre. He then found himself obliged to quit his army definitely, and to
go back to the Imperialists. He was followed by a numerous staff*, in which
Avere included the two sons of Orleans, and Thouvenot, and by the Berchiny
hussars, the whole regiment of which insisted on accompanying him.
The Prince of Coburg and Colonel Mack, whose friend he had become,
treated him with great distinction, and wished to renew with him the plans
of the preceding night, by appointing him to the command of a new emi-
grant force which should be of a different character from that of Coblentz.
But, after two days, he told the Austrian prince that it was with the soldiers
of France, and accepting the Imperialists merely as auxiliaries, that he had
hoped to execute his projects against Paris, but that his quality of French-
men forbade him to march at the head of foreigners. He demanded pass-
ports for the purpose of retiring to Switzerland. They were immediately
granted. The high estimate formed of his talents, and the low opinion
entertained of his political principles, gained him favours not shown to I„a-
fayette, who was at this moment expiating his heroic constancy in the dun-
geons of Olmiitz.
Thus terminated the career of that superior man, who had displayed all
sorts of talents, those of the diplomatist, the administrator, and the general ;
every sort of courage — that of the civilian, withstanding the storms of the
tribune, that of the soldier braving the balls of the enemy, that of the com-
mander confronting the most dangerous situations and the perils of the most
daring enterprises ; but who, without principles, without the moral ascen-
dency which they confer, without any other influence than that of genius,
soon spent in that rapid succession of men and circumstances, had resolutely
tried to struggle with the Revolution, and proved, by a strikinir example, that
an individual cannot prevail against a national passion until it is exhausted.
In going over to the enemy, Dumnuriez had not for his excuse either Bou-
ille's aristocratic infatuation or Lafayette's delicacy of principles, for lie had
tolerated all the disorders till the moment when they ran counter to his pro-
jects. By his defection he may fairly be alleged to have hastened the fall of
the Girondins, and the great revolutionary crisis. Yet it must not be forgot-
ten that this man, without attachment to any cause, had the preference of
reason for liberty ; it must not be forgotten that he loved France ; that when
no one believed it possible to withstand the foreign foe, he attempted it. and
relied more upon us than we did upon ourselves; that at St. Menehould he
taught us to face the enemy with coolness ; that at Jemappes he kindled our
ardour and replaced M in the rank of the first-rate powers ; lastly, we must
not forget that if he forsook us it was he who saved us. Moreover, he p
ed a sad old age far away from his country} and one cannot help feeling
deep regret at the sight of a man fifty of whose years were spent in court in-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 133
trigues, and thirty in exile, while three only were occupied on a theatre
worthy of his genius.
Dampierre was invested with the chief command of the army of the North,
and intrenched his troops in the camp of Famars, in such a manner as to bo
able to succour any of our fortresses that might ho threatened. This position
which was strong, and the plan of campaign adopted by the allies, according
to which they had agreed not to penetrate farther until the fortress of Mayence
should be retaken, could not but retard the events of the war in this quarter.
Custine, who, to excuse his own blunders, ^iad never ceased to accuse his
colleagues and the ministers, was favourably heard, when speaking against
Beurnonville, who was regarded as an accomplice of Dumouriez, though de-
livered up to the Austrians, and he obtained the command of the Rhine from
the Vosges and the Moselle to Huninguen. As the defection of Dumouriez
had begun with negotiations, the penalty of death was decreed against any
general who should listen to proposals from the enemy, unless the sovereign-
ty of the people and the republic were previously recognised. Bouchotte*
was then appointed minister at war, and Monge, though highly agreeable to
the Jacobins for his complaisance, was superseded as inadequate to all the
details of that immense department. It was also resolved that three commis-
sioners of the Convention should remain constantly with the armies, and that
one of them should be replaced every month.
At the same time, the project so frequently brought forward, of giving
greater energy to the action of the government by concentrating it in the
Convention, was carried into execution. After various plans, that of a com-
mittee, called the committee of public ivrlfare, was adopted. This commit-
tee, composed of nine members, was to deliberate in private. It was charged
to superintend and to accelerate the action of the executive power; it was
even authorized to suspend its resolutions (arrltes) when it deemed them
contrary to the general interest, with the proviso that it should inform the
Convention of the circumstance ; and to take on all urgent occasions mea-
sures of internal and external defence. The arrctes signed by the authority
of its members were to be instantly carried into effect by the executive power.
It was instituted for one month only, and could not deliver any order of
arrest, unless against actual perpetrators.
The members nominated to compose this committee were Barrere, Del-
mas, Breard.t Cambon, Robert Lindet,t Guyton-Morveaux, Treilhard, and
Lacroix, of Eure and Loire. Though not yet uniting all the powers, this
• " Bouchotte, commandant of Cambray, having long remained in obscurity, was raised
in 1793, to the administration of the war department, in the room of Beurnonville. Having
escaped the perils of the Reign of Terror, he retired to Metz, and was there called to the mu-
ntcifral and elective functions in 1799, He retired from active life in the year 1905." — Bio-
graphic Modem e. E.
j-" Jean Jacques Breard was a landholder at Marennes. In 1791 he was appointed depu-
ty to the Legislative Assembly, was re-elected to the National Convention, and voted for the
death of the King, He was then ap|>ointed president, and soon afterwards a member of the
committee: of public safety. In 17!'.") he entered into the council of ancients, aad retired into
private life in the year 1803." — Biographic Modcnie. E.
"leap Btptieta Robert Lindet, a lawyer, and attorney-syndic of the district of Bernay,
was deputy from Eure to the legislature, where he showed some degree of moderation, but
having; ■fterwvda ronnncfd himself with the party of the Mountain, he was generally oa*>
sidered as one of the nasi wary chiefs of the party. He voted tor the Kmu's death in the
Convention, and proposed a scheme for organizing a revolutionary tribunal. In 1 71)9 he
was summoned t.> the ad ministration of finance, a plure which he retained till the Revolu-
tion of the 18th Brumaire." — Biographic Motif mc. E.
M
134 HISTORY OF THE
committee nevertheless had immense influence. It corresponded with the
commissioners of the Convention, gave them their instructions, and had au-
thority to substitute any measure that it thought fit in place of those of the
ministers. Through Cambon it ruled the finances, and with Danton it could
not fail to acquire the influence of that powerful party-leader. Thus, by the
growing effect of danger, wa< the country urged on towards a dictatorship.
On recovering from the alarm caused by the desertion of Dumouriez, the
parties next began to charge each other with being accomplices in it; and it
was but natural that the stronger should overwhelm the weaker. The sec-
tions, the popular societies, which in general led the way in everything, took
the initiative, and denounced the Girondins in petitions and addresses.
A new society, more violent than any yet existing, had been founded
agreeably to a principle of Marat. He had said that up to that day men
had done nothing but prate about the sovereignty of the people ; that, accord-
ing to this doctrine well understood, each section was sovereign in its own
district, and had a right to recall at any moment the powers that it had iriven.
The most furious agitators, laying hold of this doctrine, had, in fact, pretend-
ed to be deputed by these sections to ascertain the use that was made of these
powers, and to consult upon the public welfare. They met at the Eveehe,
and declared themselves authorized to correspond with all the municipalities
of the republic. In consequence, they called themselves the Central Com-
mittee of Public Welfare. Hence proceeded the most inflammatory propo-
sitions. This committee had resolved to go in a body to the Convention, to
inquire if it possessed the means of saving the country. It had attracted the
notice, not only of the Assembly, but also of the commune of the Jacobins.
Robespierre, who no doubt was glad enough of the consequences of insur-
rection, but who dreaded the means, and who had shown fear at every dis-
turbance, inveighed against the violent resolutions which seemed to be prepar-
ing in these inferior associations, persevered in his favourite policy, which con-
sisted in defaming the deputies, whom he stigmatized as unfaithful, and mining
them in the public opinion, before he had recourse to any other measure
against them. Fond of accusing his opponents, he dreaded the employment
of force, and preferred the contests of the tribunes, which were without
danger, and in which he carried off all the honour.
Marat, who had at times the vanity of moderation as well as all other sorts
of vanity, denounced the society of the Eteche", though he had furnished
the principles upon which it was formed. Commissioners were sent to
ascertain if the members composing it were men of extravagant zeal or bribed
agitators. Having satisfied themselves, that they were merely too zealous
patriots, the society of the Jacobinfl would not exclude them from its bosom,
as had been at first suggested, hut directed a list of them to be made out, for
the purposes of watchinir them; and it proposed a public disapprobation of
their conduct, alleging that there ought not to be any other centre of public
welfar^ than itself. Thus the insurrection of the 10th of April had been
prepared, and condemned beforehand. All those who have not the courage
10 act, all those who are displeased at seeing themselves distanced, disap-
prove the first attempts, though all the while they desire their results. Din-
ton alone maintained profound silence, neither disavowing nor disapproving
'he subordinate agitators. He wras not food of triumphing in the tribune by
long-winded accusations; and preferred the means of action which he :
1 in the highest degree, having at ins beck all the most immoral and
turbulent spirits that Pans contained. It is not known, however, whether
he was acting in secret, but he kept a threatening silence.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 135
Several sections condemned the association at the Evcche, and that of
Mail presented to the convention an energetic petition on the subject. That
of Bonne-Nouvelle came, on the contrary, and read an address in which it
denounced Rrissot, Vergniaud, Guadet, Gensonne, &c, as friends of l)u-
raouriez, and insisted that they ought to be struck by the sword of die law,
After vehement agitation, in a contrary spirit, the petitioners were admitted
to the honours of tbe sitting, but it was declared that thenceforward the As-
sembly would not listen to any accusation against its members, and that
every denunciation of this kind should be addressed to the committee of pub-
lic welfare.
The section of the Halle-au-Ble, which was one of the most violent, drew
up another petition, under the presidency of Marat, and sent it to the Jaco-
bins, to the sections, and to the commune, that it might receive its approba-
tion, and that sanctioned thus by all the authorities of the capital, it might be
solemnly presented by Pache, the mayor, to the Convention. In this peti-
tion carried about from place to place and universally known, it was alleged
that part of the Convention was corrupted, that it conspired with the fore-
st illers, that it was implicated with Dumouriez, and that it ought to be su-
perseded by the commissioners. On the 10th of April, while this petition
was hawking about from section to section, Petion, feeling indignant, de-
sired to be heard on a motion of order. He inveighed with a vehemence,
unusual with him, against the calumnies levelled at a portion of the Conven-
tion, and called for measures of repression. Danton, on the contrary,
claimed honourable mention on behalf of the petition which was preparing.
Petion, still more incensed, proposed that its authors should be sent to the
revolutionary tribunal. Danton replied that upright representatives, strong
in a clear conscience, need not be afraid of calumny ; that it is inevitable in
a republic, and that besides, they had'not yet either repulsed the Austrians
or framed a constitution ; consequently it was doubtful whether the Conven-
tion deserved praise. He afterwards insisted that the Assembly should
cease to pay attention to private quarrels, and that those who deemed them-
selves calumniated ought to appeal to the tribunals. The question was there-
fore disposed of; but Fonfrede brought it forward again, and again it was
set aside. Robespierre, who dearly loved personal quarrels, brought it for-
ward afresh, and demanded permission to rend the veil. He was allowed
to speak, and he began a speech full of the most bitter, the most atrocious
defamation, of the Girondins in which he had ever indulged. We must no-
tice this speech, which shows in what colours his gloomy mind painted the
conduct of his enemies.
According to him there existed below the aristocracy dispossessed in 1789,
a burgher aristocracy, as vain and as despotic as the preceding, and whose
treasons succeeded those of the nobility. A frank revolution did not suit this
class, and it wanted a king with the constitution of 1791, to assure its domi-
nation. The Girondins were its leaders. Under the Legislative Assembly,
they had secured the ministerial departments by means of Roland, Clavieres,
and Servan. After they had lost them, they endeavoured to revenge them-
selves by the 20th of June ; and on the eve of the 10th of August, they were
treating with the court, and offering peace, upon condition that the power
should be restored to them. On the 10th of August itself, they were content
to suspend the King without abolishing royalty, and appointed a imvernor
for the prince-royal. After the 10th, they seized the ministerial depart-
mei. udered the commune, for the purpose of mining its influence
and securing an exclusive sway. When the Convention was formed, they
136 HISTORY OF THE
made themselves masters of the committees, continued to calumniate Paris
and to represent that city as the focus of all crimes, and they perverted the
public opinion by means of their journals, and by the immense sums which
Roland devoted to the circulation of the most perfidious writings. L:istlv,
in January they opposed the death of the tyrant, not out of attachment to his
person, but out of attachment to royalty. This faction, continued fto
pierre, is the only cause of the disastrous war which we arc at this moment
waging. It desires it, in order to expose us to the invasion of Austria, which
promised a congress, with the burgher constitution of 1791. It has directed
it with perfidy, and, after employing the traitor Lafayette, it h em*
ployed the traitor Dumouricz, to attain the end which it has been so tofcg
pursuing. At first it feigned a quarrel with Dumouricz, but the qu
not serious, for it formerly placed him in the ministry by means of his friend
Gensonne, and caused him to be allowed six millions, for -
money. Dumouriez, in concert with it, saved the Prussians in the Argo
when he might have annihilated them.* In Belgium, it is true, lie gain
great victory, but it required an important success to obtain the public confi-
dence, and, once obtained, he abused it in every possible way. He did not
invade Holland, which he might have conquered in the very first campaign ;
he prevented the union of the conquered countries with France, and the di-
plomatic committee, in unison with him, omitted nothing to keep away the
Belgian deputies who demanded the union. Those envoys of the executive
power, whom Dumouriez had so harshly treated 'because they annoyed ihe
Belgians, were all chosen by the Girondins ; and they contrived to send
disorganizers whose conduct could not fail to be publicly condemned, in
order to dishonour the republican cause. Dumouriez, after making, when
too late, an attack upon Holland, returned to Belgium, lost the battle of
Neerwinden, and it was Miranda, the friend and the creature of Petion, who
by his retreat decided the loss of that battle. Dumouriez then fell b
and raised the standard of revolt at the very moment when the faction
exciting the insurrections of royalism in the West. All was therefore pre-
pared for this moment. A perfidious minister had been ^placed in the vvir
department for this important circumstance. The committee of general
safety composed of all the Girondins, excepting seven or eiirht faithful depu-
ties, who did not attend its meeting*, — this committee did nothing to prevent
the public dangers. Thus nothing had been neglected for the success of the
conspiracv. A king was wanted : but all the generals belonged to Kiralite.
The Egalite family was collected around Dumouriez ; his sons, his daughter,
ay even the intriguing Sillery, were along with him. Dumouriez bejran by
manifestoes, and what did he say ? — all that the orators and the writers of
the faction said in the tribune and in the newspapers; that the Convention
was composed of villains, with the exception of a small sound portion: that
Paris was the focus of all sorts of crimes; that the Jacobins were disor
izers who excited disturbance and civil war.
Such was the manner in which Robespierre accounted as well for the de-
fection of Dumouriez, aa for the opposition of the Girondins. After he had
at great length developed this artful tissue of calumnies, he propose!! to send
• "The Jacoliinu endeavoured to convert nil Dumourieii's proceedings into bo many
crimes. Even the retreat of the Prussian! served as the foundation of a thousand f -ildes.
After imagining that he had released himself from his embarrassments bj deceiving tin- i
sians, the moment the Jacobin*, learned the dismal state of the enemy's army, ami
it saved, they attributed the excellence of its retreat to a collusion between Dumouricz and
the King of Prussia." — Dumouricz's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 137
to the revolutionary tribunal the accomplices of Dumouriez, all the members
of the Orleans family and their friends. •• As for the deputies Guadet, Gen-
sonne*, Vergniaud, &c, it would be," said be, with malicious irony, "a sa-
crilege to accuse such upright men ; and feeling my impotence in regard to
them, 1 leave them to the wisdom of the Assembly."
The tribunes and the Mountain applauded their virtuous orator. The
Girondina were incensed at this infamous system, in which a perfidious
hatred had as large a share as a natural distrust of disposition ; for there was
in this speech an extraordinary art in combining facts and obviating objec-
tions ; and Robespierre had displayed in this base accusation more real talent
than in all his ordinary declamations. Vergniaud rushed to the tribune and
demanded permission to speak, with such vehemence, earnestness, and reso-
lution, that it was granted, and that the tribunes and the Mountain at length
left it to him undisturbed. To the premeditated speech of Robespierre he
opposed one delivered on the spur of the moment, with the warmth of the
most eloquent and the most innocent of men.
lie would presume, he said, to reply to Monsieur Robespierre, and he
would not employ i ither time or art in his reply, for he needed nothing but
his soul. He would not speak for himself, for he knew that in times of
revolution the dregs of nations are stirred up, and for a moment rise above
the good, but in order to enlighten France. His voice, which more than
once had struck terror into that palace from which he had assisted to hurl
tyranny, should carry terror also into the souls of the villains who were de-
sirous of substituting their own tyranny for that of royalty.
He then replied to every inculpation of Robespierre, what any one may
reply from the mere knowledge of the facts. By his speech in July, he
provoked the dethronement of the King. Shortly before the 10th of Au-
gust, doubting the success of the insurrection, not even knowing whether it
would take place, he pointed out to an agent of the court what it ought to do
in order to reconcile itself with the nation and to save the country. On the
10th of August, he was sitting in his place amidst the thunder of cannon,
while Monsieur Robespierre was in a cellar. He had not caused the de-
thronement to be pronounced, because the combat was doubtful, and he pro-
posed the appointment of a governor for the dauphin, because in case royalty
should succeed in maintaining itself, a good education given to the young
prince might insure the future happiness of France. Himself and his friends
caused war to be declared, because it was already begun, and it was better to
declare it openly and to defend oneself, than to suffer without making it.
He and his friends were appointed to the ministry and upon committees by
the public voice. In the commission of twenty-one, in the Legislative As-
sembly, they opposed the suggestion for leaving Paris, and it was they who
prepared the means which France displayed in the Argonne. In the com-
of general safety of the Convention, they had laboured assiduously,
and before the faces of their colleagues who, if they pleased, might have
witnessed all their proceedings. Robespierre had deserted it, and never
made his appearance there. They had not calumniated Paris, but combated
the murderers who usurped the name of Parisians, and disgraced Paris and
the republic. They had not perverted the public opinion, since, for his own
part, he had not written a single letter, and what Roland had circulated was
well known to everybody, lie and his friends demanded the appeal to the
people on the trial of Louis XVI., because they were of opinion that, on so
important a question, the national adhesion could not be dispensed with.
For his own part, he scarcely knew Dumouriez, and had seen him but twice:
VOL. II. — 18 M 2
13S HISTORY OF THE
the first time on his return from the Argonne ; the second on his return from
Belgium; hut Danton arid Santerre saw him, congratulated him, covered
li i in with caresses, and made him dine with them every day. As for Ega-
lite, he had just as little acquaintance with him. The Mountaineers alone
knew and associated with him; and whenever the Girondins attacked him,
the Mountaineers invariahly stood forward in his defence. What then could
he and his friends be reproached with! Underhand dealings, intrigues?
. . . But they did not run to the sections to stir them up. They did not
fill the tribunes to extort decrees by terror. They never would suffer the
ministers to be taken from among the assemblies of which they wen; mem-
bers. Or were they accused of being moderates ? . . . But they were not
so on the 10th of August, when Robespierre and Marat were biding them-
selves. They were so in September when the prisoners were murdered and
the Garde-Meuble was plundered.
" You know," said Vergniaud in conclusion, " whether I have endured
in silence the mortifications heaped upon me during the last six months,
whether I have sacrificed to my country the most just resentments ; you
know whether upon pain of cowardice, upon pain of confessing myself
guilty, upon pain of compromising the little good that I am still allowed to
do, I could have avoided placing the impostures and the malignity of Robes-
pierre in their true lijrht. May this be the last day wasted by us in scan-
dalous debates !" Vergniaud then moved that the section of the Halle-au-
Ble should be summoned and desired to bring its registers.
The talent of Vergniaud had captivated his very enemies. His sincerity,
his touching eloquence, had interested and convinced the great majority of
the Assembly, and the warmest testimonies of approbation were lavished
upon him on all sides. Guadet desired to be heard, but, at sight of him, the
Mountain, before silent, became agitated, and sent forth horrid yells. He
nevertheless obtained in his turn permission to reply, and he acquitted him-
self in such a manner as to excite the passions much more powerfully than
Vergniaud had done. None, he admitted, had conspired ; but appearances
were much stronger against the Mountaineers and the Jacobins, who had
been in connexion with Dumouriez and Effalite, than against the Girondins,
who had quarrelled with both. " Who," exclaimed Guadet, " who was
with Dumouriez at the Jacobins, at the theatres ? Your Danton." — " Aha !
dost thou accuse me?" rejoined Danton; "thou knowest not my power."
The conclusion of Guadet's speech was deferred till the following day.
He continued to fix all conspiracy, if then' were any, on the Mountain
He finished with reading an address, which, like that of the Halle-aux-Blee,
was signed by Marat. It was from the Jaeobtns, and Marat had signed it
as president of the society. It contained these words, which Guadet
to the Assembly ; "Citizens, let us arm. Counter-revolution is in the
government; it is in the bosom of the Convention. Citizens, let us ra
thither, let us march !"
'•Yes," cried Marat from his place, " yes. let us march!" At these
words the Assemblv rose, and demanded a decree of accusation against
Marat. Danton opposed it, saying that the members on both sides of the
Assembly appeared to agree upon accusing the family of Orleans, that it
OUght, therefore, to be sent before the tribunals, but, as f>r Marat, he could
not be placed under accusation for an expression which had escaped him
amidst a stormy discussion. Some one replied that the family of Orb
oupht not to be tried in Paris, hut at Marseilles. Danton would have con-
tinued, hut, without listening to him, the Assembly gave the priority to the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 139
cusation against Marat, and Lacroix moved that lie should ho
immediately apprehended. " Since my enemies have lost all modi
cried .Marat, "1 demand one thing; the Mecree is calculated t<> excite a
commdtion ; let two gendarmes accompany me to the Jacobins, that I
may go aiul recommend peace to them." Without listening to these ridicu-
lous .-allies, the Assembly ordered him to he taken into custody, and directed
that the act of accusation should he prepared by noon the next day.
Robespierre hastened to the Jacobins to express Ids indignation, to praise
the energy of Danton, and the moderation of Marat, and to recommend to
them to he calm, that people might not have to say that Paris rose to libe-
Jacobin.
On the next day the act of accusation was read and approved by the As-
sembly, ami the accusation so frequently proposed against Marat, was seri-
| prosecuted before the revolutionary tribunal.*
It was an intended petition against the Girondins that had produced these
violent altercations between the two sides of the Assembly; but nothing had
been enacted on the subject, neither, indeed, was it possible to enact any-
thing, since the Assembly had not the power to check the commotions pro-
duced by the petitions. The project of a general address from all the sec-
tions had been prosecuted with activity ; the particular form of it had been
determined upon; out of the forty-three sections, thirty-five had adopted it;
the general council of the commune had approved it ; and, on the 15th, the
commissioners of die thirty-five sections, with Pache, the mayor, at their
head, appeared at the bar. It might be considered as the manifesto in which
the commune of Paris declared its intentions, and threatened insurrection
in case of refusal. So it had done before the 10th of August, so it again
did on the eve of the 31st of May. The address was read by Real, procureur
of the commune. After dwelling upon the criminal conduct of a certain
number of deputies, the petition prayed for their expulsion from the Con-
vention, and named them one after another. There were twenty-two :
•. Guadet, Vergniaud, Gensonnl, Grange-Weave, Buzot, Barbaroux,
Salles, Biroteau, Ponteooulant, Potion, Lanjuinais, Valaze*, Hardy, Louvet,
Lehardy, Gtorsas, Gauchet, J.anthenas, Lasource, Valady, and Ohambon.
The reading of these names drew forth applause from the tribunes. The
lent informed the petitioners that the law required them to sign their
petition. They instantly complied. Pache alone, striving to prolong liis
neutrality, hung back, lie was asked for his signature, but replied that ho
was not one id' the petitioners, and had only been directed by the general
council to accompany them. Put, perceiving that it was impossible for him
to recede, he advanced and signed the petition. The tribunes rewarded him
with boisterous applause.
Boyer-Foafrede immediately wont up to the tribunes, and said that, if
modesty were not a duty, he would beg to be added to the glorious list of
the twenty-two deputies. The majority of the Assemblv, impelled by a
(mi emotion, cried. *« Put US all down, all!" and then surrounded the
twenty-two deputies, embracing them, and giving them the most expressive
• "The Convention felt the necessity of making an effort to resist the inflammatory pro-
ceedings of ihfi Jacobins. By a united effort of the Girondins ami the neutral party, Marat
• for trial to. the Revolutionary Trihunal, on the charge of having instigated the peo-
ple t<i demand the punishment of the National Representatives, This v\ns the first instance
of the inviolability of the Convention being broken in upon; and as such, it afforded an
unfortunate precedent, which the sanguinary Jacobins were not slow in following." —
Ali»on. E.
140 HISTORY OF THE
tokens of sympathy. The discussion, interrupted by this scene, was ad-
journed to the following days.
On the appointed day the subject was accordingly brought forward. Re-
proaches and justification recommenced between the two sides of the Assem-
bly. Some deputies of the centre took occasion, from letters written on the
state of the armies, to propose that they should direct their attention to the
general interests of the republic, and not waste their time on private quar-
rels. The Assembly assented ; but on the 18th, a fresh petition against the
right side caused that of the thirty-five sections to be again brought forward.
Various acts of the commune were at the same time denounced. By one it
declared itself in a continual state of revolution, and by another it appointed
within its bosom a committee of correspondence with all the municipalities
in the realm. It had, in fact, been long striving to give to its purely local
authority a character of generality, that would permit it to speak in the name
of France, and enable it to rival the authority of the Convention. The
committee of the Eveche, dissolved on the recommendation of the Jacobins,
had also had for its object to put Paris in communication with all the other
towns ; and now the commune was desirous of making amends by organ-
izing that correspondence in its own bosom. Vergniaud addressed the As-
sembly, and, attacking at once the petition of the thirty-five sections, the
acts imputed to the commune, and the designs revealed by its conduct,
moved that the petition should be declared calumnious, and that the munici-
pality should be required to bring its registers to the Assembly, to show
what resolutions (arrites) it had passed. These propositions were adopted,
in spite of the tribunes and the left side. At this moment the right side,
supported by the Plain, began to sway all the decisions. It baa caused
Lasource, one of the most ardent of its members, to be appointed president ;
and it had again the majority, that is, the legality, a feeble resource against
strength, and which serves at best but to irritate it the more.
The municipal officers summoned to the bar, came boldly to submit the
registers of their deliberations, and seemed to expect the approbation of their
resolutions (arretes). These registers purported; 1. That the general
council declared itself in a state of revolution, so long as supplies of provi-
sions were not insured ; 2. That the committee of correspondence with the
forty-four thousand municipalities should be composed of nine members, and
put immediately in activity ; 3. That twelve thousand copies of the petition
against the twenty-two should be printed and distributed by the committee
of correspondence ; 4. Lastly, that the general council would consider the
blow aimed at itself, when any of its members, or when a president or se-
cretary of a section or of a club, should be prosecuted for their opinions.
This last resolution had been adopted for the purpose of screening Marat
who was accused of having, as president of a section, signed a seditious
address.
The commune, as we see, resisted the Assembly foot to foot, and on each
debated point adopted a decision contrary to that of the latter. If the ques-
tion related to the supply of necessaries, it immediately constituted itself in
a state of revolution, if violent means were rejected. If it related to Marat,
it covered him with its shield. If it related to the twenty-two, it appealed
to the forty-four thousand municipalities, and placed itself in correspond*
with them, for the purpose of demanding from them, as it were, general
powers against the Convention. The opposition was complete at all points,
and accompanied moreover by preparations for insurrection.
No sooner was the reading of the registers finished, than the younger
■
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 141
nanded the honours of the sitting lor the municipal officers.
The right side opposed mis: the Plain hesitated, and said that it might per-
haps be dangerous t<> lower magistrates in the estimation of the people by
refusing them s customary honour, which was not denied even to the hum*
blest petitioners. Amidst these tumultuous debates, the sitting was pro-
longed till eleven at night; the right side and the Plain withdrew, and one
hundred and forty-three members only remained with the Mountain to admit
Parisian municipalities to the honours of the sitting. • On one and the
same day declared guilty of calumny, repulsed by the majority, and admit-
ted to the honours of the sitting by the Mountain and the tribunes, it could
not fail to be deeply exasperated, and to become the rallying-point for all
those who wished to break down the authority of the Convention.
Marat had, at length, been brought before the revolutionary tribunal, and
it was not by the energy of the right side, which had as it were carried the
Plain along with it, that his accusation had been decided upon. But
every energetic movement, while it is honourable to, only precipitates the
ruin of a party struggling against a superior movement. The Girondins, by
their courageous prosecution of Marat, had only prepared a triumph for him.
The act purported in substance that Marat, having in his papers encouraged
murder, carnage, the degradation and dissolution of the National Conven-
tion, and the establishment of a power destructive of liberty, was decreed to
be under accusation, and delivered over to the revolutionary tribunal. The
Jacobins, the Cordeliers, all the agitators of Paris had set themselves in
motion in behalf of this austere philosopher, " formed," they said, " by ad-
versity and meditation, combining great sagacity and a deep knowledge of
the human heart with a soul of fire, and whose penetration discovered the
traitors in their triumphal car, at the moment when the stupid herd were yet
offering them incense ! The traitors," cried they, " will pass away, while
the reputation of Marat is only commencing !"
Though the revolutionary tribunal was not then composed as it was at a
later period, still Marat could not be condemned by it. The discussion
lasted only a few moments. The accused was unanimously acquitted,
amidst the applause of a numerous concourse assembled to witness his trial.
This was the 24th of April. He was immediately surrounded by a mob,
composed of women, sans-culottes with pikes, and detachments of the armed
sections. They laid hold of him, and set out for the Convention, to replace
him in his seat as deputy. Two municipal officers opened the procession.
Marat, lifted in the arms of some sappers, his brow encircled by a wreath
of oak, was borne in triumph to the middle of the hall. A sapper stepped
forward from the crowd, presented himself at the bar, and said, " Citizen
president, we bring you the worthy Marat. Marat has always been the
friend of the people, and the people will always be the friends of Marat.
If Marat's head must fall, the head of the sapper shall fall first." As he
uttered these words, the grim petitioner brandished his axe, and the tribunes
applauded with tumultuous uproar. He demanded permission for the escort
to file off through the hall. " I will consult the Assembly," replied La-
source, the president, dismayed at this hideous scene. But the crowd would
not wait till he had consulted the Assembly, and rushed from all sides into
the hall. Men and women poured in pell-mell, and took the seats left
vacant by the departure of the deputies disgusted at the seme. Marat,
transferred from hand to hand, was hailed with applause; From iIh: arms
of the petitioners he passed into those of his colleagues of the Mountain,
and he was embraced with the strongest demonstrations of joy. At length,
>^F
142 HISTORY OF THE
he tore himself away from his colleagues, ran to the tribune and declared to
the legislators that he came to offer them a pure heart, a justified name, and
that he was ready to die in defence of liberty and the rights of the people.
New honours awaited the Jacobins. The women bad prepared a great
number of crowns. The president offered him one. A child about four
years old, mounted on the bureau, placed another upon his head. Marat
pushed away the crowns with an insolent disdain. " Citizens," said he,
" indignant at seeing a villanous faction betraying the republic, I endeavoured
to unmask it, and to put the rope alwut its neck. It resisted me by launch-
ing against me a decree of accusation. I have come off victorious. The
faction is humbled, but not crushed. Waste not your time in decreeing
triumphs. Defend yourselves with enthusiasm. I lay upon the bureau the
two crowns which have been just presented to me, and I invite my fellow-
citizens to await the end of my career before they decide."
Numerous plaudits hailed this impudent modesty. Robespierre was pre-
sent at this triumph, the too mean and too popular character of which lie no
doubt disdained. He, too, however, was destined to feel, like any other,
the vanity of the triumpher. The rejoicings over, the Assembly hastened
to return to the ordinary discussion, that is to say, the means of purifying
the government, and expelling from it the traitors, the Rolandists, the I'
sotins, &c. For this purpose it was proposed to draw up a list of the per-
sons employed in all the departments of the administration, and to mark such
as had deserved to be dismissed. «.« Send me that list," said Marat, "I will
pick out such as ought to be dismissed and retained, and signify the result to
the ministers." Robespierre made an observation; he said that the ministers,
were almost all accomplices of the culprits ; that they would not listen to the
society ; that it would be better to address themselves to the committee of
public safety, placed by its functions above the executive council, and that
moreover the society could not without compromising itself communicate
with ministers who were guilty of malversation. " These reasons are frivo-
lous," replied Marat, with disdain; "a patriot so pure as myself* mi<j;lit
communicate with the devil. I will address myself to the ministers, and
summon them to satisfy us, in the name of the society."
A respectful consideration always surrounded the eloquent Robespierre ;
but the audacity, the insolent cynicism of Marat, astonished and struck every
enthusiastic mind. His hideous familiarity attached to him some sturdy
market-porters, who were flattered by this intimacy with the friend of the
people, and who were always ready to lend his puny person the aid of th-ir
arms and their influence in the public places.
The anger of the Mountain was excited by the obstacles which it had to
encounter; but these obstacles were much greater in the provinces than in
Paris; and the disappointments which its commissioners, sent to forward the
recruiting, met with on their way, soon increased its irritation to the highest
pitch. All the provinces were most favourably disposed towards the Kevo-
lution, but all had not embraced it with equal ardour, or signalized themselves
by so many excesses as the city of Pans. It is always idle ambition, ardent
minds, superior talents, that are die first to engage in revolutions. A capital
• "There can lie little doubt that Marat regarded himself as the apostle of lilnrty, and the
more undeniably wrong he was, the more infallible he thought himself. Others had more
delight in the actunl spilling of blood ; no one else had the same disinterested and ilitmaH
confidence in the theory. He might be placed almost at the head of a class that exist at all
times, but only break out in times of violence and revolution ; who form crime into a code,
and proclaim conclusions that make the hair of others stand on end." — Huzlitt. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 143
always contains a larger portion of them than the provinces, became it is the
rendezvous of all those, who, from Independence or ambition, abandon the
soil, the profession, and the traditions of their fathers. Paris of course con-
tained the neatest number of revolutionists. Situated, moreover, at no gteafl
distance from the frontiers, the aim of all the enemy's blows, it had Men
exposed to greater danger than any city in France. The seal of the authori-
ties, it had seen all the great questions discussed in its bosom. Thus
danger, discussion, everything, had concurred to produce in it excitement
and excess.
The provinces, which had not the same motives for agitation, beheld these
excesses with horror, and had participated in the sentiments of the right side
and of the Plain. Dissatisfied more especially with the treatment experi-
enced by their deputies, they imagined that they discovered in the capital
not only revolutionary exaggeration, but also the ambition to rule Prance, as
Rome ruled the conquered provinces.
Such were the feelings with which the quiet, industrious, moderate mass,
regarded the revolutionists of Paris. These dispositions, however, were
more or less strongly expressed according to local circumstances. Each pro-
vince, each city, had also its hot-headed revolutionists, because in all places
there are adventurous spirits, and ardent characters. Almost all the nun of
this stamp had made themselves masters of the municipalities, and to this
end they had availed themselves of the general renewal of the authorities
ordered by the Legislative Assembly after the 10th of August. The inactive
and moderate mass always gives way to the more bustling, and it was natural
that the most violent spirits should possess themselves of the municipal func-
tions, the most difficult of all, and those which require most zeal and activity.
The great number of the peaceable citizens had withdrawn into the sections,
which they sometimes attended, to give their votes, and to exercise their
civil rights. The departmental functions had been conferred on persons
possessing either the most wealth or the most consideration, and, for that
very reason, the least active and the least energetic of men. Thus all the hot
revolutionists were intreuched in the municipalities, while the middling and
wealthy mass occupied the sections and the departmental functions.
The commune of Paris, feeling this position, had resolved to put itself in
correspondence with all the municipalities. Hut, as we have seen, it had
been prevented by the Convention. The parent society of the Jacobins had
made amends for this by its own correspondence, and the connexion which
could not yet be established between municipality and municipality, existed
between club and club, which amounted to nearly the same thing; for the
same men who deliberated in the Jacobin clubs afterwards went to act in the
general councils of the communes. Thus the whole Jacobin party of France,
collected in the municipalities and in the clubs, corresponding from one ex-
tremity of the country to the other, found itself arrayed against the middling
mass, an immense mass, but divided into a multitude of sections, not exercis-
ing active functions, not correspondim: from city to city, forming here and
there a few moderate clubs, and assembling occasionally in the sections, or
in the departmental councils, to give an uncertain and timid vote.
It was this difference of position that encouraged the revolutionists to hope
that they could control the mass of the population. This mass admitted the
republic, but desired it without its excesses; and at the moment it had still
the advantage in all the provinces. Since tin- municipalities, armed with a
terrible police, having authority to pay domiciliary visits, to seek out
foreigners, to disarm suspected persons, could annoy the peaceable citizens
*44 HISTORY OF THE
with impunity, the sections had endeavoured to effect a reaction ; and they
had joined for the purpose of curbing the municipalities. In almost all the
towns of France they had plucked up a little courage ; they were in arms ;
they resisted the municipalities, inveighed against their inquisitorial police,
supported the right side, and together with it demanded order, peace, and
respect of person and property. The municipalities and the Jacobin clubs
demanded, on the contrary, new measures of police, and the institution of
revolutionary tribunals in the departments. The people of certain towns
were ready to come to blows upon these questions. The sections, however,
were so strong in number, that they counteracted the energy of the munici-
palities. The Mountaineer deputies sent to forward the recruiting and to
rekindle the revolutionary zeal, were dismayed at this resistance, and filled
Paris with their alarms.
Such was the state of almost all France, and the manner in which it was
divided. The conflict was more or less violent, and the parties were more
or less menacing, according to the position and dangers of each town.
Where the dangers of the Revolution were greater, the Jacobins were more
inclined to use violent means, and consequently the moderate mass was
more disposed to resist them. But it was not the military danger that most
exasperated the revolutionary passions. It was the danger of domestic trea-
son. Thus, on the northern frontier, threatened by the enemy's armies,
and not much wrought upon by intrigue, people were tolerably unanimous ;
their minds were intent on the common defence ; and the commissioners
sent to all parts between Lille and Lyons had made the most satisfactory
reports to the Convention. But at Lyons, where secret machinations con-
curred with the geographical and military position of the city to render the
peril greater, storms had arisen as terrible as those which had burst upon
Paris.
From its eastern situation and its vicinity to Piedmont, Lyons had always
attracted the notice of the counter-revolutionists. The first emigrants at
Turin had projected a movement there in 1790, and even sent a French
prince to that city. Mirabeau had also planned one in his way. After the
great majority of emigrants had removed to Coblentz, an agent had been
left in Switzerland, to correspond with Lyons, and, through Lyons, with
the camp of Jales and the fanatics of the South. These machinations had
produced a reaction of Jacobinism, and the royalists had caused Mountaineers
to spring up in Lyons. The latter had a club called the central club, com-
posed of envoys from all the clubs of the quarter. At their head was a
Piedmontese, whom a natural restlessness of disposition had driven from
country to country, and at length fixed at Lyons, where he owed his revo-
lutionary ardour to his having been successively appointed municipal officer.
and president of the civil tribunal. His name was Chalier,* and he had held
• " M. J. Chalier, an extravagant Jacobin, an inhabitant of Lyons, waa born in 1717, at
Beautard, in Dauphine, of a Piedmontese family, who returned to their native country, where
he was educated. He embraced the ecclesiastical profession, was driven from his country,
and, after having narrowly escaped the gibbet in Portugal, and again in Naples, he went to
Lyons, was received into the family of a merchant as a preceptor, said mas* in that town for
about two years, and at last went into business, in which he accumulated a considerable for-
tune by dishonesty and trick. He joined the revolutionary party with an enthusiasm bor-
dering on madness ; and went to Paris, where he spent aix months with Marat to profit by
his lessons. On his return to Lyons he was appointed municipal ollicer, and all his colleague*
were ready to second his fury. The mayor alone sought to oppose their efforts. Twelve hun-
dred citizens had been imprisoned. Chalier, despairing of their condemnation, appeared m
1793, in the central society, with a poniard in his hand, and obtained a decree that a tribunal,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 145
in the central club such language as at the Jacobins in Paris would have
caused him to be accused by .Marat of tending to convulse everything, and
for being in die nay of foreigners. Besides tins club, the Lyonnese Moun-
taineers had (he whole municipality, excepting Niviere, the mayor, a friend
and disciple of Roland, and head of the Girondin party at Lyons. Weary
of so much dissension, Niviere had, like Petion, resigned his office, and
like l'etion, been re-elected by the sections, more powerfully and more
energetic at Lyons than anywhere else in France. Out of eleven thousand
voters, nine thousand had obliged Niviere to resume the functions of mayor;
hut he had again resigned, and this time the Mountaineer municipality had
succeeded in completing itself by effecting the election of a mayor of its
choice. On this occasion the party had come to blows. The youth of the
sections had driven Chalier from the central club, and gutted the hall in
which he vented his fanaticism. The department had sent in alarm for the
commissioners of the Convention, who, by first censuring the sections and
then the excesses of the commune, had displeased all parlies, been de-
nounced by the Jacobins, and recalled by the Convention. Their task had
been confined to awarding compensation to the central club, affiliating it
with the Jacobins, and, without abridging its energy, ridding it of some too
impure members. In the month of May, the irritation had reached its great-
est height. On the one hand, the commune, composed entirely of Jacobins,
and the central club, with its president, Chalier, demanded a revolutionary
tribunal for Lyons, and paraded through the public places a guillotine which
had been procured from Paris, and which was exposed to public view to
strike terror into traitors and aristocrats ; while, on the other, the sections,
in arms, were ready to curb the municipality, and to prevent the establishment
of the sanguinary tribunal, from which the Girondins had not been able to
save the capital. In this state of things, the secret agents of royalty scat-
tered in Lyons, awaited the favourable moment for turning to account the
indignation of the Lyonnese, which was ready to break forth.
In all the rest of the South, as far as Marseilles, the moderate republican
spirit prevailed in a more equal manner, and the Girondins possessed the
undivided love of the country. Marseilles was jealous of the supremacy of
Paris, incensed at the insults offered to Barbaroux, its favourite deputy, and
ready to rise against the Convention, if the national representation were
attacked. Though wealthy, it was not situated in an advantageous manner
for the counter-revolutionists abroad ; for it bordered only upon Italy, where
nothing was hatching, and its port did not interest the English like that of
Toulon. Secret machinations had consequently not excited such alarm there
as in Lyons and Paris: and the municipality, feeble and threatened, was
near being stipplanted by the all-powerful sections. Moise Bayle, the deputy,
who was very coldly received, had found great ardour for the recruiting, but
absolute devotedness to the Gironde.
From the Rhone in the East to the shores of the Ocean on the West, fifty
or sixty departments entertained the same dispositions. At Bordeaux, lastly,
similar to those at Paris which had committed the September massacres, should be esta-
blished on the quay St. Clair, with a guillotine, that nine hundred persons should thero be
executed, and their bodies thrown into the Rhone, and that in case executioners should be
wanting, that the members of the society should themselves perform this office. The mayor,
at the head of the armed force, prevented this horrible execution ; but he could not obtain the
trial of several members who had been seized. The people of Lyons, irritated at length by
such tyranny, raised the standard of war against the Convention, and delivered Chalier to a
tribunal which condemned him to death in 1793." — Biographic Moderne. E.
vol. ii.— 19 N
140 HISTORY OF THE
the unanimity was complete. There, the sections, the municipality, the
principal club, everybody, in short, agreed to resist Mountaineer violence,
and to support that glorious deputation of the Gironde to which this portion
of France was so proud of having given birth. The adverse party had found
an asylum in a single section only, and everywhere else it was powerless and
doomed to silence. Bordeaux demanded neither maximum nor provisions,
nor revolutionary tribunal, prepared petitions against the commune of Paris,
and battalions for the service of the republic.
But along the coast of the Ocean, extending from the Gironde to the Loire,
and from the Loire to the mouths of the Seine, were to be found very differ-
ent dispositions and very different dangers. There the implacable Mountain
had not only to encounter the mild and generous republicanism of the Giron-
dins, but the constitutional royalism of 1789, which repelled the republic as
illegal, and the fanaticism of the feudal times, which was armed against the
Revolution of 1793 as well as against the Revolution of 1789, and which
acknowledged only the temporal authority of the gentry and the spiritual
authority of the church.
In Normandy, and particularly at Rouen, its principal city, there v
feeling of strong attachment to Louis XVL, and the constitution of 1790 had
gratified all the wishes that were formed for liberty and the throne. E
since the abolition of royalty and the constitution of 1790, that is, since the
10th of August, a condemnatory and threatening silence had prevailed in
Normandy. Bretagne exhibited still more hostile sentiments, and the people
there were engrossed by fondness for the priests and the gentry. Nearer to
the banks of the Loire, this attachment amounted to insurrection ; and lastly,
on the left bank of that river, in the Bocage, Le Loroux, and La Vendee,
the insurrection was complete, and large armies of ten and twenty thousand
men were already in the field.
This is the proper place for describing that singular country, ec
with a population so obstinate, so heroic, so unfortunate, and so fatal to
France, which it nearly ruined by a mischievous diversion, and the calami-
ties of which it aggravated by driving the revolutionary dictatorship to the
highest pitch of irritation.
On both banks of the Loire, the people had retained a strong attachment
to their ancient habits, and particularly to their religion and its ministers.
When, in consequence of the civil constitution, the members of the clerical
body found themselves divided, a real schism ensued. The cures, who
refused to submit to the new circumscription of the churches and to take tin*
oath, were preferred by the people; and when, turned out of their livings.
they were obliged to retire, the peasants followed them into the woods, and
considered both themselves and their religion as persecuted. They collected
in little bands, annoyed the constitutional cures as intruders, and committed
the most heinous outrages upon them. In Bretagne, in the environs of Ken-
nes, there were more general and more serious insurrections, which origin-
ated in the dearth of provisions and the threat to destroy the Church, con-
tained in this expression of Cambon : Those who will' have mass, shall
pay fur if. Government had, however, succeeded in quelling these partial
disturbances on the right bank of the Loire, and it had only to dread their
communication with the left bank, the theatre of the grand insurrection.
It was particularly OB this left bank, in Anjou, and Upper and 1.
Poitou, that the famous war of La Vendee had broken out. It was in this
part of France that the influence of time was least felt, and that it had pro-
duced least change in the ancient manners. The feudal system had there
i
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 147
acquired a truly patriarchal character; and the Revolution, instead of ope-
rating a beneficial reform in the country, had shocked the most kindly habits
and been received 00 a persecution. The Bocage and the Marais censtituu
a singular country, which it is necessary to describe, in order to convey an
idea of the manners of the population, and the kind of society that was
formed there.
m out from Nantes and Saumur and proceeding from the Loire to the
sands of Olonne, Lucon, Fontenay, and Niort, you meet with an unequal
undulating soil, intersected by ravines and crossed by a multitude of hi
which serve to fence in each field, and which have on this account obtained
for the country the name of the Bocage. As you approach the sea the ground
declines, till it terminates in salt marshes, and is everywhere cut up by a
multitude of small canals, which render access almost impossible. This is
what is called the Marais. The only abundant produce in this country is
pasturage, consequently cattle are plentiful. The peasants there grew only
just sufficient com for their own consumption, and employed the produce
of their herds and flocks as a medium of exchange. It is well known that
iple are more simple than those subsisting by this kind of industry.
great towns had been built in these parts. They contained only large
villages of two or three thousand souls. Between the two high-roads lead-
ing, the one from Tours to Poitiers, and the other from Nantes to La Ro-
chelle, extended a tract thirty leagues in breadth, where there were none but
cross-roads leading to villages and hamlets. The country was divided into
a great number of small farms, paying a rent of from five to six hundred
francs, each let to a single family, which divided the produce of the cattle
witli the proprietor of the land. From this division of farms, the seigneurs
had to treat with each family, and kept up a continual and easy intercourse
with them. The simplest mode of life prevailed in the mansions of the
gentry : they were fond of the chase, on account of the abundance of game ;
the gentry and the peasants hunted together, and they were all celebrated
for their skill and vigour.* The priests, men of extraordinary purity of
character, exercised there a truly paternal ministry. Wealth had neither
corrupted their manners, nor provoked censure regarding them. People
submitted to the authority of the seigneur, and believed the words of the cure,
because there was no oppression in the one, nor scandal in the other. Be-
fore humanity throws itself into the track of civilization, there is a point of
simplicity, ignorance, and purity, where one would wish to stop it, were it
not its lot to proceed through evil towards all sorts of improvement.
When the Revolution, so beneficent in other quarters, reached this coun-
try, with its iron level, it produced profound agitation. It had been well if
it could have made an exception there, but that was impossible. Those who
" " The gentlemen's residences were built and furnished without magnificence, and had
neither extensive parks, nor fine gardens. Their owners lived without pomp, and even with.
extreme simplicity. When called to the capital on business or pleasure, they did not return
to the Bocage with the airs and manners of Paris. Their greatest luxury at home was the
table, and their only amusement field sports. The women travelled on horseback, and in
litters or carriages drawn by oxen. The Seigneur went to the weddings of his tenant's
children, and drank with the guests. On Sunday, the tenants danced in the court of the
chateau, and the ladies often joined. When there was to be a hunt of the wolf, or boar, or
stag, the information was communicated by the curate to the parishioners in church after
service. With these habits, the inhabitants of the Bocage were an excellent people, mild.
pious, hospitable, full of courage and vivacity ; of pure manners and honest principles.
Crimes were never heard of, and lawsuits were rare." — Memoirs of the Marchioness ci> Lc-
rochejaijuelein. E.
148 HISTORY OF THE
have accused it of not adapting itself to localities, of not varying with them, are
not aware of the impossibility of exceptions, and the necessity of one uniform
and absolute rule in great social reforms. In these parts, then, people knew
scarcely anything about the Revolution ; they knew what the discontent of
the gentry and the cures had taught them. Though the feudal dues were
abolished, they continued to pay them. They were obliged to assemble for
the purpose of electing mayors ; they did so, and begged the xci^iietirs to
accept the office. But when the removal of the non-juring priests deprived
the peasants of the ministers in whom they had confidence, they were vehe-
mently exasperated, and, as in Bretagne, they ran into the woods and tra-
velled to a considerable distance to attend the ceremonies of a worship, the
only true one in their estimation. From that moment a violent hatred was
kindled in their souls, and the priests neglected no means of fanning the
flames. The 10th of August drove several Poitevin nobles back to their
estates; the 21st of January estranged them, and they communicated their
indignation to those about them. They did not conspire, however, as some
have conceived. The known dispositions of the country had incited men who
were strangers to it to frame plans of conspiracy. One had been hatched
in Bretagne, but none was formed in the Bocage ; there was no concerted
plan there ; the people suffered themselves to be driven to extremity. At
length, the levy of three hundred thousand men excited in the month of
March a general insurrection. At bottom, it was of little consequence to
the peasants of Lower Poitou what France was doing; but the removal of
their clergy, and, above all, the obligation to join the armies, disgusted them.
Under the old system, it was only those who were urged by a naturally
restless disposition to quit their native land, who composed the contingent
of the country ; but now die law laid hold of all, whatever might be their
personal inclinations. Obliged to take arms, they chose rather to fight
against the republic than for it. Nearly about the same time, that is, at the
beginning of March, the drawing was the occasion of an insurrection in the
Upper Bocage and in the Marais. On the 10th of March, the drawing was
to take place at St. Florent, near Ancenis, in Anjou. The young men re-
fused to draw. The guard endeavoured to force them to comply. The
military commandant ordered a piece of cannon to be pointed and fired at
the mutineers. They dashed forward with their bludgeons, made themselves
masters of the piece, disarmed the guard, and were, at the same time, not a
little astonished at their own temerity. A carrier, named Cathelineau,* a
man highly esteemed in that part of the country, possessing threat bravery
and powers of persuasion, quitting his farm on hearing the tidings, hastened
to join them, rallied them, roused their courage, and gare some consistency
to the insurrection by his skill in keeping it up. The very same day he
resolved to attack a republican post consisting of eighty men. The peasants
followed him with their bludgeons and their muskets. After a first volley,
every shot of which told, because they were excellent marksmen, they
rushed upon the post, disarmed it, and made themselves master of the
position.
Next day, Cathelineau proceeded to Chcmille, which he likewise took, in
• " Jacques Cathelineau was a wool-dealer of the village of Pin en Mauges, who took the
resolution of standing up for his King and country, faring the evils which were not to be
avoided, and doing his duty manfully in arms. His wife entreated him not to form this
perilous resolution; but this was no time for such humanities; so, leaving his work, he
called the villagers about him, and succeeded in inducing them to take up arms." — Quar-
terly Review. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION 149
spite of two hundred republicans ami three pieces of cannon. A game-
keeper it the chdtrau of iMaulrvrier, named StoffleV and .1 young \r
of toe village of Chanzeau, had on their part collected a band of peasants.
These came and joined Cathelineau, who conceived the daring design of
attacking Chollet, the most considerable town in the country, the chief plan
of a district, and guarded by five hundred republicans. Their mode of
fighting was this : Favoured by the hedges and the inequalities of the ground.
they surrounded the enemy's battalion, and began to fire upon it under
cover, and taking steady aim. Having daunted the republicans by this ter-
rible fire, they toolt advantage of the first moment of hesitation that appeared,
to rush upon them with loud shouts, broke their ranks, disarmed them, and
despatched them with their cudgels. Such was afterwards their whole sys-
tem of military tactics; nature taught it them, and it was that best adapted
to their country. The troops whom they attacked, drawn up in line and
uncovered, received a fire which it was impossible for them to return, be-
cause they could neither make use of their artillery, nor charge scattered
enemies with the bayonet. In this situation, if they were not inured to war,
they could not fail to be soon staggered by a fire so incessant, so true, that
no regular fire of troops of the line could ever equal it. When, in particu-
lar, they saw these furious assailants rushing upon them, setting up loud
shouts, they could scarcely help being intimidated, and suffering their ranks
to be broken. It was then all over with them ; for flight, so easy to the
country people, was impossible for troops of the line. It would, therefore,
have required the most intrepid soldiers to surmount so many disadvantages,
and those who, in the first danger, were opposed to the rebels, were national
guards of the first levy taken from the villages, almost all staunch republi-
cans, and whose zeal carried them for the first time to the fight.
The victorious band of Cathelineau entered Chollet, seized all the arras
that it could find, and made cartridges out of the charges of the cannon. It
was always in this manner that the Vendeans procured ammunition. By
none of their defeats was their enemy a gainer, because they had nothing
but a musket or a bludgeon, which they carried with them across the coun-
try ; and each of their victories was sure to give them a considerable nui-
tfr'ul of war. The insurgents, when victorious, celebrated their success
with the money which they found, and then burned all die papers of the
administrations, which they regarded as an instrument of tyranny. They
then returned to their villages and their farms, which they would not leave
again for a considerable time.
Another much more general revolt had broken out in the Marais and the
departmer#of La Vendee. At Machecoul and Challans, the recruiting was
the occasion of a universal insurrection. A hairdresser named Gaston killed
an officer, took his uniform, put himself at the head of the troop, took Chal-
lans, and then Machecoul, where his men burned all the papers of the
administrations and committed murders of which the Bocage had furnished
utfple. Three hundred republicans were shot by parties of twenty or
thirty. The insurgents first made them confess, and then took them to the
edge of a ditch, beside which they shot them, to spare themselves the trouble
* " StofHet was at the head of the parishes on the side of Muulevrier. He was from Alsace,
and had served in a Swiss regiment. He was a large and muscular man, forty years of age.
The ->p|ilitrs did not like him, as he was harsh and absolutely brutal ; but they obeyed him
better than any other officer, which rendered him extremely useful. He was active, intelligent,
and brave, and the generals had great confidence in him." — Memoirs of the Marchwitsa de
Larochejcu/uelein. E.
n2
150 HISTORY OF THE
of burying the bodies. Nantes instantly sent several hundred men to St.
Philibert, but, learning that there was a disturbance at Savenay, it recalled
those troops, and the insurgents of Machecoul remained masters of the con-
quered country.
In the department of La Vendee, that is, to the south of the theatre of
this war, the insurrection assumed still more consistence.
The national guards of Fontenay, having set out on their march for Chan*
tonnav. were repulsed and beaten. Chantonnay was plundered. General
Verteuil, who commanded the eleventh military division, on receiving intel-
ligence of this defeat, despatched General Marce with twelve hundred men,
partly troops of the line and partly national guards, The rebels who were
met at St. Vincent, were repulsed. General Marce had time to add twelve
hundred more men and nine pieces of cannon to his little army. In march-
ing upon St. Fulgent, he again fell in with the Vendeans in a valley and
stopped to restore a bridge which they had destroyed. About four in the
afternoon of the 18th of March, the Vendeans, taking the initiative, advanced
and attacked him. Availing themselves as usual of the advantages of the
ground, they began to fire with their wonted superiority, by degrees sur-
rounded the republican army, astonished at this so destructive fire, and
utterly unable to reach an enemy concealed and dispersed in all the hol-
lows of the ground. At length they rushed on to the assault, threw their
adversaries into disorder, and made themselves masters of the artillery, the
ammunition, and the arms, which the soldiers threw away that they might
be the lighter in their flight.
These more important successes in the department of La Vendee pro-
perly so called, procured for the insurgents the name of Vendeans, which
they afterwards retained, though the war was far more active out of La
Vendee. The pillage committed by them in the Marais caused them to be
called brigands, though the greater number did not deserve that appellation.
The insurrection extended into the Marais from the environs of Nan* -
Les Sables, and into Anjou and Poitou, as far as the environs of Vihiers and
Parthenay. The cause of the success of the Vendeans was in the country,
in its configuration, in their skill and courage to profit by it, and finally in
the inexperience and imprudent ardour of the republican troops, which,
levied in haste, were in too great a hurry to attack them, and thus gave them
victories and all their results, military stores, confidence, and courage.
Easter recalled all the insurgents to their homes, from which they never
would stay away long. To them a war was a sort of sporting excursion of
several days ; they carried with them a sufficient quantity of bread for the
time, and then returned to inflame their neighbours by the accents which
they gave. Places of meeting were appointed for the month of April. The
insurrection was then general and extended over the whole, surface of the
country. It might be comprised in a line which, commencing at Nantes,
would pass through Pornic, the Isle of Noirmoutiers, Les Sables, Luc, on,
Fontenay, Niort, and Parthenay, and return by Airvault, Thenar, Done, and
St. Florent. to the Loire. The insurrection, begun by men who were not
superior to the peasants whom they commanded, excepting by their natural
qualities, was soon continued by men of a higher rank. The peasants went
to the mansions and forced the nobles to put themselves at their head. The
whole Marais insisted on being commanded by Charettc. H,» belonged to
a family of ship-owners at Nantes ; he had served in the navy, in which ht
had become lieutenant, and at the peace had retired to a mansion belonging
to his uncle, where he spent his time in field-sports. Of a weak and deli<
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 151
constitution, he seemed to be unfit for the fatigues of war ; but living in the
woods, where In- pi wed whole months, sleeping on the ground with the
huntsmen, be had hardened, and made himself perfectly acquainted with the
country, ami was known to all the peasantry for his address and con
He hesitated at first to accept the command, representing to the insurgents
the dan ^e rs of the undertaking. He nevertheless complied with their earnest
desire, and by allowing them to commit -all sorts of excesses, he compro-
mised them and bound them irrevocably to his service. Skilful, crafty, of a
harsh disposition, and unconquerably obstinate, he became the most formi-
dable of the Vendean chieftains.* All the Marais obeyed him, and with
fifteen and sometimes twenty thousand men, he threatened Les Sables and
Nantes. No sooner were all his men collected than he took possession of
the Isle of Noirmoutiers, an important island, which he could convert into
hi* fortress, and his point of communication with the English.
In the Bocage, the peasants applied to Messrs. de Bonchamps, d'Elbe'e.t
and de Laroche-Jaequclein, and forced them from their mansions to place
them at their head. M. de Bonchamp had formerly served under M. de
Suffren, had become an excellent officer, and combined preat intrepidity
with a noble and elevated character. He commanded all the insurgents of
Anjou anil the banks of the Loire. M. d'Elbee had also been in the service,
and united to excessive devotion a persevering disposition and great skill in
that sort of warfare. He was at the moment the most popular chief in that
part of the Bocage. He commanded the parishes around Chollet and Bois-
Preau. Cathelineau and Stolflet retained their commands, earned by the
confidence which they inspired, and joined Messrs. de Bonchamps and
d'Elbee, for the purpose of marching upon Bressuire, where General Que-
* "Charette, who was of a noble and ancient Breton family, and in his thirtieth year, was
living upon bis estates when the insurgents called on him to take the command. He refused
at first, and pointed out to them the perilous consequences of so rash a measure ; a second
time they came, and were a second time dismissed with the same prudential advice. But a
week after Cathelineau had raised the standard in Anjou, the insurgents again appeared and
declared they would put him to death unless he consented to be their leader. 4 Well,' said
he, ' you force me to it ; I will lead you on ; but remember that you obey me, or I will punish
you severely.' An oath of obedience was voluntarily taken; and the chief and people swore
to combat and die for the re-establishment of their religion and the monarchy. Turreau
calls Charette the most ferocious of all the rebel chiefs." — Quarterly Review. E.
" Charette was a sensualist. He loved women very much for his own sake — very little
for theirs ; always won by them, but never subjected, he gave himself up to the impulse of
passion, without bending his soul to the insinuating and sometimes perfidious blandishments
of a mistress." — he Bouvier Desmiirtiers. E.
■(■ " M. de Bonchamp, chief of the army of Anjou, was thirty-two years old, and had served
with distinction in India. His valour and talents were unquestioned. He was considered
as one of the ablest of the chiefs, and his troops as the best disciplined. He had no ambition,
no pretensions, was gentle, of an easy temper, much loved by the army, and possessing its
confidence. — In the prand army, the principal chief at one time was M. d'Elbee, who com-
manded particularly the people round Chollet and Beaupreau. He had been a sub-lieulenant,
and retired for some years; he was forty, of a small stature, extremely devout, enthusiastic,
and possessed an extraordinary and calm courage. His vanity, however, was easily wounded,
which made him irritable, although ceremoniously polite. He had some ambition, but his
vieu row. His tactics consisted in rushing on with these words: 'My friends.
Providence will give us the victory.' His piety was very sincere, but, as he found it was a
means of animating the peasants, he carried it to a degree of affectation often ridiculous. He
carried about his person images of saints, and talked so much of Providence that the peasants,
much as they loved him, used to call him, without meaning a joke, "General Providence.'
But, in spite of these foibles, M. d'Elbee inspired every one with respect and attachment." —
Memoirs of the Marchioness de Laroehejaquelein. E.
152 HISTORY OF THE
tineau then was. That officer had caused the Lescure family to be carried
off from the chateau of Clisson where he suspected it to be conspiring, and
confined it at Bressuire. Henri de Laroche-Jacquelein, a young gentleman
formerly belonging to the King's guard, and now living in retirement in the
Bocage, happened to be at Clisson, with his cousin de Lescure.* He
escaped, and raised the Aubiers, where he was born, and all the parishes
around Chatillon. He afterwards joined the other chiefs, and with them
forced General Quetineau to retreat from Bressuire. M. de Lescure was
then set at liberty with his family. He was a young man, of about the age
of Henri de Laroche-Jacquelein.t He was calm, prudent, possessing a cool
intrepidity, that nothing could shake, and to these qualities he added a rare
spirit of justice. Henri, his cousin, had heroic and frequency too impetuous
bravery ; he was fiery and generous. M. de Lescure now put himself at the
head of his peasantry, who collected around him, and all the chiefs joined at
Bressuire, with the intention of marching upon Thouars. Their ladies dis-
tributed cockades and colours ; the people heightened their enthusiasm by
songs, and marched as to a crusade. The army was not encumbered with
baggage ; the peasants who would never stay long away, carried with them
the bread requisite for each expedition, and in extraordinary cases, the
parishes on being apprized, prepared provisions for those who ran short of
them. The army was composed of about thirty thousand men, and was
called the royal and catholic grand army. It faced Agers, Saumur, Doue\
Thouars, and Parthenay. Between this army and that of the Marais, com-
manded by Charette, were several intermediate assemblages, the principal of
which, under M. de Royrand, might amount to ten or twelve thousand men.
The main army, commanded by Messrs. de Bonchamps, d'Elbee, de
Lescure, de Laroche-Jacquelein, Cathelineau, and Stofflet, arrived before
Thouars on the 3d of May, and prepared to attack it on the morning of the
4th. It was necessary to cross the Thoue, which almost completely sur-
rounds the town of Thouars. General Quetineau ordered the passages to be
defended. The Vendeans kept up a cannonade for some time with artillery,
taken from the republicans, and a fire of musketry from the bank, with their
usual success. M. de Lescure then resolved to attempt the passage, and
advanced amidst the balls by which his clothes were perforated, but could
induce only a single peasant to follow him. Laroche-Jacquelein hastened
up, followed by his people. They crossed the bridge, and the republicans
were driven back into the town. It was necessary to make a breach, but
• " The Marquis of Lescure was born in 1766. Among the young people of his own age
none was better informed, more virtuous in every respect ; he was at the same time so modest,
that he seemed ashamed of his own merit, and his endeavour was to conceal it. He was
timid and awkward, and, although of a good height and figure, his manners and unfashion-
able dress, might not be prepossessing at first. He was born with strong passions, yet he
conducted himself with the most perfect correctness. He took the sacrament every fortnight,
and his constant habit of resisting all external seductions had rendered him rather unsocial
and reserved. His temper was always equal, his calmness unalterable, and he passed his
time in study and meditation." — Memoirs of the Marchioness de Larochejuquelein. E.
f " Henri, de Larochejaquelcin was twenty years old at the breaking out of the war in La
Vendee. He had lived little in the world ; and his manners and laconic expressions had
something in them remarkably simple and original. There waa much sweetness as well as
elevation, in his countenance. Although bashful, his eyes were quick and animated. He
was tall and elegant, had fair hair, an oval face, and the contour rather English than French.
He excelled in all exercises, particularly in horsemanship. When he first put himself at the
head of the insurrection, he said to his soldiers, ' My friends, I am but a boy, but bj my
courage I shall show myself worthy of commanding you. Follow me, if I go forward — kill
me, if I fly — avenge me, if I fall.' " — Memoirs of the Marchioness de Larochejaquelcin. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 153
this they had not Hm means of effecting. Henri de Laroche-Jacquelein,
hoisted up on the shoulders of his men, had nearly reached the ramparts.
M. d'Elbe'e made I vigorous attack on his side, and Quetineau, unable to
n sist, consented to surrender in order to prevent mischief to the town. The
Vendeans, owing to their chiefs, behaved with moderation; no outrages
were committed upon the inhabitants, ami tin; conquerors contented them-
selves with burning the tree of liberty and the papers of the administrations.
General Lescure repaid Quetineau the attentions which he had received from
him (taring his detention at Bressuire ; and strove to persuade him to stay
with the vendean army, in order to escape the severity of the government,
which, regardless of the impossibility of resistance, would perhaps punish
him for having surrendered. Quetineau generously refused, and determined
to return to the republicans and demanded a trial.*
These tidings from La Vendee, concurring with those from the North,
where Dampierre was receiving checks from the Austrians, with those from
the Pyrenees, where the Spaniards assumed a threatening position, with the
accounts from several provinces, where most unfavourable dispositions were
manifested — these tidings excited the strongest ferment. Several departments
contiguous to La Vendee, on learning the success of the insurgents, conceived
themselves authorized to send troops to oppose them. The department of
L'Herault raised six millions in money and six thousand men, and sent an
address to the people of Paris, exhorting them to do the same. The Con-
vention, encouraging this enthusiasm, approved the conduct of the depart-
ment of L'Herault, and thereby authorized all the communes of France to
perform acts of sovereignty, by raising men and money.
The commune of Paris did not remain behindhand. It declared that it
was for the people of Paris to save France, and it hastened to prove its zeal
and to exercise its authority by raising an army. It immediately resolved
that, agreeably to the solemn approbation bestowed by the Convention on
the conduct of the department of L'Herault, an army of twelve thousand
men should be raised in the city of Paris to be sent against La Vendee.
After the example of the Convention, the general council of the commune
appointed commissioners to accompany this army. These twelve thousand
men were to be taken from the companies of the armed sections, and each
company of one hundred and twenty-six was to furnish fourteen. Accord-
ing to the revolutionary practice, a kind of dictatorial power was left to the
revolutionary committee of each section, to point out those whose departure
would be attended with the least inconvenience. The resolution of the com-
mune was, consequently, thus formed : All the unmarried clerks in all the
• "All the chiefs lodged in the same house with General Quetineau. Lescure who had
known him a grenadier, and looked on him as a man of honour, took him to his own apart-
ment, and said, ' you have your liberty, sir, and may leave us when you please, but I would
advise you to remain with us. We differ in opinion, therefore we shall not expect you to fight
for us, but you will be a prisoner on parole, and you shall be well treated. If you return to the
republicans, they will never pardon you your capitulation, which was however unavoidable.
It is an asylum I offer you from their vengeance.' Quetineau replied, ' I shall be thought a
traitor if I go with you; there will then be no doubt that I betrayed the town, although I
only ad-bed a capitulation at the moment it was taken by assault. It is in my power to
prove that I did my duty : but I should be dishonoured if they could suppose me in intelli-
gence with the enemy.' This brave man continued inflexible in his resolution, although
others renewed, but in vain, the proposals M. de Lescure had made him. This sincerity and
devotion to his principles acquired him the esteem of all our chiefs. He never lowered him-
self to any supplication, and always preserved a firm and dignified tone." — Memoirs of the
Marchiontst de Larochejaquelein. E.
vol. ii. — 20
154 HISTORY OF THE
public offices in Paris, excepting the chefs and sous-chefs, the clerks of no-
taries and solicitors, the clerks of bankers and merchants, shopmen, attend-
ants on the offices, &c. . . . shall be required in the undermentioned pro-
portions : out of two one shall go ; out of three, two ; out of four, two ;
out of five, three; out of six, three ; out of seven, four; out of eight, four ;
and so on. Such clerks of public offices as go shall retain their places and
one-third of their salary. None shall be at liberty to refuse to go. The
citizens required shall inform the committee of their section what they need
for their equipment and it shall be supplied forthwith. They shall meet
immediately afterwards to appoint their officers, and thenceforth obey their
orders.
But it was not enough to raise an army and to form it in such a violent
manner ; it was necessary also to provide for the expenses of its mainte-
nance, and to this end it was agreed to apply to the rich. The rich, it was
said, would not do any thing for the defence of the country and of the R
lution ; they lived in happy idleness, and left the people to spill their blood
for the country ; it was right to make them contribute by means of their
wealth to the general welfare. To this end it w:is proposed to raise a forced
loan, to be furnished by the citizens of Paris, according to the amount of their
incomes. From an income of one thousand francs to fifty thousand, they
were to furnish a proportionate sum, amounting from thirty francs to twenty
thousand. All those who had above fifty thousand francs were to re-
thirty thousand for themselves, and to give up all the rest. The property,
moveable and immoveable, of those who should not have paid this patriotic
contribution, was to be seized and sold at the requisition of the revolutionary
committees, and their persons were to be considered as suspicious.
Such measures, which would reach all classes, either by laying hold of
persons to oblige them to take arms, or of fortunes to make them contribute,
could not fail to produce a violent resistance in the sections. We have
already seen that there were dissensions among them, and that they were
more or less agitated, according to the proportion of the low people that
happened to be among them. In some, and especially in the Quinze-Vingts,
the Gravilliers, and the Halle-au-Ble, the new recruits declared that they
would not march while any federalists and paid troops which served, it trasr
said, as body-guards for the Convention, should remain in Paris. These
resisted from a spirit of Jacobinism, but many others resisted from a contrary
cause. The population of clerks and shopmen reappeared in the sec:
and manifested a strong opposition to the two resolutions of the commune.
They were joined by the old servants of the fugitive aristocracy, who con-
tributed greatly to agitate Paris ; crowds assembled in the streets and in the
public places, shouting Down with the Jacobins! Down with the M n/ntain!
and the same obstacles which the revolutionary system had to encounter in
the provinces, it encountered on this occasion in Paris.
There was then one general outcry against the aristocracy of the sections.
Marat said that Messieurs the shopkeepers, the solicitors, the clerks. •
conspiring with Messieurs of the right side and Messieurs the rich, to op]
the Revolution ; that they ought to be all apprehended as suspicious per
and reduced to the class of sans-cufotte.s, by not Iravinsr them whcreirith to
cover their loins (en ne pas leur hii.ssant dc quoi sr courrir le derrirre).
Chaumette, procureur of the commune, made a long speech, in which he
deplored the wretched state of the country, arising, lie said, from the pi
of the governors, the selfishness of the opulent, the ignorance of the people,
the weariness and disgust of many of the citizens for the public cause. He
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 1 "•">
proposed, therefore, and caused a resolution to be passed, that application
should be made to the Convention lor the means 01 public instruction* the
means of overcoming the selfishness of the rich, and relieving the poor; that
should he formed an assembly composed of the presidents of the revo-
lutionary committees of the sections, and of deputies from all the adminis-
trative bodies ; that this Asseinhly should meet on Sundays and Thursdays
at the commune, to consider of the dangers of the public welfare ; that, lastly,
all good citizens should he invited to attend the sectional assemblies, in
order to give patriotism the predominance there.
Danton, ever prompt at finding resources in moments of difficulty, pro-
posed to form two armies of SSWM tulottci. One was to march to La Vendee,
the other to remain in Paris, to curb the aristocracy ; to pay both at the ex-
pense of the rich ; and lastly, in order to secure a majority in the sections,
to pay the citizens who should lose their time in attending their meetings.
jiierre, borrowing Dantoifs ideas, developed them at the Jacobins, and
further proposed to form new classes of suspicious persons, not to confine
them as before to the ci-devant nobles, priests, or financiers, hut to include
all the citizens who should in any way have exhibited proof of disaffection
to the public welfare : to confine them till the peace ; to accelerate the action
of the revolutionary tribunal; and to counteract the effect of the bad news-
papers by new means of communication. With all these resources, he said,
fight be able, without any illegal means, without any violation of the
laws, to withstand the other party and its machinations.
All these ideas were directed, then, towards one end — to arm the popu-
lace, to keep one part of it at home, and to send another away ; to arm it
at the expense of the rich, and to make it even attend all the deliberative
assemblies at their expense ; to confine all the enemies of the Revolution
under the denomination of suspicious persons, much more largely defined
than it had ever yet been; to establish a medium of correspondence between
tlie commune and the sections, and for this purpose to create a new revolu-
tionary assembly, which should resort to new means, that is to say, insur-
rection. The assembly of the Eveche, previously dissolved, but now
revived, on the proposal of Chaumette, and with a much more imposing
character, was evidently destined to this end.
From the 8th to the 10th of May, one alarming piece of intelligence suc-
ceeded another. In the army of the North, Dampierre had been killed. In
the interior, the provinces continued to revolt. All Normandy seemed ready
to join Bretagne. The insurgents of La Vendee had advanced from Thouars
to Loudun ami Montreuil, taken those two towns, and thus almost reached
the banks of the Loire. The English, landing on the coasts of Bretagne,
were come, it was said, to join them and to attack the very heart of the re-
public. The citizens of Bordeaux, indignant at the treatment experienced
by their deputies, had assumed the most threatening attitude, and disarmed
a section to which the Jacobins had retired. At Marseilles, the sections
were in full insurrection. Disgusted by the outrages committed upon the
pretext of disarming suspected persons, they had met, turned out the com-
mune, transferred its powers to a committee, called the central committee of
:ioiis, and instituted a popular tribunal to prosecute the authors of the
murders and pillages. Alter taking these MSSJureS in their own city, they
:it deputies to the sections of tlie city of Aix, and were striving to
i » i r example throughout the whole department. Not sparing
even the commissioners of the Convention, they had seized their |
and insisted on their retiring. At Lyons, too, there were serious dis-
156 HISTORY OF THE
turbances. The administrative bodies united with the Jacobins, having
ordered, in imitation of Paris, a levy of six millions in money and six thou-
sand men, having moreover attempted to carry into effect the disarming of
suspected persons, and to institute a revolutionary tribunal, the sections had
revolted and were on the point of coming to blows with the commune.
Thus, while the enemy was advancing on the north, insurrection, setting
out from Bretagne and La Vendee, and supported by the English, was likely,
to make the tour of France by Bordeaux, Rouen, Nantes, Marseilles, and
Lyons.* These tidings, arriving one after another, in the space of two or
three days, between the 12th and 15th of May, excited the most gloomy fore-
bodings in the minds of the Mountaineers and the Jacobins. The measures
already proposed were again urged with still greater vehemence : they
insisted that all the waiters at taverns and coffee-houses, and all domestic ser-
vants, should setoff immediately; that the popular societies should march
in a body; that commissioners of the Assembly should repair forthwith to
the sections to compel them to furnish their contingents ; that thirty thou-
sand men should be sent off by post in carriages kept for luxury; that the
rich should contribute without delay and give a tenth of their fortune ; that
suspicious persons should be imprisoned and kept as hostages ; that the con-
duct of the ministers should be investigated ; that the committee of public
welfare should be directed to draw up an address to the citizens whose
opinion had been led astray; that all civil business should be laid aside;
that the activity of the civil tribunals should be suspended ; that the theatres
should be closed ; that the tocsin should be sounded, and the alarm gun
fired.
In order to infuse some assurance amidst this general consternation, Dan-
ton made two remarks : the first was, that the fear of stripping Paris of the
good citizens who were necessary for its safety ought not to prevent the
recruiting, since there would still be left in Paris one hundred and fifty thou-
sand men, ready to rise and to exterminate the aristocrats who should daiv
to show themselves ; the second was, that the agitation of civil war. instead
of being a subject of hope, must on the contrary be a subject of terror to the
foreign enemy. "Montesquieu," said he, "has already remarked, with
reference to the Romans, that a people all whose hands are armed and exer-
cised, all whose souls are inured to war, all whose minds are excited, all
whose passions are changed into a mania for fighting — such a people has no-
thing to fear from the cold and mercenary courage of foreign soldiers. The
weaker of the two parties arrayed against each other by civil war, would
always be strong enough to destroy the puppets in whom discipline cannot
supply the place of life and fire."
It was immediately ordered that ninety-six commissioners should repair
to the sections, in order to obtain their contingents, and that the commid»9
of public welfare should continue its functions for another month. Custine
was appointed general of the army of the North, and Houchardt of the
* " Bordeaux, Marseilles, Toulon, and Lyons, had declared themselves against the Jacobin
supremacy. Rich from commerce and their maritime situation, and, in the case of Lyons,
from their command of internal navigation, the wealthy merchants and manufacturers of those
cities foresaw the total insecurity of property, and, in consequence, their own ruin, in the sys-
tem of arbitrary spoliation and murder upon which the government of the Jacobins was found-
ed."— Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
j- " J. N. Houchard was born at Forbach, He entered service very young, was at first a
common soldier, obtained rapid promotion during the Revolution, and in 17'.'- was made
colonel of a regiment of cavalry hussars. In 1793, he obtained the chief command of the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 157
army of the Rhine. The distribution of the armies around the frontii i
fixed. Combos presented a plan for a forced loan of one thousand millions,
which should pe furnished by the rich, and for which the property of the
emigrants should be pledged. "It is one way," said he, "of obliging the
rich to take part in the Revolution, by forcing them to purchase a portion of
the national domains, if they wish to pay themselves for their credit upon
the pledge itself."
The commune, on its part, resolved that a second army of sans-culottes
should be raised in Paris, to awe the aristocracy, while the first should march
against the rebels ; that a general imprisonment of all suspected persons
should take place ; and that the^central assembly of the sections, composed
of the administrative authorities, of the presidents of the sections, of the
members of the revolutionary committees, should meet as soon as possible,
to make the assessment of the forced loan, and draw up the lists of the sus-
pected persons.
Discord was now at its height. On the one hand, it was alleged that the
aristocrats abroad and those at home were leagued together; that the con-
spirators at Marseilles, La Vendee, and Normandy, acted in concert ; that
the members of the right side directed that vast conspiracy ; and that the
tumult of the sections was but the result of their intrigues in Paris : on the
other, all the excesses committed in all parts were attributed to the Moun-
tain, to which was imputed a design to convulse France, and to murder the
twenty-two deputies. On both sides, people asked how they were to extri-
cate themselves from this peril, and what was to be done to save the republic.
The members of the right side mustered their courage, and advised some act
of extraordinary energy. Certain sections, such as those of the Mail and
the Buttes-des-Moulins, and several others, strongly supported them, and re-
fused to send commissioners to the central assembly formed at the mairie.
They refused to subscribe to the forced loan, saying that they would provide
for the maintenance of their own volunteers, and opposed the new lists of
suspected persons, alleging that their own revolutionary committee was ade-
quate to the superintendence of the police within its own jurisdiction. The
Mountaineers, the Jacobins, the Cordeliers, the members of the commune,
on the contrary, cried treason ; and everywhere repeated that things must
be brought to a point, and that it behoved them to unite, and to take mea-
sures for saving the republic from the conspiracy of the twenty-two. At the
Cordeliers, it was said openly that they ought to be seized, and put to death.
In an assembly composed of furious women, it was proposed to take occa-
sion of the first tumult in the Convention, and to despatch them. These
furies carried daggers, made a great noise every day in the tribunes, and de-
clared that they would themselves save the republic. The number of these
daggers was everywhere talked of; a single cuder in the fauxbourg St. An-
toine had made several hundred. People belonging to both parties went
armed, and carried about them all the means of attack and defence. There
was as yet no decided plot, but the passions were in that state^of excitement,
at which the slightest occurrence is sufficient to produce an explosion. At
the Jacobins, measures of all sorts were proposed. It was alleged that the
acts of accusation directed by the commune against the twenty-two did not
army of the Rhine in the place of Custine, and in the same year passed to that of the North.
Without possessing great military talents, Houchanl was bold and active, and defeated the
allies in several battles. Under pretence that he had neglected his duty, the Jacobins brought
Houchard before the revolutionary tribunal, which condemned him to the scaffold in 1793."
-Biographic Moderne. E.
o
ur
158 HISTORY OF THE
prevent them from retaining their seats, and that consequently an act of
popular energy was required ; that the citizens destined for La Vendee ought
not to depart before they had saved the country ; that the people had the
power to save it, but that it was necessary to point out to them the means,
and that to this end a committee of five members ought to be appointed, and
allowed by the society to have secrets of its own. Others replied, dm there
was no occasion for reserve in the society, that it was useless to pretend to
conceal anything, and that it was high time to act openly. Robespierre
who deemed these declarations imprudent, opposed illegal means, and asked
if they had exhausted all the useful and safer means which he had proposed.
"Have you organized your revolutionary army?" said he. " Ha
done what is needful for paying the sans-culottes called to arms or sitting in
the sections ? Have you secured the suspected ? Have you covered your
public places with forges and workshops ? You have then employed none
of the judicious and natural measures which would not compromise the pa-
triots, and you suffer men who know nothing about the public welfare to pro-
pose measures which are the cause of the calumnies poured forth against
you ! It is not till you have tried all the legal means that you ought to recur
to violent means ; and even then it is not right to propose them in a socie
which ought to be discreet and politic. I am aware," added Robespierr
" that I shall be accused of moderation; but I am too well known to h
afraid of such imputations."
In this instance, as before the 10th of August, people felt the necessity of
adopting a course ; they roved from scheme to scheme : they called tor a
meeting wherein they might come to an understanding with one another.
The assembly of the mairie had been formed, but the department was not
present at it ; only one of its members, the Jacobin Dufournv, had attended ;
several sections kept away ; the mayor had not yet appeared, and it had ad-
journed the consideration of the object of the meeting to Sunday, the 19th
of May. Though this object, as fixed by the resolution of the commune,
was apparently very limited, yet the same language had been held in thai
assembly as in everywhere else, and it admitted there, as in all other places,
that a new 10th of August was wanted. Nothing more had been ventured
upon, however, than foul language and club exaggerations : women had at-
tended along with the men, and this tumultuous assemblage displayed only
the same licentiousness of spirit and language as all the other public meet-
ings exhibited.
The 15th, 16th, and 17th of May, passed in agitation, and everything
was made an occasion of quarrel and uproar in the Assembly. The people
of Bordeaux sent an address, in which they announced their intention of
rising to support their deputies. They declared that one portion of diem
would march to La Vendee to fight the rebels, whde the other would march
to Paris, to exterminate the anarchists who should dare to offer violence to
the national representation. A letter from Marseilles intimated that the sec-
tions of that(city persisted in their opposition. A petition from Lyons
claimed relief forlfifteen hundred prisoners, confined as 'suspected persons,
and threatened with the revolutionary tribunal by Chalier and the Jacobins.
These petitions excited a tremendous tumult. In the Assembly, as in the
tribunes, the parties seemed on the point of coming to blows. Meanwhile
the right side, roused by the danger, communicated its courage to the Plain.
ami a <rreat majority decreed that the petition of the Hordelais was a model
of patriotism, annulled every revolutionary tribunal erected by the local
authorities, and authorized the citizens, whom any attempt should be made
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 159
to briiiir before it, to repel force by force. These decision* kindled at once
the indignation of the Mountain and the OOOTSge of the riirlit side. On the
18th the irritation had attained the highest pitch. The Mountain, deprived
of a great number of its members, sent as commissi! huts into the depart-
ments and to the armies, cried out against oppression. Guadet immediately
solicited permission to speak, for the purpose of making an historical appli-
cation to present circumstances, and he seemed to foretell, in a fearful man-
ner, the destiny of the parties, " In England," he said, " when a generous
majority endeavoured to oppose the fury of a factious minority, that minor-
ity cried out against oppression, and succeeded by means of that cry in
oppressing the majority itself. It called around it the patriots par excellence.
Such was the appellation assumed by a misled multitude, to which it pro-
mised pillage and a division of lands. This continued appeal to the patriots
par excellence against the oppression of the majority, led to the proceeding
known by the name of the purgation of the parliament — a proceeding in
which Pride, who from a butcher had become a colonel, was the chief actor.
One hundred and fifty members were expelled from the parliament-house,
and the minority consisting of fifty or sixty members were left masters of
ite. What was the result? These patriots par excellence, tools of
Cromwell, and whom he led to the commission of folly after folly, were
expelled in their turn. Their own crimes served as a pretext to the
usurper."
Here Guadet, pointing to Legendre, the butcher, Danton, Lacroix, and all
the other deputies, accused of dissolute manners and peculations, thus pro-
ceeded : " Cromwell went out one day to the parliament-house, and address-
ing these same members, who alone, according to their own assertions, were
capable of saving the country, he bade them begone, saying to one, Thou
art a robber ; to another, Thou art a drunkard ; to this, Thou hast fattened
upon the public money ; to that, Thou art a whoremaster and frequentest
places of bad repute. Begone then, all of you, and give place to godly
men. They did give place, and Cromwell took it."
This striking and terrible allusion made a profound impression upon the
Assembly, which remained silent. Guadet proceeded, and, in order to pre-
vent such a purgation, proposed various measures of police, which the As-
sembly adopted amidst murmurs. But, while he was returning to his seat,
a scandalous scene took place in the tribunes. A woman had laid hold of a
man for the purpose of turning him out of the hall : she was seconded on
all sides, and the poor fellow, who struggled hard, was on the point of being
attacked by the whole population of the tribunes. The guard strove in vain
to restore tranquillity. Marat exclaimed that this man whom they wanted
to turn out was an aristocrat. The Assembly was indignant against Marat,
because he increased the unfortunate man's danger, and exposed him to the
risk of assasination. He replied that he should not be easy till they were
delivered from aristocrats, accomplices of Dumouriez, statesmen .... so
he called the members of the right side on account of their reputation for
abilities.
Isnard, the president, took off his hat, and said that he had an important
communication to make. The Assembly listened in profound silence. In
a tone of the deepest grief, he said, "A plan devised in England, with which
it is my duty to acquaint you, has been revealed to me. It is the object of
Pitt to arm one point of the people against the other, by urging it to insur-
rection. This insurrection is to be commenced by women ; they will attack
several deputies, murder them, dissolve the National Convention, and tins
160 HISTORY OF THE
moment will be chosen to effect a landing upon our coasts. Such," con-
cluded Isnard, "is the declaration which I owe to my country."
The majority applauded Isnard. His communication was ordered to be
printed ; it was again decreed that the deputies should not separate, and that
they should share all dangers in common. Some explanation was then
given respecting the disturbances in the tribunes. It was said that the
women who made them belonged to a society called The Fraternity, that
they came for the purpose of occupying the hall, excluding strangers and
the federalists of the departments from it, and interrupting the deliberations
by their hootings. Marat, who had kept pacing the corridors, passing from
one bench in the hall to another, and talking of statesmen, pointed to one of
the members of the right side, saying, " Thou art one of them ; yes, thou :
but the people will do justice on thee and the rest." Guadet then rushed
to the tribune, to provoke amidst this danger a courageous determination.
He dwelt on all the commotions of which Paris was the theatre, the expres-
sions used in the popular assemblies, the horrid language used at the Jaco-
bins, the plans brought forward in the Assembly which met at the mairie:
he declared that the tumults which they witnessed had no other design than
to bring about a state of confusion, amidst which the meditated murders were
to be executed. Interrupted every moment, he nevertheless contrived to
make himself heard till he had finished, and proposed two measures of heroic
but impracticable energy.
" The evil lies," said he, " in the anarchical authorities of Paris ; I pro-
pose to you then, to cashier them, and to replace them by all the presidents
of sections.
" The Convention being no longer free, it is requisite that another assem-
bly be convoked in some other place, and that a decree be passed directing
all the new deputies to meet at Bourges, and to be ready to constitute them-
selves there in convention, at the first signal that you shall give them, or on
the first intimation they shall receive of the dissolution of the Convention."
At this twofold proposition, a tremendous uproar ensued in the Assembly.
All the members of the right side rose, crying out that this was the only
medium of safety, and seemingly grateful to the bold genius of Gaudet which
had devised it. The left side also rose, threatened its adversaries, cried out,
in its turn, that the cohspiracy was at length discovered, that the conspira-
tors were unmasked, and that their designs against the unity of the republic
were avowed. Danton would have ascended the tribune, but h<
ped, and Barrere was permitted to occupy it in the name of the committee
of public welfare.
Barrere with his insinuating address, and his conciliatory tone, said that
if he had been allowed to speak, he could several days before have revealed
many facts respecting the state of France. He then stated that a plan for
dissolving the Convention was everywhere talked of; that the president of
the section had beard Chaumette, the procureur, use language which seemed
to indicate that intention ; that at the Eveche, and at another assembly held
at the mairie, the same question had been brought forward : that, in order
to effect this object, the scheme was to excite a tumult, to employ wom< n
to raise it, and to take the lives of thirty-two deputies under favour of the
disturbance. Barrere added that the minister for foreign affairs and tbe mi-
nister of the interior must be in possession of information on the subject, and
that it would be right to hear what they had to say. Then, adverting to the
proposed measures, he added that he was of the same opinion as Guadet
respecting the authorities of Paris ; he found a feeble department, sections acting
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 161
as sovereigns, a commune instigated to all sorts of excesses by Chaumettc,
its procurtur, formerly a monk, and a suspicious character, like all of the
ci-ihvaiit priests ;unl nobles ; but he thought that the cashiering of these
authorities would produce an anarchical uproar. As for the assemblage of
new representative* at Bourges, that could not save the Convention or fur-
nish a substitute for it. There was, he conceived, a way to ward off the
real dagger* which surrounded them without plunging into too great incon-
veniences ; this was to appoint a commission of twelve members, empowered
to verify the acts of the commune during the last month, to investigate the
plots hatched within the republic, and the designs formed against the national
representation ; to collect from all the committees, from all the ministers,
from all the authorities, such information as it should need ; and lasdy, be
authorized to dispose of all the means requisite for securing the persons of
conspirators.
The first ebullition of enthusiasm and courage over, the majority eagerly
adopted this conciliatory scheme of Barrere. Nothing was more common
than to appoint commissions : on every occurrence, on every danger, for
every want, a committee was appointed to attend to it; and the moment the
individuals were nominated to carry anything into execution, the Assembly
seemed to take it for granted that the thing was executed, and that, for its sake,
committees would have courage, or intelligence, or energy. This last was
not likely to be deficient in energy, and it was composed of deputies almost
all belonging to the right side. It included among others, Boyer-Fonfrede,
Rabaut St. Etienne, Kervelegan, Henri Lariviere,* all members of La
Gironde. But the very energy of this committee was fated to prove baneful
to it. Instituted for the purpose of screening the Convention from the move-
ments of the Jacobins, it served only to excite them still more, and to in-
crease the danger which it was designed to dispel. The Jacobins had
threatened the Girondins by their daily cries ; the Girondins replied to the
threat by instituting a commission, and this menance the Jacobins finally
answered by a fatal stroke, that of the 31st of May and the 2d of June.
No sooner was this commission appointed, than the popular societies
raised an outcry, as usual, against the inquisition and martial law. The
assembly at the mairie, adjourned to Sunday, the 19th, accordingly met,
and was more numerous than in the preceding sittings. The mayor, how-
ever, was not there, and an administrator of police presided. Some sections
did not attend, and there were not more than thirty-five which had sent their
representatives. The Assembly called itself the Central Revolutionary
Committee. It was agreed at the outset to commit nothing to writing, to
keep no minutes, and to prevent every one who wished to retire from depart-
ing before the sitting was over. The next point was to fix upon the subjects
of their future deliberations. Their real and avowed object was the loan
and the list of suspected persons ; nevertheless, the very first words began
with stating that the patriots of the Convention had not the power to save
• " P. F. J. Henri Lariviere, a lawyer at Falaise, was, in 1791, deputed from Calvados to
the Legislative Assembly. Being re-elected to the Convention, he proposed the exile of
Louis till there should be a peace. Shortly afterwards when the struggle arose between the
Mountain and the Gironde, he took a decided part in favour of the latter. He was one of the
twelve commissioners appointed to put an end to the conspiracies of the municipality of Paris,
but gave up the cause, by resigning in the midst of the denunciations directed against it.
Having contrived to remain concealed during the Reign of Terror, Lariviere joined the coun-
cil of Five Hundred, and inveighed strongly against the Jacobins. Some time afterwards he
went to England, and joined the partisans of the Bourbons." — Biographic Moderne. E.
VOL. H. 21 O 2
162 , HISTORY OF THE
the commonwealth ; that it was necessary to make amends for their impo-
tence, and for this purpose to search after suspected persons, whether in the
administrations, in the sections, or in the Convention itself, and to secure
them for the purpose of putting it out of their power to do further mischief.
A member, speaking coldly and slowly, said that he knew of no suspect
persons but in the Convention, and it was there that the blow ought to be
struck. He therefore proposed a very simple method, namely, to seize the
twenty-two deputies, to convey them to a house in the fauxbourgs, to put
them to death, and to forge letters to induce a belief that they had emigrated.
"We will not do this ourselves," added this man; "but with money it
will be easy for us to find executioners." Another member immediately
replied that this measure was impracticable, and that it would l>e riirlit to
wait till Marat and Robespierrre had proposed at the Jacobins their in
of insurrection, which would, no doubt, be preferable." " Silene
several voices, " no names must be mentioned." A third member, a deputy
of the section in 1792, represented that it was wrong to commit murder, and
that there were tribunals for trying the enemies of the Revolution. On this
observation, a great tumult arose. The doctrine of the person who had just
spoken was condemned; it was said that such men only as could raise them-
selves to a level with circumstances ought to be tolerated, and that it was the
duty of every one to denounce his neighbour if he suspected his energy.
The person who had presumed to talk of laws and tribunals was forthwith
evpelled from the Assembly. It was perceived, at the same time, that a
member of the section of La Fraternite, a section very unfavourably disp
towards the Jacobins, was taking notes, and he was turned out like the other.
The Assembly continued to deliberate in the same tone on the proscription
of the deputies, on the place to be selected for this Septembrhation, and for
the imprisonment of the other suspected persons, whether of the commune or of
the sections. A member proposed that the execution should take place that
very night. He was told that it was not possible, on which he replied that
there were men in readiness, adding that Coligny was at court at twelve
o'clock at night and dead at one.
Meanwhile, time passed away, and the consideration of these variou-
jects was deferred till the following day. It was agreed that they should
confine themselves to three points: 1, the seizure of the depmies j 2, the
list of suspected persons ; 3, the purification of the public offices and com-
mittees. The meeting adjourned till six in the evening of the next day.
Accordingly, on Monday the 20th, the Assembly again met. This time
Pache was present. Several lists, containing names of all sorts, were handed
to him. He observed that it was wrong to give them any other designation
than lists of suspected persons, which was legal, since those lists had been
ordered. Some members observed that they ought to take care, lest the
handwriting of any member should be known, and that it would be well to
have fresh copies made of the lists. Others said that republicans ought not
to be afraid of anything. Pache added that he cared not who knew that he
was furnished with these lists, for they concerned the police of Paris, which
was under his superintendence." The subtle and reserved character ot I 'ache.
was duly sustained ; and he was desirous of bringing all that was required
of him within the limits of the law and of his functions.
A member noticing these precautions, then saicf that he was no doubt
unacquainted with what had passed in the sitting of the preceding day, anil
with the order of the questions which it was right to apprize him of;
and that the first related to the seizure of twenty-two deputies. Pache
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 163
observed that the persons of the deputies were under the safeguard of the
city of Paris ; that any attempt upon their lives would compromise the capi-
tal with the departments and provoke a civil war. He was then asked how
it happened that he had signed the petition presented cm the 15th of April in
the name of the forty-eight sections of Paris against the twenty-two. Pachc.
replied that he then did his duty in signing a petition which he had been
instructed to present; but that the question now proposed was not compre-
hended in the powers of the Assembly there met to consider of the loan and
of suspected persons, and that he should be obliged to put an end to the sit-
ting if such discussions were persisted in. On these observations, a great
uproar ensued ; and, as nothing could be done in the presence of Pache, and
the Assembly did not choose to confine its attention to the mere lists of sus-
pected persons, it adjourned sine die.
On Tuesday the 21st, there were only about a dozen members present.
Some would no longer attend the meetings of so tumultuous and so violent
an assembly ; others thought that it was not possible to deliberate there with
sufficient energy.
It was at the Cordeliers that all the fury of the conspirators vented itself
on the following day. Women as well as men uttered horrible threats. It
was a prompt insurrection that they required, and, not content with a sacri-
fice of twenty-two deputies, they insisted on that of three hundred. A
woman, speaking with all the vehemence of her sex, proposed to assemble
all the citizens in the Place de la Reunion, to go in a body to present a peti-
tion to the Convention, and not to stir till they had wrung from it the decrees
indispensable for the public welfare. Young Varlet, who had long been
conspicuous in all the commotions, presented in a few articles a plan of in-
surrection. He proposed to repair to the Convention, carrying the rights
of man covered with crape, to seize all the deputies who had belonged to the
Legislative and the Constituent Assemblies, to cashier all the ministers, to
destroy all that were left of the family of the Bourbons, &c. After him
Legendre pressed forward to the tribune, for the purpose of opposing these
suggestions. The utmost efforts of his voice could scarcely overcome the
cries and yells raised against him, and it was not without the greatest diffi-
culty that he succeeded in stating his objections to the inflammatory motions
of young Varlet. It was nevertheless insisted that a time should be fixed
for the insurrection ; it was also proposed that a day should be appointed to
go and demand what was required of the Convention ; but, the night being
now advanced, the meeting broke up without coming to any decision.
All Paris was already informed of what had been said, as well at the two
meetings held at the mairie on the 19th and 20th, as at the sitting of the
Cordeliers on the 22d. Many of the members of the Central Revolutionary
Committee had themselves denounced the language used and the motions
made there ; and the rumour of a plot against a great number of citizens and
deputies was universally circulated. The commission of twelve was apprized
of what had passed, even to the minutest circumstances, and prepared to act
against the designated authors of the most violent propositions.
The section of La Fraternite formally denounced them on the 24th in an
address to the Convention ; it stated all that had been said and done at the
meeting held at the mairie and loudly condemned the mayor for having
attended it. The right side covered this courageous denunciation with ap-
plause, and moved that Pache should be summoned to the bar. Marat
replied that the conspirators were the very members themselves of the right
side ; that Valaze, at whose house they met every day, had advised diem to
164 HISTORY OF THE
arm themselves ; and that they had carried pistols with them to the Conven-
tion— "Yes," replied Valaze, "I did give that advice, because it became
necessary for ns to defend our lives, and most assuredly we should have
defended them." — "That we should!" emphatically exclaimed all the mem-
bers of the right side. Lasource added a very important fact, that the con-
spirators, apparently conceiving that the execution was fixed for the preced-
ing night, had come to his house to carry him off.
At this moment, intelligence was received that the commission of twelve
was in possession of all the information necessary for discovering the plot
and prosecuting its orders, and that a report from it might be expected on the
following day. The Convention meanwhile declared that the section of La
Fraternite had deserved well of the country.
The same evening there was a great uproar at the municipality against the
section of La Fraternite, which, it was alleged, had calumniated the mayor
and the patriots, in supposing that they had a design to murder the national
representatives. Since this project had been only a proposition, opposed
besides by the mayor, Chaumette and the commune inferred that it was a
calumny to suppose the existence of any real conspiracy. Most certainly it
was not a conspiracy, in the true signification of the word. It was not one
of those deeply and secretly planned conspiracies which are framed in
palaces ; but it was one of those conspiracies which the rabble of a great city
are capable of forming ; it was the commencement of those popular prow
tumultously proposed and executed by a misled mob, as on the 14th of July
and the 10th of August. In this sense, it was a real conspiracy. Hut such
as these it is useless to attempt to stop, for they do not take ignorant and
slumbering authority by surprise, but overpower openly and in the face of
day authority forewarned and wide awake.
Next day, two other sections, those of the Tuileries and the Butte-des-
Moulins, joined that of La Fraternite in denouncing the same proceedings.
" If reason cannot gain the ascendency," said the Butte-des-Moulins, " make.
an appeal to the good citizens of Paris, and we can assure you beforehand
that our section will contribute not a little to make those disguised royalists
who insolently assume the name of sans-culottes, shrink back again into the
dust." The same day, the mayor wrote to the Assembly, to explain what
had passed at the mairie. "It was not a plot," said he, "it was a mere
deliberation on the composition of the list of suspected persons. Some mis-
chievous persons had certainly interrupted the deliberation by certain unrea-
sonable suggestions, but he [Pache] had recalled to order those who were
straying from it, and those movements of excited minds had no result."
Little account was taken of Pache's letter, and the Assembly listened to
the commission of twelve, who came to propose a decree of general safety.
This decree placed the national representation, and the buildings containing
the public treasure, under the safeguard of the ofood citizens. At the sound
of the drums, all were to repair to the rendezvous of the company of the
quarter, and to march at the first signal that should be given them. None
was to absent himself from the rendezvous; and, till the appointment of a
commandant-ireneral, to succeed Santerre, who was gone to La Vendee, the
oldest chief of the legions was to have the chief command. The meeting
of sections were to break up by ten o'clock, and the presidents were rendered
responsible for the execution of this article. The proposed d<
adopted entire, notwithstanding some discussion, and in spite of Danton. who
said that, in thus placing the Assembly and the public establishments under
the safeguard of the citizens of Paris, they decreed fear.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 163
Immediately after proposing this decree, the commission of twelve gave
orders at once for the apprehension of two persons named Marino and
Michel, administrators of police, who were accused of having brought for-
ward in the meeting at the mairie the propositions which caused such a
sensation. It also caused Hebert, the deputy of the procureur of the com-
mune to be apprehended. This man wrote, under the name of Pere l)u-
ch£ne, a paper still more loathsome than that of Marat, and adapted by its
hideous and disgusting language to the comprehension of the lowest of the
rabble. In this paper, Hebert circulated openly all that .Marino and Michel
were accused of having proposed verbally at the mairie. The commission
therefore deemed it right to prosecute both those who preached and those
intended to execute a new insurrection. No sooner was the order issued for
Hebert's apprehension, than he posted off at full speed to the commune to
state what had happened, and to show the general council the order of his
arrest. He was torn, he said, from his functions, but he should obey. At
the same time the commune ought not to forget the oath it had taken, to
consider'itself as struck when a blow was given to one of its members. It
was not for his own sake that he appealed to this oath, for he was ready to
lay clown his head on the scaffold, but for the sake of his fellow-citizens,
who were threatened with a new slavery. Hebert was greeted with vehe-
ment applause. Chaumette, the chief procureur, embraced him ; and the
president kissed him in behalf of the whole council. The sitting was de-
clared permanent till they should have received tidings of Hebert. The
members of the council were requested to convey consolation and relief to
the wives and families of all those who were or should be imprisoned.
The sitting was permanent, and from hour to hour they sent to the com-
mission of twelve to obtain tidings of the magistrate, torn away, as they said,
from his functions. At half-past two in the morning, they learned that he
was under examination, and that Varlet had also been apprehended. At
four, it was stated that Hebert had been sent to the Abbaye. At five,
Chaumette went to the prison to see him, but could not obtain admittance.
In the morning, the general resolved upon a petition to the Convention, and
sent it round by horsemen to the sections, in order to obtain their adhesion.
Nearly all the sections were at variance among themselves ; they were for
changing every moment the bureau and the presidents, for preventing or
effecting arrests, for adhering to or opposing the system of the commune,
for signing or rejecting the petition which it proposed. At length, this peti-
tion, approved by a great number of sections, was presented on the 28th to
the Convention. The deputation of the commune complained of the calum-
nies circulated against the magistrates of the people ; it desired that the
petition of the section of La Fraternite should be transmitted to the public
accuser, that the guilty, if there were any, or the calumniators, might be
punished. Lastly, it demanded justice against the commission of twelve,
which had committed an attack on the person of a magistrate of the people,
by causing him to be withdrawn from his functions, and confining him in the
Abbaye. Isnard presided at this moment, and it was his duty to answer the
deputation. " Magistrates of the people," said he, in a grave and severe
tone, "there is an urgent necessity for you to listen to important truths.
France has committed her representatives to the care of the city of Paris.
She wishes them to be in safety there. If the national representation were
to be violated by one of those conspiracies by which we have been sur-
rounded ever since the 10th of March, and of which the magistrates have
been the last to apprize us, I declare, in the name of the republic, that Paris
166 HISTORY OF THE
would feel the vengeance of France, and be erased from the list of cities."*
This solemn and dignified answer produced a deep impression upon the As-
sembly. A great number of voices desired that it should be printed. Danton
maintained that it was likely to widen the breach which already began to
separate Paris and the departments, and that they ought to avoid doing any-
thing that tended to increase the mischief. The Convention, deeming the
energy of the reply and the energy of the commission of twelve sufficient for
the occasion, passed to the order of the day, without directing the president's
answer to be printed.
The deputies of the commune were, therefore, dismissed without obtain-
ing anything. All the rest of the 25th, and the whole of the 26th, were
passed in tumultuous scenes in the sections. They were every where at
variance ; and the two opinions had by turns the upper hand, according to
the hour of the day and the more or less numerous attendance of the mem-
bers of each party. The commune continued to send deputies to inquire
concerning Hebert. Once he had been found lying down ; at another time
he had begged the commune to make itself easy on his account. They com-
plained that he had but a wretched pallet to sleep on. Some sections took
him under their protection ; others prepared to demand anew his release, and
with more energy than the municipality had done. Lastly, women, running
about the streets with a flag, endeavoured to persuade the people to go to the
Abbaye and deliver their beloved magistrate.
On the 27th the tumult had reached the highest pitch. People went from
one section to another, to decide the advantage there by knocking each other
down with chairs. At length, towards evening, about twenty-eight sections
had concurred in expressing a wish for the release of Hebert, and in drawing
up an imperative petition to the Convention. The commission of twelve,
foreseeing the tumult that was preparing, had desired the commandant on
duty to require the armed force of three sections, and had taken care to spe-
cify the sections of the Butte-des-Moulins, Lepelletier, and Mail, the most
strongly attached to the right side, and ready even to fight for it. These
three sections had cheerfully come forward, and, about six in the evening of
the 27th of May, they were placed in the courts of the National Palace, on
the side next to the Carrousel, with their arms, and cannon with lighted
matches. They thus composed a respectable force, and one capable of pro-
tecting the national representation. But the crowd which thronged about
their ranks, and about the different doors of the palace, the tumult which
prevailed, and the difficulty there was in getting into the hall, ernve to this
scene the appearance of a siege. Some deputies had had great trouble M
enter; they had oven experienced some insults from the populace, and they
excited some uneasiness in the Assembly by saying that it was besieged.
This, however, was not the case, and if the doors were obstructed, tttjj
and egress were not denied. Appearances, however, were sufficient for irri-
• " ■ Listen,' said Isnard, ' to my words. If ever the Convention is exposed to danger ; if
another of these insurrections breaks out; and we are outraged by an armed fiction, France
will rise, as one man, to avenge our cause; Paris will be destroyed, and soon the strai
will be compelled to inquire on which hank of tho Seine the city stood !' This indignant
reply produced at the moment a great impression ; and upon ths continued refusal of IsnarJ
to liberate Hebert, crowds from the benches of the Mountain rose to drag him from his seat
The Girondins assembled to defend him. In the m'uUt of the tumult, l);inton, in a voi
thunder, exclaimed, 'So much Impudence is beyond belfcf! We will resist you. Let then
be no longer any truce between the Mountain and the base men who wished to save the
tyrant' "—Mignel. E.
f
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 167
tated imaginations, and tumult prevailed in the Assembly. Isnard presided.
The section of the Cite arrived, and demanded the liberty of its president,
named Dobsen, apprehended by order of the commission of twelve, lor
having refused to communicate the registers of his section. It demanded
also the liberation of the other prisoners, the suppression of die commission
of twelve, and insisted that the members composing it should be put under
accusation. " The Convention," replied Isnard, " forgives your youth. It
will never sutler itself to be influenced by any portion of the people." The
Convention approved the reply. Robespierre, on the contrary, was for pass-
ing a censure on it. The right side opposed this ; a most violent contest
ensued, and the noise within, and that without, contributed to produce a most
frightful uproar. At this moment, the mayor and the minister of the interior
appeared at the bar, believing, as it was the talk in Paris, that the Conven-
tion was besieged. At the sight of the minister of the interior, a general cry
arose on all sides to call him to account for the state of Paris and the envi-
rons of the hall. Carat's situation was embarrassing ; for it required him to
pronounce between the two parties, which thq mildness of his character and
his political scepticism alike forbade him to do. Still, as this scepticism pro-
ceeded from a real impartiality of mind, he would have felt happy if the As-
sembly could at that moment listen to and understand him. He addressed it,
and went back to the cause of the disturbances. The first cause, in his opi-
nion, was the rumour which was circulated of a secret meeting formed at the
mairie, for the purpose of plotting against the national representation. Carat
then repeated what Pache had stated, that this, meeting was not an assem-
blage of conspirators, but a legal meeting, having a known object; that if, in
the absence of the mayor, some overheated minds had made guilty proposi-
tions, these propositions, repelled with indignation when the mayor was pre-
sent, had had no result, and that it was impossible to regard this as a real
plot; that the institution of the commission of twelve to investigate this
alleged plot, and the apprehensions which had taken place by its order, had
become the cause of the commotion which they then witnessed ; that he was
not acquainted with Hebert, and had received no accounts of him that were
unfavourable ; that he merely knew that Hebert was the author of a kind of
paper, despicable undoubtedly, but which it was wrong to consider as dan-
gerous ; that the Constituent and Legislative Assemblies had disdained to
notice all the disgusting publications circulated against them, and that the
severity exercised against Hebert could not fail to appear new, and per-
haps unseasonable ; that the commission of twelve, composed of worthy
men and excellent patriots, was under the influence of singular prepos-
sessions, and that it appeared to be too much actuated by the desire of
displaying great energy. These words were loudly applauded by the left
sidp and by the Mountain. Garat, then adverting to die present situation,
declared that the Convention was not in danger, and that the citizens by
whom it was surrounded were full of respect for it. At these words, he was
interrupted by a deputy, who said that he had been insulted. " Granted,"
replied Garat, " I cannot answer for what may happen to an individual amidst
a crowd composed of persona of all sorts ; but let the whole Convention in
a body appear at the door, and I answer for it that the people will respect-
fully fall back before it, that they will hail its presence, and obey its injunc-
tion's."
Garat concluded by presenting some conciliatory views, and by intimating,
with the gXBatesi possible delicacy, that those who were, for repressing the
violence of the Jacobins only ran the risk of exciting it still more. Assuredly
168 HISTORY OF THE
Garat was right; by placing yourself upon the defensive against a party, you
only irritate it the more, and hasten the catastrophe : but, when the conflict
is inevitable, ought we to succumb without resistance? Such was the situa-
tion of the Girondins ; their institution of the commission of twelve was an
imprudence, but an inevitable and generous imprudence.
Garat, when he had finished, nobly seated himself on the right side, which
was reputed to be in danger, and the Convention voted that his report should
be printed and distributed. Pache spoke after Garat. He exhibited thi
nearly in the same light. He stated that the Assembly was guarded by three
sections, which were attached to it and which had been called oi:t by the
commission of twelve; he showed that in this the commission of twelve had
transgressed its powers, for it had not a right to require the armed force. He
added that a strong detachment had secured the prisons of the Abbaye against
any infraction of the laws, that all danger was dispelled, and that the Asscm-
bly might consider itself in perfect safety. He then begged that the Conven-
tion would be pleased to hear the citizens who came to solicit the release
of the prisoners.
At these words, loud murmurs arose in the Assembly. "It is ten o'clock,"
cried a member of the right side; "president, put an end to the smiii""." —
" No, no," replied voices on the left, "hear the petitioners." Henri Lari-
viere insisted on occupying the tribune. " If you desire to hear any one,"
said he, " you ought to hear your commission of twelve, which yon te
of tyranny, and which must make you acquainted with its acts, in order to
enable you to appreciate them." His voice was drowned by loud murmurs.
Isnard, finding it impossible to repress this disorder, left the arm-chair, which
was taken by Herault-Sechelles,* who was greeted by the applause of the
tribunes. He consulted the Assembly, which, amidst threats, uproar, and
confusion, voted that the sitting should be continued.
The speakers were conducted to the bar, followed by a host of petitioners.
They insolently demanded the suppression of an odious and tyrannical coin-
mission, the release of the persons in confinement, and the triumph of vir-
tue. " Citizens," replied Herault-Sechelles, " the force of reason and the
force of the people are one and the same thing "1 This dogmatic absurdity
• "M. J. Herault de Sechelles, born at Paris in 1760, began his career at the bar by hold-
ing the office of the King's advocate at the Ch&telet. In the house of Madame de Polignac,
where he visited, he met the Queen, who, delighted with his conversation, promised t" Un-
friend Mm. Having eagerly embraced revolutionary notions, he was appointed commissioner
of government to the tribunal of cassation, and was afterwards deputed to the oriainal legis-
lature,as also to the Convention, on becoming a member ol which, hi- pined the revolutionary
part of that body with uncommon ardour, Herault was absent from Paris during the Kind's
trial, but wrote a letter to the Convention declaring that he deserved death.' In the conteat
that afterwards took place between the Mountain and the Oironde, Ht':rault figured in the
Convention among the most conspicuous and zealous supporters of the former faction. Having
made himself obnoxious to Robespierre, ho was sentenced to death in 1794. He then gave
himself up for a time to gloomy redactions, walked for above two hours with the other cap-
tives in the prison, while waiting the moment of execution, and took leave of them with niv.it
tranquillity. Herault enjoyed a very considerable fortune; his figure was elegant, Ins coun-
tenance pleasing, and his dress studied, which, during the reign of ttans-citlof/utm, drew on
him many sarcasms from his colleagues. In the midst of the blood and tears which drenched
France in 1793, he still found leisure for gallantry and poetry, which made no slight impres-
sion on the young and beautiful wife of Camille-Dcsmoulins." — llinfrrnphie Modcrnr.
" Herault de Sechelles was the author of that ridiculous code of anarchy, the constitution
ofl 793."— Mercier. E.
•j" " It well became Herault de Sechelles, during the struggle Itctween the Mountain and
the Gironde, impudently to violate all luw, who had previously violated all reason, by exclaim-
ing that ' the powers of the people and of reason were the same !' " — PrudJtomme. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 169
was received with, thunders of applause. "You demand justice," added he,
"justice is our first duty ; you ■kid] have it."
Other petitioners succeeded the former. Various speakers were then heard,
and a projet of decree was drawn up by which the citizens imprisoned by
the commission of twelve were released, the commission of twelve was
dissolved, and its conduct referred for investigation to the committee of
general welfare. The night was far advanced; the petitioners were in-
troduced in crowds and obstructed the hall. The darkness, the shouts,
the tumult, the concourse, all contributed to increase the confusion. The
decree was put to the vote, and passed without its being possible to tell
whether it had been voted or not. Some said that the president had not been
heard, others that there was not a sufficient number of votes, others again
that the petitioners had taken the seats of the absent deputies and that the
decree was invalid. It was nevertheless proclaimed, and the tribunes and the
petitioners hurried away to inform the commune, the sections, the Jacobins, and
the Cordeliers, that the prisoners were released and the commission dissolved.*
These tidings produced great popular rejoicing and a momentary tranquil-
lity in Paris. The face of the mayor himself seemed to express sincere
satisfaction at seeing the disturbances appeased. The Girondins, however,
being determined to fight to the last extremity, and not to resign the victory
to their adversaries, met the following day, burning with indignation. Lan-
juinais, in particular, who had taken no part in the animosities resulting
from personal pride which divided the two sides of the Convention, and who
was pardoned for his obstinacy, because he seemed to be actuated by no per-
sonal resentment — Lanjuinais came full of ardour and resolution to make the
Assembly ashamed of its weakness on the preceding night. No sooner had
Osselin moved the reading of the decree and its definitive preparation, in
order that the prisoners might be forthwith released* than Lanjuinais rushed
to the tribune and desired to be heard, for the purpose of maintaining that
the decree was invalid and had never been passed. He was interrupted by
violent murmurs. " Grant me silence," said he to the left, " for I am deter-
mined to remain here till you have heard me." It was insisted that Lan-
juinais had no right to speak except with reference to the wording of the
decree : yet, after doubtful trials, it was decided that Lanjuinais should have
the benefit of the doubt and be heard. He then commenced his explanation,
and asserted that the question before the Assembly was one of the greatest
importance for the general safety. " More than fifty thousand citizens,"
said he, " have been imprisoned throughout all France by your commissioners;
more arbitrary arrests have taken place in a month, than in a century under
the old government ; and yet you complain of the apprehension of two or
three men, who are preaching up murder and anarchy in penny publications.
Your commissioners are proconsuls who act far away out of your sight, and
whom you suffer to act, and your commission, placed by your side, under
your immediate superintendence, you distrust, you suppress ! Last Sunday
it was proposed in the Jacobiniere to get up a massacre in Paris ; the same
deliberation is this evening resumed at the Eveche" ; proofs of this are fur-
nished, are tendered to you, and you reject them ! You protect the men of
blood !" Murmurs arose at these words and drowned the voice of Lanjui-
nais. "We can deliberate no longer," exclaimed Cambon ; " all that we
* " The motion was put, that the commission of twelve should be abolished, and Hebert
set at lil>erty ; it was carried at midnight amid shouts of triumph from the mob, who consti-
tuted the majority, by climbing over the rails, and voting on the benchea of the Mountain
with the Jacobins." — Locrtltllt. E.
vol. ii. — 22 P
170 HISTORY OF THE
can do is to retire to our departments." — " Your doors are beset," resumed
Lanjuinais. " It is false," cried the left. "Yesterday," rejoined Lanjuinais,
with all his might, " you were not free ; you were controlled by the preachers
of murder." Legendre, raising his voice from his seat said, " They want
to make us waste the sitting ; I declare that if Lanjuinais continues his lies, I
will go and throw him out of the tribune." At this scandalous threat, the
Assembly was indignant and the tribunes applauded. Guadet immediately
moved that the words of Legendre should be inserted in the minutes (Proces-
verbal) and published to all France, that it might know how its deputies were
treated. Lanjuinais, in continuation, maintained that the decree of the pre-
ceding evening had not been passed, for the petitioners had voted with the
deputies, or that, if it had been passed, it ought to be repealed because the
Assembly was not free. " When you are free," added Lanjuinais, " you
do not vote the impunity of crime." On the left, it was affirmed that Lan-
juinais was misrepresenting facts, that the petitioners had not voted, but had
withdrawn to the passages. The contrary was asserted on the riffht, and,
without settling this point, the Assembly proceeded to vote upon the repeal
of the decree. By a majority of fifty-one votes the decree was repealed.
" You have performed," said Danton, " a striking act of justice, and I hope
that it will be brought forward again before the end of the sittin? ; but, if the
commission which you have just reinstated retains its tyrannical powers, if
the magistrates of the people are not restored to liberty and to their functions,
I declare tb you that, after proving that we surpass our enemies in prudence
and discretion, we will prove that we surpass them in daring and in revo-
lutionary energy."* The provisional release of the prisoners was then put
to the vote and pronounced unanimously. Rabaut St. Etienne desired per-
mission to speak in the name of the commission of twelve ; he claimed atten-
tion in the name of the public welfare, but could not obtain a hearing ; at
length he signified his resignation.
The decree was thus repealed, and the majority, reverting to the riulit
side, seemed to prove that it was only in moments of weakness that deer
could be carried by the left. Though the magistrates whose release had
been demanded were set at liberty, though Hebert had been restored to the
commune, where he was presented with crowns, still the repeal of the
cree had rekindled all the passions, and the storm which seemed to be dis-
pelled for a moment, threatened to burst with aggravated fury.
On the same day, the assembly which had been held at the mairic, but
ceased to meet there after the mayor put a stop to the propositions of public
safety, as they were called, was renewed at the Eveche, in the electoral
club, to which a few electors occasionally resorted. It was composed of
commissioners of sections, chosen from among the committees of svrvri/-
Itinrr, eniiunissioners of the commune, of the departmeitt, and of various
clubs. The very women had representatives there, and amonjj live hundred
persons there were a hundred women, at the head of whom was one noto-
rious for her fanatic extravagances and her popular eloquence.t On the first
• " Danton nu afraid to resume the combat, for he dreaded the triumph of the Moun-
taineers as much as that of the (tirondins ; accordingly, he wished by turns to prevent the
31st of May, and to moderate its results; but he found himself reduced to join his own
party during the combat, and to be silent alter the victory." — Mignet. E.
+ " Theroigne de Mericourt, a celebrated courtezan, born in Luxemburg, acted i
guished part during the first years of the French Revolution. She wis connected with va-
rious chiefs of the popular party, and served them usefully in most of the insurrections.
Above all, in 1789, at Versailles, she assisted in corrupting the regiment of Flauder., by
FRENCH REVOLUTION. l"l
day, this meeting was attended by the envoys of thirty-six sections only;
there were twelve which had not sent commissioners, and a new convocation
was addressed to them. The Assembly then proceeded to the appointment
of a committee of six members, for the purpose of devising and reporting the
next day the means of public welfare. After this preliminary measure, the
meeting broke up and adjourned to the following day, the 29th.
The same evening great tumult prevailed in the sections. Notwithstand-
ing the decree of the Convention, which required them to close at ten
o'clock, they continued to sit much later, constituting themselves at that hour
patriotic societies, and by this new title prolonged their meeting till the
night was considerably advanced. In some they prepared fresh addresses
against the commission of twelve: in others, they drew up petitions to the
nililv. demanding an explanation of those words of Isnard: Paris will
be erased from the list of cities.
At the commune, Chaumette made a long speech on the evident conspi-
racy that was hatching against liberty, on the ministers, on the right side,
&c. Hehert arrived, gave an account of his detention, received a crown,
which he placed upon the bust of J. J. Rousseau, and then returned to the
section, accompanied by the commissioners of the commune, who brought
back in triumph the magistrate released from confinement.
A day, the 29th, the Convention was afflicted by disastrous intelligence
from the two most important military points, the North and La Vendee.
The army of the North had been repulsed between Bouchain and Cambria;
all communication between Valenciennes and Cambria was cut off. At
Fontenay, the republican troops had been completely defeated by M. de
Lescure, who had taken Fontenay itself.* These tidings produced general
taking into the ranks other girls of whom she bad the direction, and distributing money to
the soldiers. In 1790 she was sent to Liege to assist the people to rise there : but the Aus-
trians arrested her in 1791 and took her to Vienna. Here the Emperor Leopold had an
exciting interview witli her, and set her at liberty in the course of a short time. In 1792
she returned to Paris, and showed herself again on the theatre of the Revolution. She
appeared with a pike in her hand at the head of an army of women, frequently harangued
the clubs, and particularly signalized herself on the 10th of August During the Reign of
Terror, she was placed in a mad-house; and among the papers of St. Just was found a letter
from her, dated 1794. in which is seen the wandering of a disordered imagination." — Bio-
grap/iie Moderne. E.
* " On the 2 1th of May, towards midday, the Vendeans approached Fontenay, and found
twenty thousand republicans, with a powerful train of artillery, waiting for them. Before the
attack, the soldiers received absolution. Their generals then said to them, ' Now, friends,
we have no powder; we must take these cannon with clubs.' The soldiers of M. de Les-
cure, who commanded the left wing, hesitated to follow him. He therefore advanced alone,
thirty paces before them. A battery of six pieces fired upon him with case-shot. His
clothes were pierced — his left spur carried away — his right boot torn — but he himself was
not wounded. The peasants took courage, and rushed on. At that moment, perceiving a
large crucifix, they threw themselves on their knees before it. They soon rose and again
rushed on. Meantime, Larochejaquelein, at the head of the cavalry, charged successfully.
The republican horse lied ; but, instead of pursuing them, they turned on the flank of the
left nog, and broke through it. This decided the victory. Lescure was the first to reach
the gate rtf the town with his left wing, and entered it ; but his peasants had not courage to
follow him. M. de Bonchamp and M. de Foret perceived his danger, and darted forward to
his assistance. 'Hum- three had the temerity to penetrate alone into the streets, but were
soon followed by their soldiers. The Iwttle of Fontenay, the most brilliant the Vendeans
had yet fought, procured them forty pieces of cannon, many muskets, a great quantity of
powder, and ammunition of all kinds. They took also two boxes, one of which contained
Dearly 900,000 francs, and was kept fir the use of their army. There was considerable ein-
bara.-sm.-nt respecting the republican priaoiMrt, whose numbers amounted to three or four
thousand. My father proposed to cut oil' their hair, which would secure their being known
172 HISTORY OF THE
consternation, and rendered the situation of the moderate party still more
dangerous. The sections came in succession with banners, inscribed with
the words, Resistance to Oppression. Some demanded, as they had an-
nounced on the preceding evening, an explanation of the expression used by
Isnard ; some declared that there was no other inviolability than that of the
people ; that, consequently, the deputies who had sought to arm the depart-
ments against Paris ought to be placed under accusation, that the commis-
sion of twelve ought to be suppressed ; that a revolutionary army ought to
be organized, <fcc.
At the Jacobins, the sitting was not less significant. On all sides it was
said that the moment had arrived, that it was high time to save the people ;
and whenever a member came forward, to detail the means to be employed,
he was referred to the commission of six, appointed at the central club.
" That commission," he was told, is directed to provide for everything, and
to devise the means of public welfare. Legendre, who would have expa-
tiated on the dangers of the moment, and the necessity of trying all legal
means before recourse was had to violent measures, was called a sleepy
fellow. Robespierre, without speaking out, said that the commune ouplit
to unite heartily with the people ; that for his part he was incapable of pre-
scribing the means of welfare ; that this was given only to a single indivi-
dual, but it was not given to him, exhausted, by four years of revolution,
and consumed by a slow and deadly fever.*
again and punished, if taken a second time ; the measure was adopted, and occasioned much
mirth among our people." — Memoirs of the Marchioness de Larochejaquetein. E.
• The real sentiments of Robespierre relative to the 31st of May are manifest from the
speeches which he made at the Jacobins, where men spoke out much more freely than
in the Assembly, and where they conspired openly. Extracts from his speeches at various
important periods will show the train of his ideas in regard to the great catastrophe of the
days between the 31st of May and the 2d of June. His first speech, delivered on occasion
of the pillages in the month of February, affords a first indication.
Sitting of February 25, 1793.
" As I have always loved humanity and never sought to flatter any man, I will proclaim
the truth. This is a plot hatched against the patriots themselves. It is intriguers who want
to ruin the patriots ; there is in the hearts of the people a just feeling of indignation. I have
maintained, amidst persecutions and unsupported, that the people are never wrong ; I have
dared to proclaim this truth at a time when it was not yet recognised ; the course of the Re-
volution has developed it.
" The people have so often heard the law invoked by those who were desirous to bring
them beneath their yoke, that they are distrustful of that language.
" The people are suffering ; they have not yet reaped the fruit of their labours ; they are yet
persecuted by the rich, and the rich are still what they always were, that is hard-hearted and
unfeeling. (Applause.) The people see the insolence of those who have betray e.l them;
they see wealth accumulated in their hands, they feel their own poverty, they feel not the
necessity of taking the means for attaining their aim ; and when you talk the language of
reason to them, they listen only to their indignation against the rich, and suffer themselves to
be hurried into false measures by those who seize their confidence for the purpose of ruining
them.
" There are two causes, the first a natural disposition in the people to relieve their wants,
a disposition natural and legitimate in itself; the people believe that, in the aWnce of pro-
tecting laws, they have a right to provide themselves for their necessities.
" There is a second cause. That cause consists in the perfidious designs of the enemies
of liberty, of the enemies of the people, who are well aware that the only means of delivering
us up to the foreign powers is to alarm the people on account of their supply of provisions,
and to render them the victims of the excesses thence resulting. I have myself been an eye-
witness of the disturbances. Besides the honest citizens, we have seen foreigners and opulent
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 173
These words of the tribune produced a powerful effect and drew forth
vehement applause. They clearly indicated that he was waiting, like every -
raen, dressed in the respectable garb of sans~cu!ot(es. We have heard them say, ' "We were
promised abundance after the death of the King, and now that there is no King we are more
\vn tilled than ever.' We have heard them declaim not against the intriguing arid counter-
revolutionary part of the Convention, which sits where sal the aristocrats of the Constituent
Assembly, but against the Mountain, against the deputation of Paris, against the Jacobins,
whom they represented as forestallers.
" I do not tell you that the people are culpable ; I do not tell you that their riots are a
crime ; but when the people rise, ought they not to have an aim that is worthy of them ?
But ought paltry shop-goods to engage their attention ? They derived no benefit from them,
for the loaves of sugar were taken away by the valets of the aristocracy ; and supposing that
they had profited by them, what are the inconveniences that might thence result? Our ad-
versaries wish to frighten all who possess any property ; they wish to persuade men that our
system of liberty and equality is subversive of all order, all security.
" The people ought to rise, not to carry off sugar, but to crush the brigands. (Applause.)
Need I picture to you past dangers ? You had nearly fallen a prey to the Prussians and
Austrians ; a negotiation was on foot, and those who then trafficked with your liberty are
the same that have excited the present disturbances. I declare, in the face of the friends of
liberty and equality, in the face of the nation, that in the month of September, after the
affair of the 10th of August, it was decided in Paris that the Prussians should advance with-
out obstacle to this capital."
Sitting of May 8th, 1793.
" We have to wage an external and an internal war. The civil war is kept up by the
enemies of the interior. The army of La Vendee, the army of Bretagne, and the army of
Coblentz, are directed against Paris, that citadel of liberty. People of Paris ! the tyrants
are arming against you, because you are the most estimable portion of humanity; the great
powers of Europe are rising against you: all the corrupt men in France are seconding their
efforts.
" After you have formed a conception of this vast plan of your enemies, you ought easily
to guess the means of defending yourselves. I do not tell you my secret, I have manifested
it in the bosom of the Convention.
" I will reveal to you this secret, and were it possible that this duty of the representative
of a free people could be deemed a crime, still I would confront all dangers to confound the
tyrants and to save liberty.
'• I said this morning in the Convention that the partisans of Paris should go forth to meet
the villains of La Vendee, that they should take along with them by the way all their
brethren of the departments, and exterminate all, yes, all the rebels at once.
" I said that all the patriots at home ought to rise and take away the capacity for mischief
both from the aristocrats of La Vendee, and the aristocrats disguised under the mask of
patriotism.
■ I said that the rebels of La Vendee had an army in Paris ; I said that the generous and
sublime people, who for five years have borne the weight of the Revolution, ought to take
the necessary precautions that our wives and our children may not be delivered up to the
counter-revolutionary knife of the enemies whom Paris contains in its bosom. None dared
dispute this principle. These measures are of urgent, of imperative necessity. Patriots, fly
to meet the banditti of La Vendee.
." They are formidable only because the precaution had been taken to disarm the people.
Paris must send forth republican legions; but, while we are making our domestic enemies
tremble, it is not right that our wives and our children should be exposed to the fury of tho
aristocracy. I proposed two measures : the first that Paris should send two legions suffi-
cient to exterminate all the wretches who have dared to raise the standard of rebellion. I de-
manded that all the aristocrats, all the Feuillans, all the moderates, should be expelled from
the sections which they poisoned with their impure breath. I demanded that all suspected
citizens should be put under arrest.
" I demanded that the quality of suspected citizens should not be determined by the quality
of ci-devant nobles, proeureurs, financiers, and tradesmen. I demanded tint all citizens who
have given proof of incivism may be imprisoned till the end of the war, and that we may
have an imposing attitude before our enemies. I said that it was requisite to procure for the
rt
174 HISTORY OF THE
body else, to see what would be done by the municipal authorities at the
Eveche. The assembly at the Eveche had met, and, as on the preceding
people the means of attending the sections without prejudice to its means of existence, and
that, to this end, the Convention should decree that every artisan living by his labour should
be paid for all the time that he might be obliged to keep himself under arms, for the preserva-
tion of the tranquillity in Paris. I demanded that the necessary millions should be appro-
priated to the manufacture of arms and pikes, for the purpose of arming all the sans-culoltes
of Paris.
" I demanded that forges and workshops should be erected in the public places, that all the
citizens might be witnesses of the fidelity and activity of the operations. I demanded that all
the public functionaries should be displaced by the people,
" I demanded that the municipality and the department of Paris, which possesses the con-
fidence of the people, should cease to be shackled.
" I demanded that the factious who are in the Convention should cease to calumniate the
people of Paris, and that the journalists who pervert the public opinion, should be reduced to
silence. All these measures are necessary, and to sum up here is the acquittal of the debt
which I have contracted towards the people.
" I demanded that the people should make an effort to exterminate the aristocrats who
exist everywhere. (Applause.)
" I demanded that there should be in the bosom of Paris an army, not like that of Dumou-
riez, but a popular army, which should be continually under arms to overawe the Feuillans
and the moderates: this army to be composed of paid sans-culottes. I demand that there
be assigned to it sufficient funds for arming the artisans and all good patriots ; I demand that
they be at all the posts, and that their imposing majesty make all the aristocrats turn pale.
■ I demand that to-morrow forges be erected in all the public places, where fire-arms shall
be manufactured for arming the people. I demand that the executive council be charged
with the execution of these measures upon its responsibility. If there be any who resist, if
there be any who favour the enemies of liberty, let them to-morrow be driven away.
" I demand that the constituted authorities be charged to superintend the^xecution of
these measures, and that they bear in mind that they are the representatives of a city which
is the bulwark of liberty, and whose existence renders counter-revolution impossible.
"In this critical moment duty commands all patriots to save the country by the most
vigorous means; if you suffer the patriots to be slaughtered in detail, all that is most virtu-
ous on earth will be annihilated ; it is for you to see if you will save the human race."
(All the members rose by a simultaneous impulse, and waving their hats, cried, Yes, yes,
we will.)
" It is because your glory, your happiness, are at stake, and it is from this motive alone,
that I conjure you to watch over the welfare of the country. You conceive perhaps that yoa
ought to revolt, that you ought to assume the air of insurrection : no such thing ; it is law
in hand that we must exterminate all our enemies.
" It is with consummate impudence that the unfaithful representatives have attempted to
separate the people of Paris from the departments, that they have attempted to separate the
people of the tribunes from the people of Paris, as if it were a fault in us that wc have made
all possible sacrifices to enlarge our tribunes for the whole population of Paris. I say that I
am speaking to the whole population of Paris, and, if it were assembled in this place, if it
were to hear me plead its cause against Buzot and Barbaroux, it is not to be doubted that
it would range itself on my side.
" Citizens, people magnify our dangers : they represent the foreign armies united with the
rebels of the interior ; but what can their efforts accomplish against millions of intrepid sans-
culoltes? And if you adopt this proposition that one freeman is worth a hundred slaves,
you may easily calculate that your force surpasses that of all the powers put together.
" You have in the laws all that is requisite for exterminating our enemies lcgalK .
have aristocrats in the sections; expel them. You have liberty to save; proclaim the rights
of liberty, and exercise all your energy. You have an immense host of sans-culottes. very pare,
very vigorous ; they cannot leave their work ; make the rich pay them. You have ■
tional Convention ; it is very possible that the members of that Convention are not all alike
friends of liberty and equality ; but the greater number are determined to support the rights
of the people and to save the republic The gangrened portion of the Convention will not
prevent the people from fighting the aristocrats. Do you then conceive that the Mountain
of the Convention will not have sufficient strength to curb all the partizans of Dumouriez,
of Orleans, and of Coburg ? Indeed you cannot think so.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 175
night it contained a considerable number of women. Its first businr-
to make proprietors easy by swearing to respect property. " Piuptrty,"
■ If liberty succumbs, it will be less the fault of the representatives than of the sovereign !
People ! forget not that your destiny is in your hands; it is your duty to save Paris and man-
kind ; if you fail to do it, you are guilty.
" The Mountain needs the people ; the people are supported by the Mountain. They
strive to alarm you in every way : they want to make us believe that the departments are
enemies to the Jacobins. I declare to you that Marseilles is the everlasting friend of the
Mountain ; that at Lyons the patriots have gained a complete victory.
" I sum up, and demand, 1st, that the sections raise an army sufficient to form the nucleus
of a revolutionary army, that shall collect all the sans-culottes of the departments to extermi-
nate the rebels ; 2d, that an army of sans-culutles be raised in Paris to overawe the aristo-
cracy ; 3d, that dangerous intriguers, that all the aristocrats be put in a state of arrest ; that
the sans-culottes be paid at the expense of the public exchequer, which shall be supplied by
the rich, and that this measure extend to the whole of the repuWic.
" I demand that forges be erected in all the public places.
" I demand that the commune of Paris keep up with all its power the revolutionary zeal
of the people of Paris.
■ I demand that the revolutionary tribunal make it a duty to punish those who lately have
blasphemed the republic
" I demand that this tribunal bring without delay to exemplary punishment certain gene-
rals, taken in the fact, and who ought already to be tried.
" I demand that the sections of Paris unite themselves with the commune of Paris, and
that they counterbalance by their influence the perfidious writings of the journalists in the
pay of foreign powers.
" By taking all these measures, without furnishing any pretext for saying that you have
violated the laws, you will give an impulse to the departments, which will join you for the
purpose of saving liberty."
Sitting of Sunday, May 12, 1793.
" I never could conceive how it was possible that in critical moments there should be so
many men to make propositions which compromise the friends of liberty, while nobody sup-
ports those which tend to save the republic. Till it is proved to me that it is not necessary
to arm the sans-culottes, that it is not right to pay them for mounting guard, and for assuring
the tranquillity of Paris, till it is proved to me that it is not right to convert our public places
into workshops for making arms, I shall believe and I shall say that those who, setting aside
these measures, propose to you only partial measures, how violent soever they may be, I shall
say that these men know nothing of the means of saving the country ; for it is not till after
we have tried all those measures which do not compromise society that we ought to have re-
course to extreme measures ; besides, these measures ought not to be proposed in the bosom
of a society which should be wise and politic. It is not a moment of transient agitation that
will save the country. We have for enemies the most artful and the most supple men, who
have at their disposal all the treasures of the republic.
" The measures which have been proposed have not and cannot have any result ; they
have served only to feed calumny, they have served only to furnish the journalists with pre-
texts for representing us in the most hateful colours.
" When we neglect the first means that reason points out, and without which the public
welfare cannot be brought about, it is evident that we are not in the right track. I shall
say no more of that, but I declare that I protest against all those means which tend only to
compromise the society without contributing to the public welfare. That is my confession
of faith ; the people will always be able to crush the aristocracy ; let the society only beware
of committing any gross blunder.
" When I see the pains that are taking to make the society enemies to no purpose, to en-
courage the villains who are striving to destroy it, I am tempted to believe that people are
blind or evil-disposed.
"I propose to the society to resolve upon the measures which I have suggested, and I
regard as extremely culpable those who do not cause them to be carried into execution. How
can such measures be disapproved ? How can any one help feeling their necessity, and, if
feeling it, hesitate for a moment to support them and enforce thri.- adoption | I shall pro-
pose to the society to listen to a discussion of the principles of the constitution that is pre-
176 HISTORY OF THE
some one exclaimed, " was respected on the 10th of August and on the 14th
of July," and an oath was immediately taken to respect it on the 31st of
May, 1793. Dufourny, a member of the commission of six, then said that
without a commandant-general of the Parisian guard, it was impossible to
answer for any result, and that the commune ought to be desired to appoint
one immediately. A woman, the celebrated Lacombe, then spoke ; she
seconded Dufourny's proposition, and declared that, without prompt and
vigorous measures, it would be impossible to save themselves. Commis-
sioners were immediately despatched to the commune, which replied in
Pache's manner that the mode for the appointment of a commandant-frenerai
was fixed by the decrees of the Convention, and that, as this mode forbade
it to appoint that officer itself, all that it could do was to form wishes on the
subject. This was 4n fact advising the club to class this measure among
the extraordinary measures of public welfare, which it was to take upon
itself. The Assembly then deliberated upon inviting all the cantons of the
department to join it, and sent deputies to Versailles. A blind confidence
was demanded in the name of the six, and a promise was required to exe-
paring for France ; for it must necessarily embrace all the plans of our enemies. If the
society can demonstrate the Machiavelism of our enemies, it will not have wasted its time.
I demand, therefore, that, setting aside unseasonable propositions, the society permit me to
read to it my paper on the constitution."
Sitting of Sunday, May 26, 1793.
" I said to you that the people ought to repose upon their strength, but when the people
are oppressed, when they have nothing left but themselves, he would be a coward who would
not bid them rise. It is when all the laws are violated, it is when despotism is at its height,
it is when good faith and modesty are trampled under foot, that the people ought to rise.
That moment is come : our enemies openly oppress the patriots ; they want in the name of
the law to plunge the people back into misery and slavery. Never will I be the friend of
those corrupt men, what treasures soever they offer me. I would rather die with republican*
than triumph with villains. (Applause.)
" I know but two modes of existing for a nation ; either it governs itself, or it commits this
task to representatives. We republican deputies desire to establish the government of the
people by their representatives, with responsibility ; it is by these principles that we square
our opinions, but most frequently we cannot obtain a hearing. A rapid signal given by the
president deprives us of the right of expressing our sentiments. I consider that the sove-
reignty of the people is violated when their representatives give to their creatures the places
which belong to the people. On these principles, I am deeply grieved "
The speaker was here interrupted by the announcement of a deputation. (Tumult.)
" I shall continue to speak," resumed Robespierre, " not for those who interrupt one. but
for the republicans. I expect every citizen to cherish the sentiment of his rights; I expect
him to rely upon his strength and upon that of the whole nation ; I exhort the people to put
themselves in a state of insurrection in the National Convention against all the corrupt depu-
ties. (Applause.) I declare that having received from the people the right to defend their
rights, I regard as my oppressor any one who interrupts me or prevents me from speaking,
and I declare that I singly put myself in a state of insurrection against the president and
against all the members who sit in the Convention. (Applause.) When a culpable con-
tempt for the sans-culottes shall be affected, I declare that I will put myself in a state of in-
surrection against the corrupt deputies. I exhort all the Mountaineer deputies to rally and
to fight the aristocracy, and I say that there is but one alternative for them ; either to resist
with all their might the efforts of intrigues, or to resign.
" It is requisite at the same time that the French people should know their rights ; for the
faithful deputies can do nothing without liberty of speech.
" If treason calls the foreign enemy into the bosom of France, if, when our gunners bold
in their hands the thunderbolts which are to exterminate the tyrants and their satellites, we
see the enemy approach our walls, then I declare that I will myself punish the traitors, and
I promise to consider every conspirator as my enemy and to treat him accordingly." (Ap-
plause.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 177
cute without examination, whatever they should propose. Silence was en-
joined on every point connected with the great question of meant; and the
meeting adjourned till nine the next morning, then to commence a perma-
nent sitting, which was to be decisive.
The commission of twelve was apprized of everything on the very same
evening, and so was the committee of public safety, and it learned, mon
from a placard printed during the day, that secret meetings were held at
Charenton, and attended by Danton, Marat, and Robespierre. The com-
mittee of public welfare, taking advantage of a moment when Danton was
absent from it, ordered the minister of the interior to cause the strictest
search to be made for the purpose of discovering this clandestine meeting.
Nothing was discovered, and there is every reason to believe that the rumour
circnlated concerning it was false. It appears to have been in the assembly
of the commune that everything was done. Robespierre earnestly wished
for a resolution that should be directed against his antagonists, the Girondins,
but he had no need to compromise himself in order to produce it; all that
he had to do was not to oppose it, as he had done several times during the
month of .Ma v.
Accordingly, his speech delivered during the day at the Jacobins, in which
he said that the commune ought to unite with the people and devise the
means which it was not in his power to discover, was a real consent given
to the insurrection. That was quite sufficient ; and there was ardour enough
in the central club to render his interference unnecessary. As for Marat, he
assisted it by his paper, and by the scenes got up by him every day in the
Convention, but he was not a member of the commission of six, really and
truly charged with the business of insurrection. The only man who can be
considered as the secret author of that movement is Danton, but he had op-
posed it; he desired the suppression of the commission of twelve," but still
he had no wish that the national representation should be yet meddled with.
Meilhan, meeting him one day at the committee of public welfare, accosted
and conversed amicably with him, remarked what a difference the Girondins
made between him and Robespierre, and how highly they appreciated his
great resources, adding that he might play a high part if he would employ
his power in behalf of good, and for the support of honest men. Danton,
touched by these words, abruptly raised his head, and said to Meilhan :
" Your Girondins have no confidence in me." Meilhan would have proceed-
ed in the same strain. "They have no confidence," repeated Danton, and
retired without wishing to prolong the conversation.
These words delineate most correctly the disposition of the man. He de-
spised the municipal populace, he had no liking either for Robespierre or for
Marat, and he would much rather have put himself at the head of the Giron-
dins, but they had no confidence in him. Different conduct and principles
separated them entirely. Danton, moreover, found neither in their character,
nor in their opinion, the energy requisite for saving the Revolution, the grand
object which he cherished above all things. Danton, indifferent to persons,
sought only to discover which of the two parties was likely to insure to the
Revolution the most certain and the most rapid progress. Master of the Cor-
deliers and of the commission of six, it is to be presumed that he had a great
hand in the movement which was preparing ; and it appears that he meant
first to overthrow the commission of twelve, and then to consider what was
to be done in regard to the Girondins.
At length, the plan of insurrection was decided in the heads of the conspi-
rators of the central revolutionary club. They meant not, according to their
vol. ii. — 23
178 HISTORY OF THE
own expression, to excite a physical but only a purely moral insum
to respect persons and property, in short, to violate, so to speak, in the most
orderly manner, the laws and the liberty of the Convention. Their intention
was to declare the commune in a state of insurrection, to call out in its name
all the armed force which it had a right to require, to surround the Conven-
tion with it, and to present to that assembly an address, which should be ap-
parently oidy a petition, but really and truly an order. They meant, in short,
to petition sword in hand.
Accordingly, on Thursday, the 30th, the commissioners of the sections
met at the Eveche, and formed what they called the republican union. In-
vested with the full powers of all the sections, they declared themsei
insurrection to save the commonwealth, threatened by the aristocratic faction,
the faction oppressive of liberty. The mayor, persisting in his usual circum-
spection, made some remonstrances on the nature of that measure, which he
mildly opposed, and finished by obeying the insurgents, who ordered him
to go to the commune and acquaint it with what they had just resolved upon.
It was then determined that the forty-eight sections should be called together
to give their votes that very day upon the insurrection, and that immediately
afterwards the tocsin should be rung, the barriers closed, and the generate
beaten in all the streets. The sections accordingly met, and the whole day-
was spent in tumultuously collecting the votes for insurrection. The com-
mittee of public welfare, and the commission of twelve, sent for the authori-
ties to obtain information. The mayor, with at least apparent regret,
communicated the plan resolved upon at the Eveche. L'Huillier, pro
syndic of the department, confessed openly, and with a calm assurance,
the plan of a purely moral insurrection, and went back quietly to his
colleagues.
Thus ended the day, and at nightfall the tocsin rang, the generate was
beaten in all the streets, the barriers were closed, and the astonished citizens
asked one another if fresh massacres were about to drench the capital in
blood. All the deputies of the Gironde and the threatened ministers passed
the night out of their own homes.* Roland concealed himself at a friend's
house ; Buzot, Louvet, Barbaroux, Guadet, Bergoing, and Rabaut St. Etienne,
intrenched themselves in a sequestered apartment, provided with good wea-
pons, and ready, in case of attack, to defend themselves to the last drop of
their blood. At five in the morning, they left their retreat and proceeded to the
Convention, where, under favour of the returning daylight, a few members,
summoned by the tocsin, had already assembled. Their arms, which were
apparent, procured them an unmolested passage through several groups, and
they reached the Convention, where there already some Mountaineer-
met, and where Danton was conversing with Garat. " See," said Louvet
to Guadet, " what a horrible hope beams from those faces !" — " Yes."' re-
plied Guadet, " it is to-day that Clodius banishes Cicero." Garat, on his
part, surprised to see Danton so early at the Assembly, was attentively
watching 'uin- "What is the reason of all this noise, and what do they
want ?" said Garat " It is nothing," coolly replied Danton. M They must
be allowed to break in pieces a few presses, and be dismissed with that sa-
• "The Girondins at this period felt without doubt, tt the bottom of their hearts, a keen
remorse, for the means which they had employed to overturn the throne ; and when those
very means were directed against themselves; when they recognised their own «\
in the wounds which they received, they must have reflected, without doubt, on that rapid
justice of revolutions, which concentrates, in a few instants, the events of several ages." —
Madame de Siait
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 179
tisf;iction." Twenty-c'urht deputies wore present. Fermont took the arm-
chair for the moment ; Guadet courageously acted as secretary. The num-
ber of tin- deputies increased, and they awaited the moment for opening tin
sitting.
At this instant the insurrection was consummated at the commune. The
envoys of the central revolutionary committee, with Dohsen, the president,
at their head, repaired to the llotel-de-Ville, furnished with revolutionary
full powers. Dohsen, addressing the general council, declared that the peo-
ple of l'aris, injured in their rights, had just annulled all the constituted au-
thorities. The vice-president of the council begged to see the full powers
of the committee. He examined them, and finding the wish of thirty-three
sections of Paris expressed therein, he declared that the majority of th
tions annulled the constituted authorities. In consequence, the general
council of the bureau retired. Dobsen and the commissioners took posses-
sion of the vacant place, amidst sb^outs of Vive la Republiipic ! He then
consulted the new Assembly, and proposed to it to reinstate the municipality
and the general council in their functions, since neither of them had ever
failed in their duties to the people. Accordingly, the old municipality and
the old general council were forthwith reinstated, amidst the most vehement
applause. The object of these apparent formalities was only to renew the
municipal powers, and to render them unlimited and adequate to the insur-
rection Immediately afterwards, a new provisional commandant-general
was appointed : this was one Henriot, a vulgar man, devoted to the com-
mune, and commandant of the battalion of the sans-culottes. In order to
insure the aid of the people, and to keep them under arms in these moments
of agitation, it was next resolved that forty sous per day should be paid to
all the citizens on duty who were in narrow circumstances, and that these
forty sous should be taken from the produce of the forced loan extorted from
the rich. This was a sure way of calling out to the aid of the commune,
and against the bourgeoisie of the sections, all the working-people, who
would rather earn forty sous by assisting in revolutionary movements than
thirty by pursuing their usual occupations.
During these proceedings at the commune, the citizens of the capital as-
sembled at the sound of the tocsin, and repaired in arms to the colours placed
at the door of each captain of a section. A great number knew not what to
think of these movements ; many even asked why they were called out,
being still ignorant of the measures taken overnight in the sections and at the
commune. In this predicament they were incapable of acting and resisting
what might be done contrary to their opinion, and they were obliged, even
though disapproving of the insurrection, to second it with their presence.
More than eighty thousand armed men were traversing Paris with the utmost
tranquillity, and quietly allowing themselves to be led by the daring authority
which had assumed the command. The sections of the Butte-des-Moulins,
the Mail, and the Champs Elysees, which had long been decidedly hostile
to the commune and the Mountain, were alone ready to resist, because the
danger which they shared with .the Girondins gave them rather more courage.
They had met in arms, and awaited what was to follow in the attitude oi
men who conceived themselves to be threatened, and were prepared to de-
fend their lives. The Jacobins and the sans-culottes, alarmed at these
dispositions, and exaggerating them in their own minds, hastened to the
Isuxbourg St. Antoine, saying that these revolted sections were going to hoist
the white flag and the white cockade, and that it wis necessary to n pair
with all possible expedition to the centre of Paris, in order to prevent :yi ex-
,
*»
ISO HISTORY OF THE
plosion of the royalists. To produce a more general movement, it was
resolved that the alarm-gun should he fired. This gun was placed on the
Pont Neuf, and the penalty of death was incurred by any one who should
fire it without a decree of the Convention. Henriot gave order.-; that the gun
should be fired ; hut the commanding officer of the post resisted this order,
and demanded a decree. The emissaries of Henriot returned in force, over-
came the resistance of the post, and at that moment the pealing of the alarm-
gun mingled with the sounds of the tocsin and of the generate.
The Convention, meeting early in the morning, as we have seen, had im-
mediately sent to all the authorities to ascertain what was the state of Paris.
Garat, who was in the hall, and engaged in watching Danton, first ascended
the tribune, and stated what everybody knew, that a meeting had been held
at the Eveche, that it demanded reparation for the insults offered to Paris,
and the abolition of the commission of twelve. Scarcely had Garat finished
speaking, when new commissioners, colling themselves the administration
of the department of the Seine, appeared at the bar, and declared that nothing
further was intended than a purely moral insurrection, having for its object
the reparation of the outrages offered to the city of Paris. They added, that
the strictest order was observed; that every citizen had sworn to respect
persons and property ; that the armed sections were quietly traversing the
city ; and that all the authorities would come in a body in the course of the
day to make known to the Convention their profession of faith and their
demands.
MallarmeVthe president, immediately afterwards read a note from the com-
mandant of the post at the Pont Neuf, relative to the contest which had taken
place on account of the alarm-gun. Dufriche- Valaze instantly demanded
that search should be made after the authors of this movement, and the crimi-
nals who had sounded the tocsin, and that the commandant-general, who had
had the audacity to order the alarm-gun to be fired without a decree of the
Convention, should be arrested. At this demand, the tribunes and the left
side raised such cries as might naturally be expected. Valaze was not
daunted : he declared that nothing shoidd ever make him renounce his cha-
racter, that he was the representative of twenty-five millions of men, and that
he would do his duty to the last ; he concluded with moving that the so
grossly calumniated commission of twelve should be immediately heard, and
that its report should be read, for what was at that moment occurring afforded
a proof of the plots which it had never ceased to denounce. Thuriot*
attempted to answer Valaze ; the struggle commenced and tumult ensued.
Mathieu and Cambon endeavoured to act as mediators ; they claimed the
silence of the tribunes and the moderation of the members of the right ; and
they represented that a combat at that moment in the capital would prove
fatal to the cause of the Revolution ; that calmness was the only means of
keeping up the dignity of the Convention, and that dignity was the only
means that it possessed for commanding the respect of the evil-disposed
* " Jacques Alexandre Thuriot Larosiere, a barrister in the parliament of Paris, was ap-
pointed, in 1791, deputy from the Marne to the legislature; and being afterwards appoints 1
to the Convention, demanded that the King should be tried within three days, and sentenced
to lose his head on the scaffold. In the same year he attacked the Girondins, and accused
them of having intrigued to uphold the throne. He was afterwards named president, and
then member of the committee of public safety. After the overthrow of Robespierre and his
party, Thuriot presided in the Jacobin club, and was, some time afterwards, employed by the
Directory in the capacity of civil commissioner to the tribunal of Rhcims. In 1805 he was
made member of the Legion of Honour." — Biographic Modcrnt. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 181
Vergniaud, inclined, like Mathieu unci Cambon, to employ conciliator}
means, said that lie too considered the conflict about to commence as fatal to
liberty and to the Revolution; he therefore confined himself to a mild ecu*
sure of Thuriot for having aggravated the danger of the commission of tun
by describing it as the scourge of France at a moment when all the popular
movement* wen- directed against it. He was of opinion that it ought to Dt
dissolved if it had committed arbitrary acts, but that it should be heard first:
and, as its report must necessarily excite the passions, he moved that the
reading of that report and the discussion upon it should be postponed till a
calmer day. This he conceived to be the only means of maintaining the
dignity of the Assembly and of proving its liberty. For the moment, it was
of consequence to ascertain who had ordered the tocsin to be rung and the
alarm-gun to be fired in Paris; it was therefore indispensably necessary that
the provisional commandant-general should be summoned to the bar. " I
repeat to you," exclaimed Vergniaud, as he concluded, "that whatever be
the issue of the conflict which may this day take place, it would lead to the
loss of liberty. Let us swear then to adhere firmly to our duty and to die
at our posts rather than desert the public cause." The members immediately
rose with acclamations, and took the oath proposed by Vergniaud. A dis-
cussion then ensued on the suggestion for summoning the commandant-
general to the bar. Danton, on whom all eyes were fixed at the moment,
and whom Girondins and Mountaineers seemed to ask if he were the author
of the movements of the day, appeared at the tribune and immediately ob-
tained profound attention. " The very first thing that requires to be done,"
said he, " is to suppress the commission of twelve. This is of much greater
importance than to summon the commandant-general to the bar. It is to men
endowed with some political talents that I address myself. Summoning
Henriot will make no change in the state of things, for it is not with the
instrument but with the cause of the disturbances that we ought to grapple.
Now the cause is this commission of twelve. I pretend not to judge its
conduct and its acts ; it is not as having ordered arbitrary arrests that I attack
it, but as being impolitic that I exhort you to suppress it." — " Impolitic !"
exclaimed a voice on the right side, " we do not comprehend that !" — "You
do not comprehend it," resumed Danton, " then I must explain it to you.
This commission was instituted solely to repress the popular energy ; it was
conceived entirely in that spirit of moderatism which will be the ruin of the
Revolution and of France. It has made a point of persecuting energetic
magistrates, whose only crime consisted in awakening the ardour of the peo-
ple. I shall not now inquire if in its persecutions it has been actuated by
personal resentments, but it has shown dispositions which this day we ought
to condemn. You have yourselves, on the report of your minister of the
interior, whose character is so bland, whose mind is so impartial and so
enlightened — you have yourselves, released the men whom the commission
of twelve had imprisoned. What would you do then with the commission
itself, since you are annulling its acts ? . . . The gun has pealed, the people
have risen, but the people must be thanked for their energy in behalf of the
very cause which we are defending; and if you are pi/ilic /cxi.slators, you
will congratulate yourselves on their ardour, you will reform your own
errors, and you will abolish your commission. I address myself," repeated
Danton, "to those men only who have some notion of our situation, and mft
to those stupid creatures who, in these great movements, can listen to nothing
but their passions. Hesitate not then to satisfy the people!"' — »■ What |
pie?" asked a member on the right. " That people," replied Danton, " that
Q
182 HISTORY OF THE
immense people, which is our advanced sentry, which bears a bitter hatred
to tyranny and to that base moderatism which would bring it back. I!
to satisfy it; save it from the aristocrats, save it from its own fury; and if,
when it shall be satisfied, perverse men, no matter to what party they belong,
shall strive to prolong a movement that is become useless, Paris itself will
reduce them to their original nothingness.
Rabaut St. Etienne attempted to justify the commission of twelve on po-
litical grounds, and to prove that nothing was more politic than to institute a
commission to discover the plots of Pitt and Austria, whose money excited
all the disturbances in France. " Down !" cried one, " silence, Rabaut !" —
" No," exclaimed Bazire, " let him go on. He is a liar ; I will prove that
his commission has organized civil war in Paris." Rabaut Mould have con-
tinued. Marat asked permission to introduce a deputation of the com-
mune. " Let me finish first," said Rabaut. Cries of " The commune ! the
commune ! the commune !" proceeded from the tribunes and the Mountain.
" I will declare," resumed Rabaut, " that when I would have told you the
truth, you interrupted me." — " Well, then, finish," said one. Rabaut con-
cluded with proposing that the commission should be suppressed if they
pleased, but that the committee of public welfare should be immediately di-
rected to prosecute all the investigations which it had commenced.
The deputation of the insurrectional commune was introduced, and thus
expressed itself. " A great plot has been formed, but it is discovered. The
people who rose on the 14th of July and on the 10th of August to over-
throw tyranny is again rising to stop the counter-revolution. The general
council sends us to communicate the measures which it has taken. The
first is to place property under the safeguard of the republicans ; the second
to give forty sous per day to the republicans who shall remain in arms ; the
third to form a commission for corresponding with the Convention in this
moment of agitation. The general council begs you to assign to this com-
mission a room near your hall, where it may meet and communicate
with you."
Scarcely had the deputation ceased speaking when Guadet presented him-
self to reply to its demands. Among all the Girondins he was not the man
whose appearance was most likely to soothe the passions. " The com-
mune," said he, " in pretending that it has discovered a plot, has made a
mistake of a single word ; it should have said that it has executed it." (
from the tribunes interrupted him. Vergniaud insisted that they should be
cleared. A tremendous uproar ensued, and for a long time nothing was to
be heard but confused shouts. To no purpose Mallarme, the president, re-
peatedly declared that if respect were not paid to the Convention, he mus'
use the authority which the law had conferred on him. Guadet still o
pied the tribune, and with difficulty contrived to make himself heard, by de-
livering now one sentence and then another, during the intervals of this
violent commotion. At "length, he proposed that the Convention should
.suspend its deliberations, until its liberty was assured; and thai the commis-
sion of twelve should be directed to prosecute forthwith those who had rang
the tocsin and tired the alarm-nun. Such a proposition was not like!1
appease the tumult. Vergniaud would have again mounted the tribune, t i
endeavour to restore some degree of tranquillity, when- a fresh deputation <>t
Mie municipality came to repeal the demands already made. The Conventi
urged afresh, could no longer resist, and decreed that the working-men u h
services were required for the security of public order and property should
be paid forty sous per day, and that a room should be assigned to th" com-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 183
missioncrs of the authorities of Paris, for the purpose of concerting with the
committee of public safety.
After this decree WM passed, Couthon* replied to Guadat, and the day,
already far advanced, was spent in discussions without result. The whole
population of Paris under armi continued to traverse the city in the BMMt
orderly manner, and in the same state of uncertainty. The commune was
busy in drawing up new addresses relative to the commission of twelve, ami
the Assembly still continued to be agitated for or against that commission.
Yergniatid, who had left the hall for a short time, and had witnessed the sin-
gular spectacle of a whole population not knowing what party to espouse,
and blindly obeying the first authority that chose to make a tool of it, thought
that it would be right to profit by these dispositions, ami he made a motion
which had for its object to distinguish the agitators from the people of Paris,
and to win the attachment of the latter by a token of confidence. " Far be
it from me," said he to the Assembly, " to accuse either the majority or the
minority of the inhabitants of Paris. This day will serve to show how
dearly Paris loves liberty. It is sufficient to walk through the streets, to see
the order that prevails there, the numerous patroles passing to and fro ; it is
sufficient to witness this beautiful sight to induce you to decree that Paris
has deserved well of the country!" At these words the whole Assembly-
rose, and voted by acclamation that Paris had deserved well of the country.
The Mountain and the tribunes applauded, surprised that such a motion
should have proceeded from the lips of Vergniaud. It was certainly a very
shrewd motion ; but it was not a flattering testimony that could awaken
the zeal of the sections, rally those which disapproved of the conduct of the
commune, and give them the courage and unity necessary for resisting in-
surrection.
At this moment the section of the fauxbourg St. Antoine, excited by the
emissaries who had come to inform it that the Butte-des-Moulins had hoisted
the white cockade, descended towards the interior of Paris with its cannon,
and halted a few paces from the Palais Royal, where the section of the Butte-
des-Moulins was intrenched. The latter was drawn up in order of battle in
• "J. Couthon, surnamed Cato during the Reign of Terror, was bom at Orsay in 1756,
and was an advocate at Clermont. He was deputed to the legislature and the Convention.
Before this period he enjoyed in his own country a reputation for gentleness and integrity ;
yet he embraced the revolutionary principles with astonishing eagerness, and, during the sit-
ting of the Convention, showed himself the most ardent partisan of sanguinary measures.
Prudhomme says, that it was in his chamber at Paris that the Duke of Orleans, Danton, Ma-
rat, Petion, Robespierre, and others, assembled .to arrange the insurrection of the 10th of
August, 1792. In the following year Couthon voted for the King's death, and eagerly op-
posed delay. He soon afterwards attacked the Girondins, and became the favourite tool of
Robespierre. Being sent to Lyons, he presided at the execution of the rebel chiefs, and l>egan
to put in force the decree which ordered the demolition of that city. Being afterwards impli-
cated with the party of Robespierre, the armed force came to seize him; when he perceived
they were going to lay hold of him, he struck himself slightly with a dagger, and feigned
himself dead. In the year 1794 he was executed, and suilcrcd horribly before he died ; his
singular conformation, and the dreadful contraction of his limbs ;it that time, so incommoded
the executioner while fattening him <>n the plunk of the guillotine, that he was obliged to lay
him on his side to give the fatal blow ; his torture lasted longer than that of fourteen other
sufferers."' — Biographie Moderne. E.
"Couthon was a decrepit being, whose lower extremities were paralyzed — whose benevo-
lence of feeling seemed to pour itself out in the most gentle expressions uttered in the roost
us tones — whose sensibility led him constantly to foster a favourite spaniel in his bo-
som that he might hare something on which to hettow kindness a-id cnresses — but who was
at heart as fierce as Danton, and as pitiless as Robespierre." — Scott's Life of yapoleun.
184 HISTORY OF THE
the garden, had locked all the gates, and was ready with its artillery to sus-
tain a siege if it were attacked. Outside, people still continued to circulate
a report that it had hoisted the white cockade and flag, and excited the sec-
tion of the fauxbourg St. Antoine to attack it. Some officers of the latter,
however, represented that, before proceeding to extremities, it would be
well to satisfy themselves of the truth of the alleged facts, and to endeavour
to adjust matters. They went up to the gate, and asked to speak to the
officers of the Butte-des-Moulins. They were admitted, and found nothing
but the national colours. An explanation ensued, and tiny embraced one
another. The officers returned to their battalions, and, presently afterwards,
the two sections, intermingled, were passing together through the streets
of Paris.
Thus the submission became more and more general, and the new com-
mune was left to follow up its altercations with the Convention. At this
moment, Barrere, ever ready to suggest middle courses, proposed, in the
name of the committee of public welfare, to abolish the commission of twelve,
but at the same time to place the armed force at the disposal of the Conven-
tion. While he was detailing his plan, a third deputation came to express
its final intentions to the Assembly, in the name of the department, of the
commune, and of the commissioners of the sections, who were then holding
an extraordinary meeting at the Eveche.
L'Huillier, procureur syndic of the department, was the spokesman.
" Legislators !" said he, " the city and the department of Paris have long
been calumniated in the eyes of the world. The same men who wanted to
ruin Paris in the public opinion are the instigators of the massacres in La
Vendee ; it is they who flatter and keep up the hopes of our enemies'; it is
they who revile the constituted authorities, who strive to mislead the people,
that they may have a right to complain of them ; it is they who denounce to
you imaginary plots that they may create real ones ; it is they who have de-
manded the committee of twelve in order to oppress the liberty of the people ;
finally, it is they who, by a criminal ferment, by contrived addresses, by their
correspondence, keep up dissensions and animosities in your bosom, and de-
prive the country of the most important of benefits, of a good constitution,
which it has bought by so many sacrifices."
After this vehement apostrophe, L'Huillier denounced plans of federalism,
declared that the city of Paris would perish for the maintenance of the re-
publican unity, and called for justice upon the well known words of Isnard,
Paris will be erased from the list of cities.
" Legislators !" he exclaimed, " is it possible that an idea of destroying
Paris can have been conceived ? Would you sweep away this sacred seat
of the arts and of human knowledge ?" After these affected lamentations,
he demanded vengeance against Isnard, against the twelve, and against
many other culprits, such as Brissot, Guadet, Vergniaud, Gensonne, Buzot,
Barbaroux, Roland, Lebrun, Clavieres, &c.
The right side continued silent- The left side and the tribunes applauded.
Gregoire, the president, in reply to L'Huillier, pronounced an emphatic.
panegyric on Paris, and invited the deputation to the honours of the sitting.
The petitioners who composed it were mingled with a crowd of the popu-
lace. Too numerous to find room at the bar, they seated themselves beside
the Mountain, which received them cordially, and opened its ranks to admit
them. An unknown multitude then poured into the hall and mingled with
the Assembly. The tribunes rang with applause at this spectacle of frater-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 135
nity between the representatives and the rabble. Osselin immediately moved
that the petition should be printed, and that they should deliberate Upon its
contents drawn up en projet by Barren. " President," exclaimed
niaud, "consult the Asssmbly as to whether it chooses to deliberate in its
present state." "Vote on Barn re's projet!'''' *was the cry on the left.
M We protest against all deliberation." cried the right. " The Convention
is not free," said Doulcet. " Well," said Levasseur, " let the members of
the left side move to the right, and then the Convention will be distinct from
the petitioners, and will be able to deliberate." At this suggestion, the
Mountain readily moved to the right side. For a moment the two sides
were intermingled, and the benches of the Mountain were entirely relin-
quished to the petitioners. The printing of the address was put to the vote
and decreed. The cry of " Vote on Barrere's projet .'" was then repeated.
" We are not free," replied several members of the Assembly. "1 move,"
said Versrniaud, " that the Convention go and join the armed force which
surrounds it, seek protection from the violence that it is suffering." As he
finished these words, he retired, followed by a great number of his col-
leagues. The Mountain and the tribunes ironically applauded the departure
of the right side ; the Plain was alarmed and undecided. " I move," said
Chabot immediately, " that the names be called over to mark the absentees
who desert their post." At this moment, Vergniaud and those who had
followed him returned, with looks of the deepest mortification and dejection,
for this proceeding, which might have been grand had it been seconded, be-
came petty and ridiculous, because it was not. Vergniaud wished to speak,
but Robespierre would not give up the tribune which he occupied. He kept
possession of it, and claimed prompt and energetic measures, in order to
satisfy the people ; he insisted that the suppression of the commission of
twelve should be accompanied with severe measures against its members;
he then expatiated at considerable length on the wording of Barrere's projet,
and opposed the clause which assigned the disposal of the armed force to
the Convention. " Conclude, then," said Vergniaud, impatiently. " Yes,"
replied Robespierre, " I am going to conclude, and against you — against
you, who, after the Revolution of the 10th of August, were for bringing to
the scaffold those who effected it ! — against you, who have never ceased to
provoke the destruction of Paris ! — against you, who wanted to save the
tyrant ! — against you, who conspired with Dumouriez ! . . . My conclusion
is the decree of accusation against all the accomplices of Dumouriez, and
against those designated by the petitioners."
After long and loud applause, a decree was drawn up, put to the vote and
adopted, amidst a tumult which rendered it almost impossible to ascertain
whether it had obtained a sufficient number of votes. Its purport was as
follows. The commission of twelve is suppressed ; its papers shall he
seized and a report made upon them in three days ; the armed force is in
permanent requisition ; the constituted authorities shall give an account to
the Convention of the means taken to insure the public tranquillity ; pro-
ceedings shall be instituted against plots denounced ; and a proclamation
shall be issued to give France a just idea of this day, which the evil-disposed
will undoubtedly strive to misrepresent.
It was ten at night, and the Jacobins and the commune complained that
the day was gone without producing any result. The passing of this decree,
though it yet decided nothing relative to the persons of the Girondins, was
a first success which caused great rejoicing, and at which the oppressed
vol. ii. — 24 q, 2
186 HISTORY OF THE
Convention was obliged to rejoice too.* The commune immediate'
the whole city to be illuminated; a civic procession with flambeaux
formed ; the sections marched'intermingled, that of the fauxboury; St.
toine with those of the Butte-des-Moulins and the Mad. Deputies of the
Mountain and the president were obliged to attend this profession, and the
conquerors forced the vanquished themselves to celebrate their victory.
The character of the day was sufficiently evident The insurgents had
wished to do everything according to established forms. They meant nut
to dissolve the Convention, but to obtain from it what they required, by
keeping up the appearance of respect for it. The feeble members of the
Plain willingly gave way to this delusion, which tended to persuade them
that they were still free, even while obeying. The commission of twelve
had been actually abolished and the investigation of its conduct had ;
deferred for three days, in order to avoid the appearance of yielding. The
disposal of the armed force had not been assigned to the Convention, but it
had been decided that an account of the dispositions made should be rendered
to it, in order that it might still seem to retain the air of sovereignty. Lastly,
a proclamation was ordered for the purpose of repeating officially that the
Convention was not afraid, and that it was perfectly free.
On the following day, Barrere was directed to draw up the proclamation,
and he travestied the occurrences of the 31st of May with that rare skill
which always caused his assistance to be sought, in order to furnish the
weak with an honourable pretext for yielding to the strong. Too rigorous
measures had, he said, excited discontent ; the people had risen with en
but with calmness; they had appeared all day under arms, had proclaimed
respect for property, had respected the liberty of the Convention and the
life of each of its members, and they had demanded justice which had been
cheerfully rendered them. It was thus that Barrere expressed himself con-
cerning the abolition of the commission of twelve, of which he was himself
the author.
On the 1st of June, tranquillity was far from being restored ; the meeting
at the Eveche continued; the department and the commune, still extraordi-
narily convoked, were sitting; the tumult had not ceased in the secti
and in all quarters people said that they had obtained only half what they
wanted, since the twenty-two deputies still retained their seats in the Con-
vention. Paris was in commotion, and it was expected that new scenes
would mark the morrow, Sunday, the 2d of June.
The whole force de facto was in the insurrectional assembly of the
Eveche, and the legal force in the committee of public welfare, invested
with all the extraordinary powers of the Convention. A room had been
assigned, on the 31st, where the constituted authorities might meet for the
purpose of corresponding with the committee of public welfare. In the course
of the day of the 1st of June, the committee of public welfare repeatedly
summoned the members of the insurrectional assembly to inquire what more
the revolted commune wanted. What it wanted was but too evident, and
that was either the expulsion or the arrest of the deputies who had so cou-
rageously resisted it. All the members of the committee of public welfare
were deeply affected at this design. Delmas, Treilhard, Breard, were sin-
cerely grieved. Cambon, a staunch partisan, as he always declared, of the
• " The conspirators were not satisfied with this half triumph. The insurrection became,
instead of a moral one, as they slyKil it, personal — that is to say, it was no longer dir.
airainst a power, hut against deputies : it smpad DantOfl and the Mountain, and it fell tc
Robespierre, Marat, and the commune." — Mignct. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. Is"
revolutionary power, but strongly attached to legality, was indignant at the
audaeitv of the eoininune, and said to Bonchotte, the successor of Bcurnon-
ville, and who. like Packe, was very complacent to the Jacobins, " .Minister
at war, we are not blind ; I see clearly that clerks in your office arc among
the leaders ami instigators of all this." Barrere, notwithstanding bii accus-
tomed delicacy, began to be indignant, and to say so. " We must see," he
observed, on that melancholy day, M whether it is the commune of Parti
that represents the French republic, or whether it is the Convention." La-
croix, the Jacobin, Damon's friend and lieutenant, appeared embarrassed in
the presence of his colleagues by the attack, which was preparing upon the
laws and the national representation. Danton, who had gone no further
than to approve and earnestly desire the abolition of the commission of
twelve, because he was adverse to everything that impeded the popular
energy ; — would have wished the national representation to be respected, but
he foresaw, on the part of the Girondins, fresh explosions and fresh resist
ance to the inarch of the revolution ; and he would have desired some me-
dium of removing without proscribing them. Garat offered it to him, and
he gladly caught at it. All the ministers were present at the committee.
Garat was there with his colleagues. Deeply afflicted at the situation in
which the leaders of the Revolution stood in regard to one another, he con-
ceived a generous idea, which ought to have had the effect of restoring har-
mony. " Recollect," said he, to the members of the committee, and to
Danton in particular, " the quarrels of Themistocles and Aristides, the ob-
stinacy of the one in refusing what was proposed by the other, and the dan-
gers in which they involved their country. Recollect the generosity of
Aristides, who, deeply impressed with the calamities which both of them
brought upon their country, had the magnanimity to exclaim, * O Athenians !
ye will never be quiet and happy until ye have thrown Themistocles and
me into the Barathrum.' Well," continued Garat, "let the leaders of both
sides of the Assembly repeat the words of Aristides, and spontaneously
exile themselves in equal number from the Assembly. From that day dis-
sensions will cease ; there will be left in the Assembly sufficient talents to
save the commonwealth ; and the country will bless in their magnificent
ostracism the men who shall have extinguished themselves to give it peace."
All the members of the committee were moved with this generous idea.
Delmas, Barrere, and the ardent Cambon, were delighted with the project.
Danton, who in this case would have been the first sacrifice, rose, and, with
tears in his eyes, said to Garat, "You are right; I will go to the Convention,
submit to it this idea, and offer myself to be the first to go as an host:
Bordeaux." They parted full of this noble project, in order to communicate
it to the leaders of the two parties. They addressed themselves in particular
to Robespierre, to whom such self-denial could not be palatable, and who
replied that this was but a snare laid for the Mountain, with a view to remove
its most courageous defenders. Of course there was left but one part of this
plan that could be carried into execution, namely, the voluntary exile of the
Girondins, that of the Mountaineers being refused. It was Barrt-re who was
deputed, in the name of the committee of public welfare, to propose to the
> which the others had not the generosity to submit. Barrere,
therefore, drew up a paper proposing to the twenty-two, and to the members
of the commission of twelve, the voluntary abdication of their functions.
mien!, the assembly at the Ilveche was arranging the definitive
plan of lie' second insurrection. Complaints were made there and at the
Jacobins, that the energy of Danton had relaxed, since the abolition of the
188 HISTORY OF THE
commission of twelve. Marat proposed to go and requireof the Convention
a decree of accusation against the twenty-two, and he proposed to require it
by force. A short and energetic petition was drawn up to this effect. The
plan of the insurrection was settled, not in the Assembly, but in the committee
of execution, charged with what were called the means of public welfare,
and composed of the Varlets, the Dobsens, the Gusmans, and all those men
who had been incessantly engaged in agitation ever since the 21st of January.
This committee agreed to surround the Convention with the armed force, and
to prevent its members from leaving the hall, till it had passed the decree
required of it. To this end, the battalions destined for La Vendee, and
which had been detained upon various pretexts in the barracks of Courbevoie,
were to be recalled to Paris. The committee conceived that it could obtain
from these battalions and some others which it had besides, what it night
perhaps not have obtained from the guard of the sections. By taking i
to surround the National Palace with these devoted men, and keeping, as on
the 31st of May, the rest of the armed force in docility and ignorance, it
expected easily to put an end to the resistance of the Convention. Henriot
was again directed to take the command of the troops about the National
Palace.
Such was what the committee had promised itself for Sunday the 2d* of
June ; but, on the evening of Saturday, it resolved to try the effect of fresh
requisitions, to see whether it might not obtain something by a last step.
Accordingly, on that evening orders were given to beat the generate and to
sound the tocsin, and the committee of public welfare lost no time in calling
upon the Convention to meet amidst this new tempest.
At this moment the Girondins, assembled for the last time, were dining
together to consult what course to pursue. It was evident to their eyes that
the present insurrection could not have for its object either the breaking of
presses, as Danton had said, or the suppression of a commission, and that it
was a final blow aimed at their persons. Some advised that they should
remain firm at their post and die in the curule chair, defending to the last the
character with which they were clothed. Petion, Buzot, and Gensonne,
inclined to this grave and magnanimous resolution. Barbaroux, without cal-
culating the results, following only the inspirations of his heroic soul, «m
for going and braving his enemies by his presence and his courage. LasUy,
others, and Louvet was the warmest in supporting this opinion, were for
immediately abandoning the Convention, where they could render no further
service, where the Plain had not courage enough to give their votes, and
where the Mountain and the tribunes were determined to drown their voices
by yells. They proposed to retire to their respective departments, to foment
insurrection which had all but broken out there, and to return in for
Paris, to avenge the laws and the national representation. Each maintained
his opinion and they knew not which to adopt. The sound of the tocsin
and the gem' rale obliged the unfortunate party to leave the table, and to seek
an asylum before they had come to any resolution. They first repaired to
the abode of one of them, Meilhan, who was least compromised and not
included in the famous list of the twenty-two, who had before received theni,
and who had very spacious lodgings, where they could meet in arms.
Thither they repaired in haste, excepting some who had other means of con-
cealing themselves.
The Convention had assembled at the sound of the tocsin. Very few
members were present, and all those of the right side were not there. I.an-
juinais alone, resolved to brave every danger, had gone thither to denounce
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 189
the plot, the revelation of which gave no new information to any one. After
avery stormy hut very brief sitting, the Convention answered the petitioners
that, in consequence of the decree which enjoined the committee of public
welfare to make a report to it on the twenty-two, it could take no farther
measure on the new demand of the commune. It broke uj> in disorder, and
the conspirators deferred till the next morning the definitive execution of
their design.
The <j;rnt>rale and the tocsin kept pealing the whole night between Satur-
day and Sunday the 2d of June, 1793. The alarm-gun was fired, and at
daybreak all the population of Paris was in arms. Nearly eighty thousand
men were drawn up around the Convention, but more than sixty-five thou-
sand took no part in the event, and merely attended with muskets on their
shoulders. Some trusty battalions of gunners were ranged, under the com-
mand of Henriot,* around the National Palace. They had one hundred and
sixty-three pieces of cannon, caissons, furnaces for heating balls, lighted
matches, and all the military apparatus capable of awing the imagination. It
was contrived that the battalions, whose departure for La Vendee had been
delayed, should enter Paris early in the morning ; they had been irritated
by being persuaded that there existed plots, that they had been discovered,
that the leaders were in the Convention, and that they must be torn from its
bosom. These battalions, thus tutored, had marched from the Champs
Elysees to the Madeleine, from the Madeleine to the boulevard, and from
the boulevard to the Carrousel, ready to execute whatever the conspirators
should command.
Thus the Assembly, surrounded by no more than a few thousand enthu-
siasts, appeared to be besieged by eighty thousand men. Without being
really besieged, however, it was not the less involved in all the dangers of a
siege ; for the few thousands immediately about it were ready to commit any
act of violence against it.
The deputies of every side had repaired to the sitting. The Mountain,
the Plain, the right side, occupied their benches. The proscribed deputies,
most of whom were at Meilhan's, where they had passed the night, were
desirous also of repairing to their post. Buzot struggled hard to get away
from those who held him, that he might go and expire in the bosom of the
Convention. Barbaroux alone, having succeeded in escaping, had gone to
the Convention to display on that day great moral courage. The others
were prevailed upon to remain together in their retreat, and there to await
the issue of that terrible sitting.
The sitting commenced, and Lanjuinais, bent on making the utmost efforts
to enforce respect for the national representation, — Lanjuinais, whom neither
the tribunes, nor the Mountain, nor the imminence of the danger, could
daunt — was the first to demand permission to speak. At this demand the
most violent murmurs were raised. " I come," said he, " to submit to you
the means of quelling the new commotions with which you are threatened !"
There were shouts of " down ! down ! he wants to produce a civil war." —
" So long," resumed Lanjuinais, "as it is allowed to raise one's voice here,
I will not let the character of representative of the people be degraded in my
person ! Thus far you have done nothing, you have suffered everything ;
you have sanctioned all that was required of you. An insurrectional assem-
bly meets, it appoints a committee charged to prepare revolt, a provisional
• " Henriot, commander-general of the armed force of Paris, was a fierce, ignorant
entirely devoted to the Jacobin interest." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
M
190 HISTORY OF THE
commandant charged to head the revolters : and all this you suffer — this
assembly, this committee, this commandant!" Tremendous cries every
moment interrupted the speech of Lanjuinais : at length, so strong became
the rage which he excited, that several deputies of the Mountain, Drouet,*
Robespierre the younger, Julien,t and Legendre, ran to the tribune, and
attempted to drag him from it. Lanjuinais resisted, and clung to it with
tenacity. All parts of the Assembly were agitated, and the howls of the
tribunes contributed to render this the most frightfid scene that had yet been
exhibited. The president put on his hat, and succeeded in gaining a h
ing. " The scene which has just taken place," said he, " is most afflicting.
Liberty will perish, if you continue to behave thus. I call you to order,
you who have made such an attack on the tribune !" Some degree of order
was restored, and Lanjuinais, who was not afraid of chimerical propositions
when they evinced courage, moved that the revolutionary authorities of Paris
should be dissolved — or, in other words, that those who were disarmed
should control those in arms. Scarcely had he concluded, when the peti-
tioners of the commune again made their appearance. Their language was
more laconic and more resolute than ever. " The citizens of Paris have
been under arms for these four days. For four days past they have been
claiming of their representatives their rights, unworthily violated ; and for
four days past their representatives have been laughing at their calmness and
their inaction. ... It is necessary to put the conspirators in a state of
provisional arrest; it is necessary to save the people forthwith, or the
people will save themselves !" No sooner had the petitioners ceased speak-
ing, than Billaud-Varennes, and Tallien, demanded a report on the petition,
before any other business was taken up. Others, in great number, called
for the order of the day. At length, the Assembly, roused by the danger,
rose amidst tumult, and voted the order of the day, on the ground that the
committee of public safety had been ordered to present a report in three
days. On this decision the petitioners withdrew, shouting, making threat-
ening gestures and evidently carrying concealed arms. All the men who
were in the tribunes retired, as if for the purpose of executing some plan,
and the women alone were left. A great noise without was heard, together
* "Jean Baptiste Drouet, postmaster at St. Menehould, was born in 1763. It was he
who recognized the King in his flight, and caused him to be arrested at Varennes. In 1792
he was chosen member of the Convention and voted for the death of Louis. In the autumn
of the following year he was sent to the army of the North, was taken prisoner, and carried
to Moravia ; where, having attempted to escape by springing from a window, he broke his
leg, and was retaken. In 1795 he obtained his liberty, and entered the council of Five
Hundred. Dissatisfied with the moderate system which then prevailed in France, he became
with Habceuf, one of the leaders of the Jacobin conspiracy, on which account he was arrested,
but made his escape into Switzerland. He was finally acquitted, and returned to France.
In 1799 he was sub-prefect at St. Menehould. During the " Hundred Days" he was a mem-
ber of the chamber of deputies, but, in 1816, was banished from France as a regicide." —
Encyclopxdia Americana. E.
f " Julien of La Drome, a rank Jacobin, was commissioner of the committee of public
safety during the Reign of Terror. After the establishment of the Directory, he edited a
journal entitled the ' Plebeian Orator,' the expenses of which were defrayed by government.
He accompanied the expedition to Egypt as war commissioner ; and, in the year 1806, was
sub-inspector of the revenues." — Biogruphie Moderne. E.
" Julien, when only eighteen years of age, was sent from Paris on a mission to Bordeaux,
to prevent an insurrection against the Mountain, and to inquire into the conduct of Ysabcau
and Tallien. Here he made himself notorious by his cruelties, and was even heard tfl
claim one day in the popular society, that if milk was the food of old men, blood was that of
the children of liberty, who rested on a bed of corpses." — Prudhommc. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 1'Jl
with repealed erics of " To arms I to arms /" At tliis moment several
deputies represented to the Assembly that the determination which it had
taken was imprudent, that an v\u\ ought to he put to a dangerous erisis by
granting what was demanded, and ordering the provisional arrest of the
twenty-two accused deputies. •• We will all, all of us go to prison/
claimed Lareveillere-Lepeaux.* Cambou then informed the Assembly that
in half-an-hour the committee of public safety would make its report. The
report had been ordered in three days, hut the danger becoming more and
more pressing, had induced the committee to use despatch. Barren accord-
ingly appeared at the tribune, and proposed Carat's idea, which had the
evening before moved all the members of the committee, which Danton had
warmly embraced, which Robespierre had rejected, and which consisted in
the voluntary and reciprocal exile of the leaders of the two parties. Ham re,
as he could not propose it to the Mountaineers, proposed it to the twenty-
two. " The committee," said he, " has not had time to investigate any
fact, to hear any witness ; but, considering the political and moral state of
the Convention, it conceives that the voluntary secession of the deputies in
question would be productive of the happiest effect, and save the republic
from a disastrous crisis, the issue of which it was frightful to anticipate."
No sooner had he finished speaking, than Isnard mounted the tribune. He
said that, since an individual was to be put in the balance against the country,
he should no longer hesitate, and that he was ready to give up, not only his
functions, but his life, if necessary. Lanthenas followed the example of
Isnard, and resigned his functions. Fauchet offered his resignation and his
life to the republic. Lanjuinais, who was not convinced of the propriety
of yielding, appeared at the tribune. ** I conceive," said he, " that, up to this
moment, I have shown resolution enough for you not to expect of me either
suspension or resignation." At these words, cries burst from the Assembly.
He cast a look of assurance at those who interrupted him. " The sacrificer
of old," said he, " when he dragged a victim to the altar, covered it with
flowers and chaplets, and did not insult it. The sacrifice of our powers is
required ; but the sacrifice ought to be free, and we are not free. We can-
not leave this place either by the doors or the windows ; the guns are pointed ;
we dare not utter our sentiments : I shall say no more." Barbaroux fol-
lowed Lanjuinais, and with equal courage refused the resignation required
of him. " If," said he, " the Convention enjoins my resignation, I will
submit ; but how can I resign my powers when a great number of the de-
partments write to me, and assure me that I have used them well, and exhort
me to continue to use them ? I have sworn to die at my post, and I will
• " Lareveilliere-Lepeaux, born in 1753, studied at Angers, and afterwards went to Paris,
intending to t>ecome an advocate there. Instead of this, however, he returned to his native
place, devoted himself to botany, and became professor of that science at Angers, where he
established a botanic garden. Being deputed to the States-general, he excited attention by
the hatred he showed to the higher orders. On being appointed a member of the Conven-
tion, he voted for the King's death. Though attached to the Gironde, he managed to escape
the proscription of that party, and lay concealed during the whole Reign of Terror. He
afterwards became one of the council of the Ancients, and then of the Directory. He was
unwearied in labour, but his want of decision always excluded him from any influence in
important affairs, and he made himself ridiculous by his whim of becoming the chief of the
sect of the Theophilanthropists. In 1799 he was driven from the Directory, and returned
again to his favourite books and plants." — Biographic Moderne. E.
" It was well known that die fear of being hanged was Lareveilleire-Lepeaux's ruling
sentiment." — Laearriere. E.
* <i*V
192 HISTORY OF THE
keep my oath." Dussaulx* offered his resignation. "What!" exclaimed
Marat, " ought we to allow culprits the honour of devoting themselves. A
man must be pure to offer sacrifices to his country ; it is for me, a real
martyr, to devote myself: I offer, then, my suspension from the moment
that you shall have ordered the arrest of the accused deputies. " But,"
added Marat, M the list is faulty ; instead of that old gossip, Dussaulx, that
weak-minded Lanthenas, and Ducos, — guilty only of some erroneous opi-
nions, Fermont and Valaze, who deserve to be there, but are not, ought to be
placed in it."
At this moment a great noise was heard at the doors of the hall. Lacroix
entered in violent agitation, loudly complaining that the assembly was not
free ; that he attempted to leave the hall, but had been prevented. Though
a Mountaineer and a partisan of the arrest of the twenty-two, Lacroix was
indignant at the conduct of the commune, which had caused the deputies to
be shut up in the National Palace.
After the refusal to take any proceedings upon the petition of the com-
mune, the sentries at all the doors had been ordered not to suffer a single
deputy to depart. Several had in vain attempted to slip away. Gorsas
alone had contrived to escape, and hastened to warn the Girondins who had
remained at Meilhan's to conceal themselves wherever they could, and not
to go to the Assembly. Boissy d'Anglas,t having gone to one of the doors,
was grossly ill-treated, and returned showing his clothes rent in pieces.
At this sight the whole assembly was filled with indignation, and even the
Mountain was astonished. The authors of this order were sent for, and an
illusory decree was passed summoning the commandant of the armed force
to the bar.
Barrere then spoke, and expressed himself with a resolution that was not
usual with him. He said that the assembly was not free; that it was delibe-
rating under the control of concealed tyrants ; that in the insurrectional com-
mittee there were men who could not be relied on, suspected foreigners, such
as Gusman the Spaniard, and others ; that at the door of the hall five-livre
assignats were distributing among the battalions destined for La Vendue ;
* "J. Dussaulx, born at Chartres in 1728, was the son of a lawyer. He served in the
campaign of Hanover, under Marshal Richelieu, and gained the esteem of King Stanislaus.
Returning to Paris, he brought out a translation of Juvenal, and in 1776 was made a member
of the Academy of Inscriptions. Becoming a member of the Convention, he voted for the
King's detention and his banishment on a peace. In 1796 he was appointed president of
the council of Ancients. He died in 1799 after along and afflicting illness. He was the
author of several works of which the best is his translation of Juvenal's satires." — Biographic
Moderne. E.
f " Boissy d'Anglas, barrister in the parliament, maitre d 'hotel to Monsieur, was in 1789
deputed to the States-general. In 1792 he was elected to the Convention, and voted for the
King's detention, till banishment should be thought proper. Having survived the Reign of
Terror, he was chosen secretary to the tribune, and particularly intrusted with the care of
watching that Paris was properly supplied with provisions. In 1795, at the moment when
he was beginning a report on this subject, he was interrupted by a mob of both sexes, who,
having broken through the guard, were crying out, ' Bread, bread, and the constitution of
1793.' This tumult having been quelled, a fresh one broke out a few days after, when
Boissy d'Anglas, who was seated in the president's chair, was several limes aimed at by
twenty guns at once. One of the rioters placed himself right before him, carrying at the
end of a pike the head of the deputy Ferraud, when Boissy showed a coolness which was
not without effect upon the mob, and for which next day he received the universal applause
of the tribune. In 1796 he was appointed president of the council of Five Hundred : and in
1805 became a member of the senate, and commandant of the Legion of Honour." — Biogra-
phic Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 193
and that it was right to ascertain whether the Convention was yet respected
or not. In consequence, be proposed that the whole Assembly should go
in a body among the armed force, to satisfy itself that it had nothing to fear
and that its authority was still recognised. This proposal already made by
Garat on the 25th of May, and renewed by Vergniaud on the 31st, was im-
mediately adopted. llerault-Sechelles, to whom recourse was had on all
difficult occasions, was put at the head of the assembly as president, and the
whole right side and the Plain rose to follow him. The Mountain alone
kept its place. The last deputies of the right turned back and reproached it
for declining to share the common danger. The tribunes, on the contrary,
made signs to the Mountaineers not to leave their seats, as if some great
danger threatened them outside the hall. The Mountaineers, nevertheless,
yielded from a feeling of shame ; and the whole Convention, with Herault-
Sechelles at its head, proceeded into the courts of the National Palace, and
to the side towards the Carrousel. It arrived opposite to the gunners, at the
head of whom was Henriot. The president addressed him, and desired him
to open a passage for the Assembly. " You shall not leave this place," said
Henriot, " till you have delivered up the twenty-two." — "Seize this rebel!"
said the president to the soldiers. Henriot backed his horse, and turned to
his gunners. " Gunners, to your pieces !" said he. Some one, immediately
grasping llerault-Sechelles firmly by the arm, drew him another way. The
Assembly proceeded to the garden to experience the same treatment. Some
groups were shouting " The nation for ever!'''' others " The Convention
forever!" " Marat for ever .'" "Down with the right side!" Outside
the garden, battalions otherwise disposed than those which surrounded the
Carrousel, made signs to the deputies to come and join them. The Con-
vention was advancing for the purpose to the Pont Tournant, but there it
found another battalion, which prevented its egress from the garden. At
this moment, Marat, surrounded by a few boys crying " Marat for ever!''''
approached the president, and said to him, " I summon the deputies who
have quitted their post to return to it."
The Assembly, whose repeated attempts only served to prolong its humi-
liation, accordingly returned to the hall of its sittings, and each resumed his
place. Couthon then ascended the tribune. "You see clearly," said he,
with an assurance which confounded the Assembly, " that you are respected,
obeyed by the people, and that you can vote on the question which is sub-
mitted to you. Lose no time, then, in complying with their wishes." Le-
gendre proposed to exempt from the list of the twenty-two those who had
offered their resignation ; and from the list of the twelve, Boyer-Fonfrede*
and St. Martin, who had opposed the arbitrary arrests ; and to put in their
stead Lebrun and Clavieres. Marat insisted that Lanthenas, Ducos, and
Dussaulx should be erased from die list, and Fermont and Valaze added to
it. These suggestions were adopted, and the assembly was ready to proceed
to vote. The Plain, being intimidated, began to say that, after all, the depu-
ties placed under arrest at their own homes were not so very much to be
pitied, and that it was high time to put an end to this frightful scene. The
right side demanded a call of the Assembly, to make the members of the
belly ashamed of their weakness ; but one of them pointed out to his col-
• " Boyer-Fonfrede was born at Bordeaux. Being appointed deputy from the Gironde
to the Convention, he vigorously opposed Marat and the Mountain. He escaped the first
proscription of the Girondins, but perished on the scaffold in 1793." — Scott's Life of Na-
poleon. E.
vol. ii.— 25 R
194 HISTORY OF THE
leagues an honest way of extricating themselves from this dilemma. He
said that he should not vote because he was not free. The others following
his example, refused to vote. The Mountain alone, and some other mem-
bers, then voted that the deputies denounced by the commune should be put
under arrest.
Such was the celebrated scene of the 2d of June, better known by the
name of the 31st of May. It was a real 10th of August against the national
representation ; for, the deputies once under arrest at their own homes, th
was nothing more to do than to make them mount the scaffold ; and that
was no difficult task.
Here finishes one principal era of the Revolution, which served as a
preparation to the most terrible and the most important of all ; and of the
whole of which it is necessary to take a general survey in order to form ■
due estimate of it.
On the 10th of August, the Revolution, no longer able to repress its dis-
trust, attacked the palace of the monarch .to deliver itself from apprehensions
which had become insupportable. The first movement was to suspend
Louis XVI., and to defer his fate till the approaching meeting of the National
Convention. The monarch being suspended, and the power rem'aining in the
hands of the different popular authorities, the question then arose, how this
power was to be employed. The dissensions which had already began to
manifest themselves between the partisans of moderation and those of inex-
orable energy, then broke forth without reserve. The commune, compo
of all the energetic men, attacked the legislature, and insulted it by threaten-
ing to sound the tocsin. At this moment, the coalition instigated by the
10th of August, hastened to advance. The increasing danger provoked a
still greater degree of violence, caused moderation to be decried, and im-
pelled the passions to their greatest excesses. Longwy and Verdun fell
into the hands of the enemy. On the approach of Brunswick, the advocates
of energetic measures anticipated the cruelties which he had threatened in
his manifestoes, and struck terror into his hidden partisans by the horrihle
days of December. Presently, France, saved by the admirable coolness of
Dumouriez, had time to agitate once more the grand question of a moderate
or a merciless use of power. September became a grievous subject of re-
proach. The moderates were indignant, the violent wished them to be silent
concerning evils which they declared to be inevitable and irreparable. Cruel
■ personalities added individual animosities to animosities of opinion. Discord
was excited to the highest degree. Then came the moment for deciding
upon the fate of Louis XVI. An experiment of the two systems waa made
upon his person : that of moderation was vanquished, that of violence proved
victorious; and, in sacrificing the King, the Revolution broke definitively
with royalty and with all thrones.
The coalition, instigated by the 21st of January, as it had been by the 10th
of August, began to bestir itself again, and caused us to sustain revert
Dumouriez stopped in his progress by contrary circumstances and by the
derangement of all the administrations, was exasperated against the Jacobins,
to whom he attributed all his reverses : throwing oflT his political indifference,
he suddenly declared himself in favour of moderation, compromised it In-
employing his sword and foreigners in its behalf, and was at length wrecked
upon the Revolution, after placing the republic in the greatest danger. At
this moment, La Vendue rose. The departments, hitherto moderate, be-
came threatening. Never had the Revolution been in greater danger. Re-
verses, treasons, furnished the Jacobins with a pretext for calumniating the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 195
moderate republicans, and a motive for demanding a judicial and executive
dictatorship. They .proposed die experiment of a revolutionary tribunal
and of a committee of public safety. Warm disputes on this subject ensued.
On these questions, the two parties proceeded to the utmost extremities.
They could no longer exist together. On the 10th of March the Jacobins
aimed a blow at the leaders of the Girondins, but their attempt being pre-
mature failed. They then prepared themselves better. They provok< d
petitions, they excited the sections, and urged them into illegal insurrection.
The Girondins resisted by instituting a commission authorized to investigate
the plots of their adversaries ; this commission acted against the Jacobins,
roused their vengeance, and was swept away in a storm. Replaced on the
following day, it was again swept away by the tremendous tempest of the
31st of May. Finally, on the 2d of June, its members and the deputies
whom it was to defend, were torn from the bosom of the national repre-
sentation, and, like Louis XVI., reserved for a period until the violence
should be sufficient to send them to die scaffold.
Such then is the space that we have traversed between the 10th of August
and the 31st of May. It is a long conflict between the two systems on the
employment of means. The continually increasing danger imparted con-
tinually increasing virulence and rancour to the quarrel : and the generous
deputation of the Gironde, exhausted by its efforts to avenge September, to
prevent the 21st of January, the revolutionary tribunal, and the committee
of public welfare, expired when the still greater danger had rendered violence
more urgent, and moderation less admissible. Now, all legality being over-
come, all remonstrance stifled with the suspension of the Girondins, and the
danger having become more alarming than ever, by means of the very insur-
rection that attempts to avenge the Gironde, violence breaks forth without
obstacle or measure, and the terrible dictatorship, composed of the revolu-
tionary tribunal and the committee of public safety is completed.
Here commence scenes a hundred times more awful and more horrible
than any of those which roused the indignation of the Girondins. As for
them, their history is finished. All that remains to be added to it, is the
account of their heroic death. Their opposition was dangerous, their indig-
nation impolitic : they compromised the Revolution, liberty, and France ; they
compromised moderation itself, by defending it with acrimony ; and in dying
they involved in their ruin all that was most generous and most enlightened
in France. Yet who would not have acted their part ? who would not have
committed their faults ? Is it possible, in fact, to suffer blood to be spilt
without resistance and without indignation?*
• "Thus fell without a blow struck or sword drawn in their defence, that party in the
Convention which claimed the praise of acting upon pure republican principles ; which had
overturned the throne, and led the way to anarchy merely to perfect an ideal theory. They
fell, as the wisest of them admitted, dupes to their own system, nnd to the impracticable idea
of ruling a large and corrupt empire by the motives which may sway a small and virtuous
community. They might, as they too late discovered, have as well attempted to found the
Capitol on a bottomless and quaking marsh, as their pretended republic in a country like
France. Their violent revolutionary expedients, the means by which they acted, were
turned against them by men, whose ends were worse than their own." — Scott's Life of
Napoleon. E.
"Thus fell the Gironde, the true representatives of liberty ; men of enlightened minds, of
patriotic sentiments, and mild and moderate principles ; but who necessarily gave place to
those men of violence and blood, who, rising out of the perilous and unnatural situation in
which the republic was placed, were perhaps alone fitted, by their furious fanaticism and dis-
regard of all ordinary feelings, to carry the Revolution triumphantly through its liffiatlties,
196 HISTORY OF THE
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
STATE OF FRANCE AFTER THE THIRTY-FIRST OF MAY— INSURREC-
TION OF THE DEPARTMENTS— INVASION OF THE FRONTIERS.
The decree passed on the 2d of June against the twenty-two deputies of
the right side and the members of the commission of twelve enacted that they
should be confined at their own homes, and closely guarded by gendarmes.
Some voluntarily submitted to this decree, and constituted themselves in
state of arrest, to prove their obedience to the law and to provoke a judgment
which should demonstrate their innocence. Gensonne and Valaze might
easily have withdrawn themselves from the vigilance of their guards, but
they firmly refused to seek safety in flight. They remained prisoners with
their colleagues, Guadet, Petion, Vergniaud, Biroteau, Gardien, Boileau,
Bertrand, Mollevaut, and Gomaire. Some others, conceiving that they owed
no obedience to a law extorted by force, and having no hope of justice,
quitted Paris or concealed themselves there till they should be able to get
away. Their intention was to repair to the departments, and excite them to
rise against the capital. Those who took this resolution were Bribe
Gorsas, Salles, Louvet, Cambon, Buzot, Lydon, Rabaut St. Etienne, La-
source, Grangeneuve, Lesage, Vige, Lariviere, and Bergoing. An order of
arrest was issued by the commune against the two ministers Lebrun and
Clavieres, dismissed after the 2d of June. Lebrun found means to evade it.
The same measure was taken against Roland, who had been removed from
office on the 21st of January, and begged in vain to be permitted to render
his accounts. He escaped the search made for him by the commune, and
concealed himself at Rouen. Madame Roland, against whom also proceed-
ings were instituted, had no other anxiety than that of favouring the escape
of her husband ; then, committing her daughter to the care of a trusty friend,
she surrendered with noble indifference to the committee of her section, and
Was thrown into prison with a multitude of other victims of the 31st oi" May.
Great was the joy at the Jacobins. Its members congratulated themselves
on the energy of the people, on their late admirable conduct, and on the re-
moval of all those obstacles which the rijjht side had not eessed to oppose
to the progress of the Revolution. According to the custom after all great
events, they agreed upon the manner in which the last insurrection should
be represented. "The people," said Robespierre, "have confounded all
their calumniators by their conduct. Eighty thousand men have been under
arms for nearly a week, yet no property has been violated, not a drop of
blood has been spilled, and they have thus proved whether it was their aim,
as it has been alleged, to profit by the disorder for the commissien of murder
by opposing remorseless hatred to the persevering efforts of tyranny without, and cruelty and
the thirst of vengeance, to treachery and malice within. Virtue was not strong enough lor
this fiery ordeal, and it was necessary to oppose the vices of anarchy, to the vices of despot-
uan."—Hazlitt't Life of Napoleon.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 19"?
and plunder. Their insurrection was spontaneous, because it was the effect
of the general conviction ; and the Mountain itself, weak and astonished ;it
this movement, has proved that it did not concur to produce it. Thus this
insurrection has been wholly moral and wholly popular."
This was at once giving a favourable colour to the insurrection, addressing
an indirect censure to the Mountain, which had shown some hesitation on
the 2d of June, repelling the charge of conspiracy preferred against the
leaders of the left side, and agreeably flattering the popular party, which had
behaved so well and done everything of itself. After this interpretation,
received with acclamation by the Jacobins, and afterwards repeated by all
the echoes of the victorious party, no time was lost in calling Marat to ac-
count for an expression which excited considerable sensation. Marat, who
could never find more than one way of putting an end to the revolutionary
hesitations, namely, the dictatorship, on seeing some tergiversation on the 2d
of June, had repeated on that day, as he did on every other, TVe must have
a chief. Being called upon to explain this expression, he justified it after his
usual fashion, and the Jacobins were easily satisfied, conceiving that they
had sufficiently proved their scruples and the severity of their republican
principles. Some observations were also made on the lukewarmness of
Danton, who seemed to be much softened since the suppression of the com-
mission of twelve, and whose resolution, kept up till the 31st of May, had
not lasted till the 2d of June. Danton was absent. His friend Camille-
Desmoulins defended him warmly, and an end was speedily put to this
explanation, out of delicacy for so important a personage, and to avoid too
delicate discussions ; for, though the insurrection was consummated, it was
far from being universally approved of by the victorious party. It was in
fact well known that the committee of public welfare, and many of the
Mountaineers, had beheld this popular political manoeuvre with alarm. The
thing being done, it was necessary to profit by it without subjecting it to dis-
cussion. It became, therefore, immediately a matter of consideration how
to turn the victory to a speedy and profitable account.
To this end there were different measures to be taken. To renew the
committees, in which were included all the partisans of the right side, to
secure by means of the committees the direction of affairs, to change the
ministers, to keep a vigilant eye upon the correspondence, to stop dangerous
publications at the post-office, to suffer only such as were ascertained to be
useful to be despatched to the provinces, (for, said Robespierre, the liberty
of the press ought to be complete, no doubt, but it should not be employed
to ruin liberty,) to raise forthwith the revolutionary army, the institution of
which was decreed, and the intervention of which was urgent for carrying
the decrees of the Convention into execution in the interior, to effect the
forced loan of one thousand millions from the rich — such were the means
proposed and unanimously adopted by the Jacobins. But a last measure
was deemed more necessary than all the others, that was the framing of a
republican constitution within a week. It was of importance to prove that
the opposition of the Oirondins had alone prevented the accomplishment of
this >rreat task, to restore confidence to France by good laws, and to present
it with a compact of union around which it might rally wholly and entirely.
Such was the wish expressed at once by the Jacobins, the Cordeliers, the
sections, and the commune.
The Convention, awfrding W 'his irresistible wish repeated ia M many
-. renewed all its committees of general liinnccs. of '
tion, &c. The committee of public welfare, which was a!
198 HISTORY OF THE
oaded with business, and not yet sufficiently suspected to permit all its
members to be abruptly dismissed, was alone retained. Lebrun was suc-
ceeded in the foreign affairs by Deforgues,* and Clavieres in the finances by
Destournelles. The sketch of a constitution presented by Condorcet, agree-
ably to the views of the Girondins, was considered as not received ; and the
committee of public welfare was to present another within a week. Five
members were added to it for this duty. Lastly, it received orders to pre-
pare a plan for carrying the forced loan into effect, and another for the orga-
nization of the revolutionary army.
The sittings of the Convention had an entirely new aspect after the 31st
of May. They were silent, and almost all the decrees were passed without
discussion. The right side and a part of the centre did not vote ; they
seemed to protest by their silence against all the decisions taken since the
2d of June, and to be waiting for news from the departments. .Marat had,
in his justice, thought fit to suspend himself till his adversaries, the Giron-
dins, should be brought to trial. Meanwhile, he said, he renounced his
functions, and was content to enlighten the Convention by his paper. The
two deputies, Doulcett and Fonfrede of Bourdeaux, alone broke the silence
of the Assembly. Doulcet denounced the committee of insurrection, which
had not ceased to meet at the Eveche, and which, stopping packets at the
post-office, broke the seals and sent them open to their address marked with
its own stamp, bearing these words : Revolution of the 31s£ of May. The
Convention passed to the order of the day. Fonfrede, a member of the
commission of twelve, but excepted from the decree of arrest, because he had
opposed the measures of that commission, ascended the tribune, and moved
the execution of the decree which directed a report concerning the prisoners
to be presented within three days. This motion caused some tumult. " It
is necessary," said Fonfrede, " to prove as speedily as possible the inno-
cence of our colleagues. I have remained here for no other purpose than to
defend them, and I declare to you that an armed force is advancing from
Bordeaux to avenge the violence offered to them." Loud cries followed
these words. The motion of Fonfrede was set aside by the order of the
day, and the Assembly immediately sunk back into profound silence. These,
said the Jacobins, were the last croakings of the toads of the fen.
The threat thrown out by Fonfrede from- the tribune was not an empty
one, for not only the people of Bordeaux, but the inhabitants of almost all
of the departments were ready to take up arms against the Convention.
* " Deforgues was at first a member of the municipality which established itself at Paris in
1792 ; he afterwards made a figure in the committee of public safety of that commune, to
which have been attributed the September massacres. By the influence of Herault-Sechelles,
he was made minister for foreign affairs, but, having been suspected of moderation, he was
apprehended in 1791. He recovered his liberty however, in the same ye:»r ; and in 1799
was sent ambassador to Holland, and recalled after the revolution of the ISth Brumaire. He
then l>ecame commissioner-general of police at Nantes: and in 1801 was appointed French
consul at New Orleans." — Bio<;ni/)/iic Moderne. E.
f " G. Doulcet, Marquis de l'ontecoulant, son of the major-general of the King's body-
guards, in 1792 was appointed deputy to the Convention. In the following year he declared
Louis guilty of high treason, voted for his banishment at a peace, and his confinement till
that period. Soon afterwards a decree of accusation was passed against him as an accom-
plice of Brissot, and he was compelled to llv. He owed his safety to Madame Lejay, a
bookseller, who kept him concealed in her house, and whom ho married in gratitude for this
signal service. In 1791 Doulcet re-entered the Convention, and in the following year was
chosen president. He was afterwards fleeted into the council of five Hundred. In the year
1S05 he was summoned to take a seat in the Conservative Senate, and was appointed com-
mander of the Legion of Honour." — Biographic Modcrne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 199
Their discontent had certainly preceded the 2d of June, and had begun with
the quarrels between the Mountaineers and the Girondins. It ought to be
recollected that, throughout all France, the municipalities and tin- sections
were divided. The partisans of the Mountaineer system occupied the mu-
nicipalities and the clubs; the moderate republicans, who, amidst the crises
of the Revolution, were desirous of preserving the ordinary equity, had, on
the contrary, all withdrawn into the sections. In several cities a rupture
had already taken place. At Marseilles, the sections had stripped the muni-
cipality of its powers, and transferred them to a central committee ; they
had, moreover, instituted of their own motion a popular tribunal for trying
the patriots accused of revolutionary excesses. Bayle and Boisset, the
commissioners, had in vain annulled this committee and this tribunal ; their
authority was contemned, and the sections had continued in permanent in-
surrection against the Revolution. At Lyons, a bloody batUe had been
fought. The point in dispute was, whether a municipal resolution of the
14th of July, directing the institution of a revolutionary army and the levy
of a war-tax upon the rich, should be executed or not. The sections which
opposed it had declared themselves permanent : the municipality attempted
to dissolve them ; but aided by the directory of the department, they had
resisted. On the 29th of May they had come to blows, notwithstanding
the presence of the two commissioners of the Convention, who had made
ineffectual efforts to prevent the conflict. The victorious sections had
stormed the arsenal and the town-hall, turned out the municipality, shut up
the Jacobin club, where Chalier excited the most violent storms, and as-
sumed the sovereignty of Lyons. In this contest some hundreds had been
killed. Nioche and Gauthier, the representatives, had been confined for a
whole day ; being afterwards delivered, they had retired to their colleagues,
Albite and Dubois-Crance, with whom they were engaged in a mission to
the army of the Alps.
Such was the state of Lyons and of the South towards the end of May.
Bordeaux did not present a more cheering aspect. That city, with all those
of the West, of Bretagne, and of Normandy, waited until the threats so long
repeated against the deputies of the provinces should be realized before they
took any active measures. It was while thus hesitating that the departments
learned the events of the end of May. Those of the 27lh, when the com-
mission of twelve had been for the first time suppressed, had already caused
considerable irritation; and on all sides it was proposed to pass resolutions
condemnatory of the proceedings in Paris. The 31st of May and the 2d
of June raised the indignation to its highest pitch. Rumour, which magni-
fies everything, exaggerated the circumstances. It was reported that thirty-
two deputies had been murdered by the commune ; that the public coffers
had been plundered ; that the brigands of Paris had seized the supreme
power, and were going to transfer it either to the foreign enemy, or to Marat,
or Orleans. People met to draw up petitions, and to make preparations for
armintr themselves against the capital. At this moment the fugitive deputies
arrived, to report themselves what had happened, and to give more consist-
ency to the movements which were breaking out in all quarters.
Besides those who had at first fled, several made their escape from the
gendarmes, and others even quitted the Convention for the purpose of fo-
menting the insurrection. Gensonne, Valaze, and Vergmauu, persisted in
remaining, saying that if it was useful for one portion of them to go to rouse
the zeal of the departments, it was also useful for the others to remain as
hostages in the hands of their enemies, in order to prove by a trial, and at
200 HISTORY OF THE
the risk of their lives, the innocence of all their party. Buzot, who never
would submit to the decree of the 2d of June, repaired to his department, that
of the Eure, to excite a movement among the Normans. Gotsas followed
him with a similar intention. Meilhan, who had not been arrested, but who
had given an asylum to his colleagues on the nights between the :*lst of
May and the 2d of June, Duchatel, called by the .Mountaineers the spectre
of the 21st of January, because he had risen from a sick bed to vote in
favour of Louis XVI., quitted the Convention for the purpose of rousing Ure-
tagne. Biroteau escaped from the gendarmes, and went with Chassel to
direct the movements of the Lyonnese. Rebecqui, as. the pre*
baroux, who was still detained, repaired to the Bonches-du-Rhi »att1
St Etienne fastened to Nimes, to persuade Langoedoc to concur in the
general movement against the oppressors of the Convention.
So early as the 13th of June the department of the Eure assembled, and
gave the first signal of insurrection. The Convention, it alleged, being no
longer free, it became the duty of all good citizens to restore it to liberty.
It therefore resolved that a force of four thousand men should be raised for
the purpose of marching to Paris, and that commissioners should be sent to
all the neighbouring departments to exhort them to follow this example, and
to concert their operations. The department of Calvados, sittiiifr al Caen,
caused the two deputies, Rome and Prieur, of the Cote-d'Or, sent by the
Convention to accelerate the organization of the army of the coast mar
Cherbourg, to be arrested. It was agreed that the departments of Normandy
should hold an extraordinary meeting at Caen, in order to form themsi
into a federation. All the departments of Bretagne, such as those of the
Cdtes-du-Nord, Finistere, Morbihan, Ile-et-Vilaine, Mayenne, and tin- Loire*
Inferieure, passed similar resolutions, and despatched commissioner
Rennes, for the purpose of establishing there the central authority of Hre-
tagne. The departments of the basin of Loire, excepting those occupied by
the Vendeans, followed the general example, and even proposed to send com-
missioners to Bourges, in order to form there a Convention composed of two
deputies of each department, with the intention of going to destroy the
usurping or oppressed Convention sitting at Paris.
At Bordeaux the excitement was extreme. All the constituted authorities
met in an assembly called the Popular Commission of Public If'r/furr. and
declared that the Convention was no longer free, and that it ought to b<
at liberty. They resolved, in consequence, that an armed force should be
forthwith raised, and that, in the meantime, a petition should be addn
to the National Convention, prayinjr it to furnish some explanation, ami to
acquaint them with the truth respecting the proceedings which took pi :
June. They then despatched commissioners to all the departments to invite
them to a general coalition. Toulouse, an old parliamentary city, where
many partisans of the late government were concealed behind the Girondins,
had already instituted a departmental force of a thousand men. Its authori-
ties declared, in the presence of the commissioners sent to the army of the
Pyrenees, that they no longer recognised the Convention: they libei
many persons who had boon imprisoned, confined many others accused of
being Mountaineers, and openly declared that they were ready to form a
federation with the departments of the South. The upper departments of
the Tarn, Lot, and Garonne, Aveynm. Cantal, Pny-de-Dome, and l'II< raulr,
followed the example of Toulouse and Bordeaux. Nimes proclaimed it
in a state of resistance ; Marseilles drew up an exciting petition, a-jai.:
its popular tribunal to work, commenced proceedings against the killers, and
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 201
prepared a force of six thousand men. At Grenoble the sections were con-
voked, and their presidents, in conjunction with the constituted authorities,
took all tin* powers into their own hands, sent deputies to Lyons, and or-
dered l)iihois-( ranee and Gauthier, commissioners of the Convention to the
army of the Alps, to be arrested. The department of the Aine adopted the
same course. Thai of die Jura, which had already raised a corps of cavalry
and a departmental force of eight hundred men, protested, on its part, against
the authority of the Convention. Lastly, at Lyons, where the sections
reigned supreme ever since the battle of the 29th of May,* deputies were
received and despatched for the purpose of concerting with Marseilles, Bor-
deaux, and Caen; proceedings were immediately instituted against Chalier,
president of the Jacobin club, and against several other Mountaineers. Thus
die departments of the North, and those composing the basin of the Seine,
were all that remained under the authority of the Convention. The insurgent
departments amounted to sixty or seventy, and Paris had, with fifteen or
twenty, to resist all the others and to continue the war with Europe.
In Paris, opinions differed respecting the measures that ought to be adopt-
ed. The members of the committee of Public Welfare, Cambon, Barrere,
Breard, Treilhard, and Mathieu, accredited patriots, though they had disap-
proved of the 2d of June, were for resorting to conciliatory measures. It
was requisite, in their opinion, to prove the liberty of the Convention by
energetic measures against the agitators, and, inste#ad of exasperating the de-
partments by severe decrees, to regain them by representing the danger of
civil war in the presence of the foreign foe. Barrere proposed, in the name
of the committee of public welfare, a projet of a decree conceived precisely
in this spirit. According to this projet, the revolutionary committees which
had rendered themselves so formidable by their numerous arrests, were to
be dissolved throughout France, or to be confined to the purpose of their in-
stitution, which was the surveillance of suspected foreigners. The primary
assemblies were to meet in Paris to appoint another commandant of the armed
force instead of Henriot, who had been nominated by the insurgents ; lasdy,
thirty deputies were to be sent to the departments as hostages.
These measures seemed likely to calm and to satisfy the departments.
The suppression of the revolutionary committee would put an end to the
inquisition exercised against suspected persons; the election of a good com-
mandant would insure order in Paris : the thirty deputies would serve at
once as hostages and instruments of reconciliation. The Mountain was not
at all disposed to negotiate. Exercising with a high hand what is called
the national authority, it rejected all conciliatory measures. Robespierre
caused the consideration of the projet of the committee to be adjourned.
Danton, again raising his voice in this perilous conjuncture, took a survey of
the famous crisis of the Revolution, the dangers of September at the moment
of the invasion of Champagne and the capture of Verdun; the dangers of
January, before the condemnation of the late King was decided upon; lasdy,
the much greater dangers of April, while Dumouriez was marching upon
Paris, and La Vendee was rising. The Revolution had, he said, surmounted
• "The city of Lyons was warmly attached to freedom, but it was that regulated freedom
which provides for the protection of all, not that which subjects the better classes to the de-
spoiisui of the lower. Its armed population soon amounted to thirty thousand men. A
military chest was formed ; a paper currency, guaranteed by the principal merchants, issued ;
cannon in great numbers cast at a foundry within the walls; and fortifications, under the
directions of an able engineer, erected upon all the beautiful heights which encircle the city."
—Alison. E.
vol. ii.— 26
202 HISTORY OF THE
all these perils. It had come forth victorious from all these crises, and it
would again come forth victorious from the last. " It is," exclaimed he,
"at the moment of a grand convulsion, that political bodies, like physical
bodies, appear always to be threatened with speedy destruction. What
then ! The thunder rolls, and it is amidst the tempest that the grand work,
which shall establish the prosperity of twenty-four millions of men, will be
produced."
Danton proposed that one general decree should be launched against all
the departments, and that they should be required to retract their proceedings
within twenty-four hours after its reception, upon penalty of being outlawed.
The powerful voice of Danton, which had never been raised in great dan-
gers without infusing new courage, produced its wonted effect. The Con-
vention, though it did not adopt exactly the measures which he proposed,
passed, nevertheless, jhe most energetic decrees. In the first place, it
declared that, as to the 31st of May and the 2d of June, the people of Paris
had, by their insurrection, deserved well of the country ; that the deputies,
who were at first to be put under an arrest at their own homes, and some of
whom had escaped, should be transferred to a prison, to be there detained
like ordinary prisoners ; that there should be a call of all the deputies, and
that those absent without commission or authority, should forfeit their seats,
and others be elected in their stead ; that the departmental or municipal au-
thorities could neither quit their places nor remove from one place to another;
that they could not correspond together, and that all the commissioners sent
from department to department, for the purpose of forming a coalition, were
to be immediately seized by the good citizens and sent to Paris under escort.
After these general measures, the Convention annulled the resolution of the
department of the Eure ; it put under accusation the members of the depart-
ment of Calvados, who had arrested two of its commissioners; it did the
same in regard to Buzot, the instigator of the revolt of the Normans ; it de-
spatched two deputies, Mathieu and Treilhard, to the departments of the Gi-
ronde, Dordogne, and Lot and Garonne, to require them to explain themselves
before they rose in insurrection. It summoned before it the authorities of
Toulouse, dissolved the tribunal of the central committee of Marseilles,
passed a decree against Barbaroux, and placed the imprisoned patriots under
the safeguard of the law. Lastly, it sent Robert Lindet to Lyons, with di-
rections to make an inquiry into the occurrences there, and to report on the
state of that city.
These decrees, successively issued in the course of June, much daunted
the departments unused to combat with the central authority. Intimid
and wavering, they resolved to await the example set them by those depart-
ments which were stronger or more deeply implicated in the quarrel than
themselves.
The administrations of Normandy, excited by the presence of the deputies
who had joined Buzot, such as Barbaroux, Gaudet, Louvet. Salles. 1'etion,
Ongoing, Lesage, Cueey, and Kervelegan, followed up their first proceed-
ings, and fixed at Caen the seat of a central committee of the departmental
The Mure, the Calvados, and the Orne, sent their commissioner! to that city.
The departments of Bretagne, which had at first confederated at iiennes,
resolved to join the ceniril Assembly at Caen, and to send commissioners
it. Accordingly, on the 30th of June, the deputies of Morbihan. Finistere,
the C6tes-du-Nord, Mayenne, Ile-et-Yilaine, and the Loire-Interieure, con-
jointly with those of Calvados, the Eure, and the Orne, constituted them-
selves the central assembly of resistance-to oppression, promised to maintain
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
203
the equality, the unity, and tin- indivisibility of the republic, bat rowed
hatred to anarchists, ami engaged to employ their powers solely to insure
reaped for person, property, and the sovereignty of the people. After thus
constituting themselves, iliey determined that each department should furnish
tnngent, for the purpose; of composing an armed force that was to pro-
ceed to Paris to re-establish the national representation in its integrity.
Felix Wimpfen,* general of the army that was to have been organized along
the coast about Cherbourg, was appointed commander of the departmental
army. Wimpfen accepted the appointment, and immediately assumed the
title that had been conferred on him. Being summoned to Paris by the
minister at war, he replied that there was but one way to make peace, and
that was to revoke the decrees passed since the 31st of May ; that on this
condition the departments would fraternize with the capital, but that, in the
contrary case, lie could only go to Paris at the head of sixty thousand Nor-
mans and Bretons.
The minister, at the same time that he summoned Wimpfen to Paris,
ordered tin- regiment ofdragtfona of La Manche, stationed in Normandy, to
set out immediately for Versailles. On this intelligence, all the confederates
already assembled at Evreux drew up in order of battle ; the national guard
joined them and they cut off the dragoons from the road to Versailles. The
latter, wishing to avoid hostilities, promised not to set out, and fraternized
apparently with the confederates. Their officers wrote secretly to Paris
that they could not obey without commencing a civil war; and they were
then permitted to remain.
The assembly of Caen decided that the Breton battalions which had
already arrived should march from Caen for Evreux, the general rendez-
vous of all the forces. To this point were despatched provisions, arms,
ammunition, and money taken from the public coffers. Thither, too, were
sent officers won over to the cause of federalism, and many secret royalists,
who made themselves conspicuous in all the commotions, and assumed the
mask of republicanism to oppose the revolution. Among the counter-revo-
lutionists of this stamp was one named Puisaye,t who affected extraordinary
zeal for the cause of the Girondins, and whom Wimpfen, a disguised royal-
ist, appointed general of brigade, giving him the command of the advanced
guard already assembled at Evreux. This advanced guard amounted to five
• "Felix Wimpfen, born in 1745, of a family distinguished hut poor, was the youngest
of eighteen children, ami quitted his father's house at the age of eleven. He served in the
Seven Year's war, and distinguished himself on several occasions. Ho was a major-general
in 1789. and embraced the revolutionary party. In 1793 he declared with warmth in favour
of the Girondins, who were proscribed by the Mountain, and took the command of the de-
partmental forces assembled by those proscribed deputies. A price was consequently set on
I. but he concealed himself during the Reign of Terror. In 1806 he was mayor of a
little commune of which he was formerly lord.'' — Biographic Modtrne. E.
•j- "Count J. de Puiaave was destined, as the youngest of four brothers, for the church ;
but at the age of eighteen preferred entering the army. In 17S8 he married the only daugh-
ter of the Marquis de Menilles, a man of large property in Normandy. He was nominated
deputy from the nobli-sse of Pcrche to the States-general; and in 1793 declared against the
Convention and became head of the federal army under Wimpfen. Proscribed by the Con-
vention he t<«>k refuge in Bretagne, made several excursions to England, attached bimtetf to
the interests of that power, and ruined his reputation by the expedition to QuiberOQ. It has
I that Puinye only wanted military talents to be the first party chief the p
ever had. In 1797 England granted him a great extent of land in Canada, whither he went,
and formed an establishment equally brilliant and advantageous. After the ]>race of Amiens
he returned to England and published papers in justification of his conduct." — Biographic
Mudane. E.
204 HISTORY OF THE
or six thousand men, and was daily reinforced by new contingents. The
brave Bretons hastened from all parts, and reported that other battalions
were to follow them in still greater numbers. One circumstance prevented
them from all coming in a mass, that was the necessity for guarding the
coasts of the ocean against the English squadrons, and for sending battalions
against La Vendee, which had already reached the Loire and seemed ready
to cross that river. Though the Bretons residing in the country were de-
voted to the clergy, yet those of the towns were sincere republicans ; and
while preparing to oppose Paris they were not less determined to wage ob-
stinate war with La Vendee.
Such was the state of affairs in Bretagne and Normandy early in July.
In the departments bordering on the Loire the first zeal had cooled. Com-
missioners of the Convention, who were on the spot for the purpose of direct-
ing the levies against La Vendee, had negotiated with the local authorities,
and prevailed upon them to await the issue of events before they compro-
mised themselves any further. There, for the moment, the intention of
sending deputies to Bourges was relinquished, and a cautious reserve was
kept up.
At Bordeaux the insurrection was permanent and energetic. Treilhard
and Mathieu, the deputies, were closely watched from the moment of their
arrival, and it was at first proposed to seize them as hostages. There was
a reluctance, however, to proceed to this extremity, and they were sum-
moned to appear before the popular commission, where they experienced a
most unfavourable reception from the citizens, who considered them as
Maratist emissaries. They were questioned concerning the occurrences in
Paris, and, after hearing them, the commission declared that, according to
their own deposition, the Convention was not free on the 2d of June, neither
had it been so since that time ; that they were only the envoys of an assem-
bly without legal character ; and that consequently they must leave the de-
partment. They were accordingly conducted back to its boundary, and
immediately afterwards similar measures taken at Caen were repeated at Bor-
deaux. Stores of provisions and arms were formed ; the public funds were
diverted, and an advanced guard was pushed forward to Langon, till the
main body which was to start in a few days should be ready. Such were
the occurrences at the end of June and the commencement of July.
Mathieu and Trielhard, the deputies, meeting with less resistance, and
finding means to make themselves better understood in the departments of
the Dordogne, Vienne, and Lot-et-Garonne, succeeded, by their conciliatory
disposition, in soothing the public mind, in preventing hostile measures, and
in gaining time, to the advantage of the Convention. But, in the more ele-
vated departments, in the mountains of the Haute-Loire, on their baeks. in
the Herault and the Card, and all along the banks of the Rhone, the insur-
rection became general. The Card and the Herault marched off their bat-
talions and sent them to Pont-St. -Esprit, to secure the passes of the Rhone,
and to form a junction with the Marseillais who were to ascend that rivrr.
The Marseillais, in fact, refusing to obey the decrees of the Convention, main-
tained their tribunal, would not liberate the imprisoned patriots, and even
caused some of them to be executed. They formed an army of six thou-
sand men, which advanced from Aix upon Avignon, and which joined bv
the forces of Languedoc at Pont-St.-Esprit, was to raise the borders of the
Rhone, the Isere, and the Drome, in its march, and finally form a junction
with the Lyonese and with the mountaineers of the Ain and the Jura. At
Grenoble, the federalized administrations were struggling with Dubois-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 205
Crance, and even threatened to arrest him. Not yet daring to raiM troop*,
they had --cnt deputies to fraternise with Lyons. Dubois-Cranol, with the
disorganized army of the Alps, was in the heart of an all but revolted eitv,
which told him every day that the South could do without, the North, lie
had to retain Savoy, where the illusions excited by liberty and French domi-
nation were dispelled, where people were dissatisfied with the levies of men
and with the a&aignata, and where they had no notion of the so much boasted
revolution, so different from what it had first been conceived to be. On bis
Hank, Dubois-Crance had Switzerland, where the emigrants were (may, and
when- Berne was preparing to send a new garrison to Geneva; and in his
rear Lyons, which intercepted all correspondence with the committee of
public welfare.
Robert Lindet had arrived at Lyons, but before his face the federalist oath
had been taken : Unity, indivisibility, of the Republic ; hatred to
THE ANARCHISTS ; AND THE REPRESENTATION WHOLE AND ENTIRE. Instead
of sending the arrested patriots to Paris, the authorities had continued the
proceedings instituted against them. A new authority composed of deputies
of the communes and members of the constituted bodies had been formed,
with the title of Popular and republican commission of public welfare of
the Rhone anil Loire. This assembly had just decreed the organization of
a departmental force for the purpose of coalescing with their brethren of the
Jura, the Isere, the Bouches-du-Rhone, the Gironde, and the Calvados.
This force was already completely organized ; the levy of a subsidy had
moreover been decided upon ; and people were only waiting, as in all the
other departments, for the signal to put themselves in motion. In the Jura,
the two deputies, Bassal and Gamier of Troyes, had been sent to re-establish
obedience to the Convention. On the news that fifteen hundred troops of
the line had been collected at Dol, more than fourteen thousand mountaineers
had flown to arms, and were preparing to surround them.
If we consider the state of France early in July, 1793, we shall see that a
column, marching from Bretagne and Normandy, had advanced to Evreaux,
and was only a few leagues distant from Paris ; that another was approach-
ing from Bourdeaux, and was likely to carry along with it all the yet waver-
ing departments of the basin of the Loire ; that six thousand Marseillais,
posted at Avignon, waiting for the force of Languedoc at the Pont-St. -Esprit,
was about to form a junction at Lyons with all the confederates of Grenoble,
of the Ain, and of the Jura, with the intention of dashing on, through Bur-
gundy, to Paris. Meanwhile, until this general junction should be effected,
the federalists were taking all the money from the public coffers, intercepting
the provisions and ammunition sent to the armies, and throwing again into
circulation the assignats withdrawn by the sale of the national domains.* A
lemarkable circumstance, and one which furnishes a striking proof of the
spirit of the parties is, that the two factions preferred the self-same charges
against each other, and attributed to one another the self-same object. The
party of Paris and the Mountain alleged that the federalists designed to ruin
the republic by dividing it, and to arrange matters with the English for the
purpose of setting up a king, who was to be the Duke of Orleans, or Louis
XVII., or the Duke of York. On the other hand, the party of the depart*
mi'iiis and the federalists accused the Mountain of an intention to effect a
counter-revolution by means of anarchy, and asserted that Marat, Robespierre,
• Cambon's Report of the proceeding* of the committee of public welfare from the 10th of
April to the 10th of July.
S
206 HISTORY OF THE
and Danton, were sold either to England or to Orleans. Thus it was the
republic which both sides professed a solicitude to save, and the monarchy
with which they considered themselves to be waging deadly warfare. Such
is the deplorable and usual infatuation of parties !
But this was only one portion of the dangers which threatened our un-
happy country. The enemy within was to be feared, only because the
enemy without was more formidable than ever. While armies of French-
men were advancing from the provinces towards the centre, armies of
foreigners were again surrounding France, and threatening an almost inevit-
able invasion. Ever since the battle of Neerwinden and the defection of
Dumouriez, an alarming series of reverses had wrested from us our conquests
and our northern frontier. It will be recollected that Dampierre, appointed
commander-in-chief, had rallied the army under the walls of Bouehain, and
had there imparted to it some degree of unity and courage. Fortunately for
the revolution, the allies, adhering to the methodical plan laid down at the
opening of the campaign, would not push forward on any one point, and de-
termined not to penetrate into France, until the King of Prussia, after taking
Mayence, should be enabled to advance, on his part, into the heart of our
provinces. Had there been any genius or any union among the generals of
the coalition, the cause of the revolution would have been undone. After
Neerwinden and the defection of Dumouriez, they ought to have pushed ofl
and given no rest to that beaten, divided, and betrayed army. In this case, whe-
ther they made it prisoner or drove it back into the fortresses, our open
country would have been at the mercy of the victorious enemy. But the
allies held a congress at Antwerp to agree upon the ulterior operations of
the war. The Duke of York, the Prince of Coburg, the Prince of Orange,
and several generals, settled among them what course was to be pursued. It
was resolved to reduce Conde and Valenciennes, in order to put Austria in
possession of the new fortresses in the Netherlands, and to take Dunkirk, in
order to secure to England that so much-coveted port on the continent.
These points being arranged, the operations were resumed. The English
and Dutch had come into line. The Duke of York commanded twenty thou-
sand Austrians and Hanoverians; the Prince of Orange fifteen thousand
Dutch ; the Prince of Coburg forty-five thousand Austrians and ei<rlit thou-
sand Hessians. The Prince of Hohenlohe, with thirty thousand Austrians,
occupied Namur and Luxemburg, and connected the allied army in the
Netherlands with the Prussian army engaged in the siege of Mayence.
Thus the North was threatened by eighty or ninety thousand men.
The Allies had already formed the blockade of Conde, and the great am-
bition of the French government was to raise that blockade. Dampierre,
brave, but not having confidence in his soldiers, durst not attack those for-
midable masses. Urged, however, by the commissioners of the Convention!
he led back our army to the camp of Famars, close to Valenciennes, and on
the 1st of May attacked, in several columns, the Austrians, who were in-
trenched in the woods of Vicogne and St. Amant Military operations w
still timid. To form a mass, to attack the enemy's weak point, and to strike
him boldly, were tactics to which both parties were strangers. Dampierre
rushed, with intrepidity, but in small masses, upon an enemy who was him-
self divided, and whom it would have been easy to overwhelm on one point
Punished for his faults, he was repulsed, after an obstinate conflict. On the
9th of May, he renewed the attack ; he was less divided than the first time.
but the enemy, being forewarned, was less divided too; and while he was
making heroic efforts to carry a redoubt, on the taking of which the junction
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 207
of two of his columns depended, he was struck by a cannon-ball, and mor-
tally wounded. General Lamaiche, invested with the temporary command,
ordered a retreat, and led back the army to the camp of Famars. This camp,
situated beneath the walls of Valenciennes, and connected with that foi
prevented the laying siege to it. The Allies, therefore, determined upon an
attack on the 23d of May. They scattered their troops, according to their
usual practice, uselessly dispersed part of them over a multitude of points,
all which Austrian prudence was desirous of keeping, and did not attack the
camp with the whole force which they might have brought to bear. Checked
for a whole day by the artillery, the glory of the French army, it was not
till evening that they passed the Ronelle, which protected the front of the
camp. Lamarche retreated in the night in good order, and posted himself at
Caesar's Camp, which is connected with the fortress of Bouchain, as that of
Famars is with Valenciennes. Hither the enemy ought to have pursued and
to have dispersed us; but egotism and adherence to method fixed the Allies
around Valenciennes. Part of their army, formed into corps of observation,
placed itself between Valenciennes and Bouchain, and faced Caesar's Camp.
Another division undertook the siege of Valenciennes, and the remainder
continued the blockade of Conde, which ran short of provisions, and which
the enemy hoped to reduce in a few days. The regular siege of Valen-
ciennes was begun. One hundred and eighty pieces of cannon were coming
from Vienna, and one hundred from Holland; and ninety-three mortars were
already prepared. Thus, in June and July, Conde was starved, Valen-
ciennes set on fire, and our generals occupied Caesar's Camp with a beaten
and disorganized army. If Conde and Valenciennes were reduced, the worst
consequences might be apprehended.
The command of the army of the Moselle, after Beurnonville had been
appointed minister at war, was transferred to Ligneville. This army was
opposed to Prince Hohenlohe, and had nothing to fear from him, because,
occupying at the same time Namur, Luxemburg, and Treves, with thirty
thousand men at most, and having before him the fortress of Metz and
Thionville, he could not attempt anything dangerous. He had just been
weakened still more by detaching seven or eight thousand men from his corps
to join the Prussian army. It now became easier and more desirable than
ever to unite the active army of the Moselle with that of the Upper Rhine,
in order to attempt important operations.
On the Rhine, the preceding campaign had terminated at Mayence. Cus-
tine, after his ridiculous demonstration about Frankfort, had been forced to
fall back, and shut himself up in Mayence, where he had collected a consi-
derable artillery, brought from our fortresses, and especially from Strasburg.
There he formed a thousand schemes ; sometimes he resolved to take the
offensive, sometimes to keep Mayence, sometimes even to abandon that fort-
ress. At last he determined to retain it, and even contributed to persuade
the executive council to adopt this determination. The King of Prussia
then found himself obliged to lay sie^e to it, and it was the resistance that
he met with at this point which prevented the Allies from advancing in the
North.
The King of Prussia passed the Rhine at Bacharach, a little below
ence ; Wurmser, with fifteen thousand Austrians, and some thousands under
Conde, crossed it a little above : the Hessian corps of Schonfeld remained
on the right bank before the suburb of Cassel. The Proatian army was not
yet so strong as it ought to have been, according to the enirairements con-
tracted by Frederick-William. Having sent a considerable corps into Po-
208 HISTORY OF THE
land, he had but fifty thousand men left, including the different Hessian,
Saxon, and Bavarian contingents. Thus, including the seven or eight thou-
sand Austrians detached by Hohenlohe, the fifteen thousand Austrians under
Wurmser, the five or six thousand emigrants under Conde, and the fifty-five
thousand under the King of Prussia, the army which threatened the eastern
frontier might be computed at about eighty thousand fighting men. Our
fortresses on the Rhine contained about thirty-eight thousand men in garri-
son ; the active army amounted to forty or forty-five thousand men ; that of
the Moselle to thirty ; and if the two latter had been united under a single
commander, and with a point of support like that of Mayence, they might
have gone to seek the King of Prussia himself, and found employment for
him on the other side of the Rhine.
The two generals of the Moselle and the Rhine ought at least to have had
an understanding with one another, and they might have had it in their
power to dispute, nay, perhaps to prevent the passage of the river : but they
did nothing of the sort. In the course of the month of March, the King of
Prussia crossed the Rhine with impunity, and met with nothing in his
course but advanced guards, which he repulsed without difficulty. Custine
was meanwhile at Worms. He had been at no pains to defend either the
banks of the Rhine or the banks of the Vosges, which form the environs of
Mayence, and might have stopped the march of the Prussians. He has-
tened up, but, panic-struck at the repulses experienced by his advanced
guards, he fancied that he had to cope with one hundred and fifty thousand
men ; he imagined, above all, that Wurmser, who was to debouch by the l'a-
latinate, and above Mayence, was in his rear, and about to cut him off from
Alsace ; he applied for succour to Ligneville, who, trembling for himself,
durst not detach a regiment; he then betook himself to flight, never stop-
ping till he reached Landau, and then Weissenburg, and he even thought it
seeking protection under the cannon of Strasburg. This inconceivable re-
treat opened all the passes to the Prussians, who assembled before Mayence,
and invested it on both banks.
Twenty thousand men were shut up in that fortress, and if this was a
great number for the defence it was far too great for the state of the provi-
sions, which were not adequate to the supply of so large a garrison. The
uncertainty of our military plans had prevented any precautionary measures
for provisioning the place. Fortunately, it contained two representatives of
the people, Reubel, and the heroic Merlin of Thionville, the general Kleber*
* " Jean Baptiste Kleber, a French general, distinguished not less for his humanity and
integrity, than for his courage, activity and coolness, was one of the ablest soldiers whom
the Revolution produced. His father was a common labourer, and he himself was occupied
as an architect when the troubles in France broke out He was born at Strasburg in 1754,
and had received some military education in the academy of Munich. Having entered a
French volunteer corps as a grenadier in 1792, his talents soon procured him notice, and after
the capture of Mayence, he waj made general of brigade. Although he openly expressed
his horror of the atrocious policy of the revolutionary government, yet his services were too
valuable to be lost, and he distinguished himself as a general of division in 1795 and 1796.
In 1797, dissatisfied with the Directory, Kleber retired from the service, but Bonaparte pre-
vailed on him to join the expedition to Egypt, and left him the supreme command, when ho
himself returned to France. Though his position was a difficult one, yet he maintained it
successfully, and was making preparations for securing the possession of the country, when
he was assasinated by a Turkish fanatic in the year 1800." — Encyclopedia Amrricnna. E.
"Of all the generals I ever had under me, said Bonaparte, Desaix and Kleber possessed the
greatest talents ; but Kleber only loved glory inasmuch as it was the means of procuring
him riches and pleasures. He was an irreparable loss to France." — A Voice from St.
Helena. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 209
and Aubert-Duboyet, Meunier, the engineer, and lastly, a garrison possess-
ing all the military virtues, bravery, sobriety, persever ance. The I
merit commenced in April. General Kalkreuth formed the Beige with a
Prussian corps. The King of Prussia and Wurmscr were in observation
at the foot of the Vosges, and faced Custine. The garrison made frequent
■allies, and extended its defence to a great distance. The French govern-
ment, sensible of the blunder which it had committed by separating tbe two
armies of the Moselle and the Rhine, united them under Custine. That
Central) at the head of sixty or seventy thousand men, having the Prussians
and Austrians scattered before them, and beyopd them Mayence, defended
by twenty thousand Frenchmen, never conceived the idea of dashing upon
the corps of observation, dispersing it, and then joining the brave garrison
which was extending its hand to him. About the middle of May, aware
that he had committed an error in remaining inactive, he made an attempt,
ill combined, ill seconded, which degenerated into a complete rout. He
complained, as usual, of the subordinate officers, and was removed to the
army of the North to carry organization and courage to the troops intrenched
in Caesar's Camp. Thus the coalition which was besieging Valenciennes
and Mayence, would, after the reduction of those two fortresses, have no-
thing to hinder it from advancing upon our centre, and effecting an invasion.
From the Rhine to the Alp3 and the Pyrenees, a chain of insurrections
threatened the rear of our armies and interrupted their communications. The
Vosges, the Jura, Auvergne, La Lozere, formed between the Rhine and the
Pyrenees an almost continuous mass of mountains of different extent and
various elevations. Mountainous countries are peculiarly favourable for the
preservation of institutions, habits, and manners. In almost all those which
we have mentioned, the population retained a relic of attachment to the old
order of things, and, without being so fanatic as that of La Vendee, it was
nevertheless strongly disposed to insurrection. The Vosges, half German,
were excited by the nobles and by the priests, and as the army of the Rhine
betrayed indecision, the more threatening was the aspect it assumed. The
whole of the Jura had been roused to insurrection by the Gironde. If, in
its rebellion, it displayed more of the spirit of liberty, it was not the less
dangerous, for between fifteen and twenty thousand mountaineers were in
motion around Lons-le-Saulnier, and in communication with the revolt of the
Ain and the Rhone. We have already seen what was the state of Lyons.
The mountains of the Lozere, which separate the Upper Loire from the
Rhone, were full of insurgents of the same stamp as the Vendeans. They
had for their leader an ex-constituent, named Charrier ; they amounted
already to about thirty thousand men, and had it in their power to join La
Vendee by means of the Loire. Next came the federalist insurgents of the
South. Thus one vast revolt, differing in object and in principle, but equally
formidable, threatened the rear of the armies of the Rhine, the Alps, and
the Pyrenees.
Along the Alps, the Piedmontese were in arms, for the purpose of reco-
vering Savoy and the county of Nice. The snow prevented the commence-
ment of hostilities along the St. Bernard, and each kept his posts in the
three valleys of Sallenche, the Tarentaise, and the Maurienne. At the Ma-
ritime Alps, and with the army called the army of Italy, the case was differ-
ent. There hostilities had been resumed early, and the possession of the
very important post of Saorgio, on which depended the quiet occupation of
Nice, had begun to be disputed in the month of May. In fact the French,
could they but gain that post, would be masters of the Col de Tende, and
vol. ii — 27 s 2
210 HISTORY OF THE
have in their hands the key of the great chain. The Picdmontese had
therefore displayed great energy in defending, and the French in attacking
it. The Piedmontese had, both in Savoy and towards Nice, forty thousand
men, reinforced by eight thousand Austrians. Their troops, divided into
several corps of equal force from the Col dc Tende to the Great St. Bernard,
•iad followed, like all those of the allies, the system of cordons, and guarded
all the valleys. The French army of Italy was in the most deplorable state.
Consisting of fifteen thousand men at the utmost, destitute of everything,
badly officered, it was not possible to obtain great efforts from it.
Biron, who had been sent for a moment to command it, had reinforced it
with five thousand men, but had not been able to supply it with all that it
wanted. Had one of those grand ideas which would have ruined us in the
North have been conceived in the South, our ruin in that quarter also would
have been certain. The Piedmontese could, by favour of the fort, which
rendered inaction on the side towards the high Alps compulsory, have tr
ferred all their forces to the Southern Alps, and, debouching upon Nice with
a mass of thirty thousand men, have overwhelmed our army of Italy, driven
it back upon the insurgent departments, entirely dispersed it, promoted the
rising on both banks of the Rhone, advanced perhaps as far as Grenoble
and Lyons, taken our army penned in the valleys of Savoy in the rear, and
thus overrun a considerable portion of France. But there was no more an
Amadeus among them, than a Eugene among the Austrians, or a Marlborough
among the English. They confined themselves therefore to the defence of
Saorgio.
On our side, Brunet had succeeded Anselme, and had made the same
attempts upon the post of Saorgio as Dampierre had done about Conde.
After several fruitless and sanguinary engagements a last battle was fought
on the 12th of June, and terminated in a complete rout. Even then, if the
enemy had derived some boldness from success, he might have dispersed us,
and compelled us to evacuate Nice, and to recross the Var. Kellermann
had hastened from his head-quarters in the Alps, rallied the army at the
camp of Donjon, established defensive positions, and enjoined absolute inac-
tion until reinforcements should arrive. One circumstance rendered the
situation of this army still more dangerous, that was the appearance in the
Mediterranean of the English Admiral Hood,* who had come from Gibraltar
with thirty-seven sail, and of Admiral Langara, who had brought an almost
equal force from the ports of Spain. Troops might be landed, occupy the
line of the Var, and take the French in the rear. The presence of these
squadrons moreover prevented the arrival of supplies by sea, favoured the
revolt in the South, and encouraged Corsica to throw herself into the arm*
the English. Our fleet was repairing at Toulon the damage which it had
sustained in the unfortunate expedition against Sardinia, and durst scarcely
protect the coasters which brought corn from Italy. The Mediterranean was
no longer ours, and the tTade of the Levant passed from Marseilles to the
Greeks and the English. Thus the army of Italy had in front the Pied-
montese, victorious in several actions, and in its rear the revolt of the South
and two hostile squadrons.
At the Pyrenees, the war with Spain, declared on the 7th of March, in
• " Samuel, Lord Viscount Hood, in the year 1793, commanded against the French, in
the Mediterranean, when he signalized himself by the taking of Toulon, and afterwards
Corsica, in reward of which achievements he was made a viscount and governor of Green-
wich Hospital. He died at Bath in 1816, and was born in the year 1724." — Encyclopaedia
Americana.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 211
consequence of the death of Louis XVI., had scarcely begun. T!
rations had been long on both sides, because Spain, Blow, indolent, and
wretchedly administered, was incapable of promptitude, and b< mcr
had upon her hands other enemies who engaged all her attention. Servan,
who commanded at the Pyrenees, had spent several months in organizing
his army, and in accusing Pachewith as much acrimony as ever Dumourie-/
had dune. The aspect of things was not changed under Bquchotte, and,
when the campaign opened, the general was still complaining of the minister,
who, he said, left him in want of everything. The two countries communi-
cated with one another by two points, Perpignan and Bayonne. To push
an invading corps vigorously forward upon Bayonne and Bordeaux and thus
proceed to La Vendee was still too bold an attempt for those times ; besides,
our means of resistance were supposed to be greater in that quarter ; it would
have been necessary to cross the Landes, the Garonne, and the Dordogne,
and such difficulties would have been sufficient to cause this plan to be
relinquished, if it had ever been entertained. The Court of Madrid pre-
ferred an attack, by Perpignan, because it had in that quarter a more solid
base in fortresses, because it reckoned, according to the report of emigrants,
upon the royalists of the South, and lastly, because it had not forgotten its
ancient claims to Roussillon. Four or five thousand men were left to guard
Arragon ; fifteen or eighteen thousand half regular troops and half militia,
were to act under General Caro in the Western Pyrenees ; while General
Ricardos, with twenty-four thousand, was to make a serious attack on
Roussillon.
Two principal valleys, the Tech and the Tet, run off* from the chain of
the Pyrenees, and terminating towards Perpignan, form our first two de-
fensive lines. Perpignan is situated on the second, that of the Tet. Ricar-
dos, apprized of the feebleness of our means, conceived at his outset a bold
idea.* .Masking the forts of Bellegarde and Les Bains, he daringly advanced
with the intention of cutting off all our detachments scattered in the valleys,
by turning them. This attempt proved successful. He debouched on the
15th of April, beat the detachments sent under General Willot to stop him,
and struck a panic terror into the whole of the frontier. Had he pushed on
with ten thousand men, he might have been master of Perpignan, but he
was not daring enough : besides, all his preparations were not made, and he
let the French have time to recover themselves.
The command, which appeared to be too extensive, was divided. Servan
had the Western Pyrenees, and General de Flers, who had been employed
in the expedition against Holland, was appointed to command in the Eastern
Pyrenees. He rallied the army in advance of Perpignan in a position
called the Mas (VEu. On the 19th of May, Ricardos, having collected
eighteen thousand men, attacked the French camp. The action was bloody.
The brave General Dagobert, retaining in advanced age all the fire of youth,
and combining great intelligence with intrepidity, maintained his position
on the field of batUe. De Flers arrived with a reserve-of eighteen hundred
men, and the ground was preserved. The day declined, and a favourable
termination of the combat was anticipated ; but about nightfall our soldiers,
exhausted by long resistance, suddenly gave up the ground and fled in confu-
sion beneath the walls of Perpignan. The affrighted garrison closed the
gates, and fired upon our troops, mistaking them for Spaniards. Here was
another opportunity lor making a bold dash upon Perpignan and gaining
possession of that place, which would not have resisted ; but Ricardos, who
had merely masked Bellegarde and Les Bains, did not deem it prudent to
212 HISTORY OF THE
venture farther, and returned to besiege those two little fortresses. He
reduced them towards the end of June, and again came in presence of our
troops, which had rallied nearly in the same positions as before. Thus in
July the loss of a battle might have entailed the loss of Roussillon.
Calamities thicken as we approach another theatre of war, more sangui-
nary, and more terrible than any that we have yet visited. La Vendee, all
fire and blood, was about to vomit forth a formidable column to the other
side of the Loire. We left the Vendeans inflamed by unhoped-for successes,
masters of the town of Thouars, which they had taken from Quetinault, and
beginning to meditate more important enterprises. Instead of marching
upon Doue and Saumur, they had turned off to the south of the theatre of
war, and endeavoured to clear the country towards Fontenai, and Niort.
Messrs. de Lescure and de La Roche Jacquelein, who were appointed to
thi3 expedition, had made an attack upon Fontenai, on the 16th of May.
Repulsed at first by General Sandos, they fell back to some distance ; but
presently, profiting by the blind confidence derived by the republican gene-
ral from a first success, they again made their appearance, t° die number of
fifteen or twenty thousand, took Fontenai, in spite of the extraordinary
efforts made on that day by young Marceau, and forced Chalbos and Sandos
to retreat to Niort in the greatest disorder. There they found arms and
ammunition in great quantity, and enriched themselves with new resources,
which, added to those that had fallen into their hands at Thouars, enabled
them to prosecute the war with still greater success. Lescure addressed a
proclamation to the inhabitants, and threatened them with the severest pu-
nishments if they furnished assistance to the republicans. After this, the
Vendeans separated, according to their custom, in order to return home to
the labours of the harvest, and a rendezvous was fixed for the 1st of June
in the environs of Doue.
In the Lower Vendee, where Charette commanded alone, without a,s yet
combining his operations with those of the other chiefs, the success had been
balanced. Canclaux, commanding at Nantes, had maintained his ground at
Machecoul, though with difficulty ; General Boulard, who commanded at
Sables, had been enabled, by the excellent dispositions and the discipline of
his troops, to occupy Lower Vendee for two months, and he had even kept
up very advanced posts as far as the environs of Palluau. On the 17th of
May, however, he was obliged to retreat to La Motte-Achart, very near
Sables, and he found nimself in the greatest embarrassment, because his
two best battalions, all composed of citizens of Bordeaux, wanted to return
home, either to attend to their own affairs, or from discontent with the 31st
of May.
The labours of agriculture had occasioned a degree of quiet in Lower as
in Upper Vendee, and, for a few days, the war was somewhat less active,
its operations being deferred till the commencement of June.
General Berruyer, whose orders extended originally over the whole theatre
of tho war, had been superseded, and his command divided among several
generals. Saumur, *Niort, the Sables, composed what was called the army
of the coast of La Rochelle, which was intrusted to Biron ; Angers, Nantes,
and the Loire-Infcrieure, composed that called the army of the coast of B:
to which Canelaux. commandant of Nantes, was appointed; lastly, the coast
of Cherbourg had been given to Wimpfen, who, as we have seen, had become
general of the insurgents of the Calvados.
Biron, removed from the frontier of the Rhine to that of Italy, and from
the latter to La Vendee, proceeded with great repugnance to that theatre of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 213
devastation. His dislike to participate in the horrors of civil war was des-
tined to prove his ruin. He arrived", on the 27th of May, at Niort, and
found the army in the utmost disorder. It was composed of levies en manse,
raised by force or by persuasion in the neighbouring provinces, and con-
fusedly thrown into La Vendee, without training, without discipline, without
supplies. These levies, consisting of peasants and industrious tradesmen
of the towns, who had quitted their occupations with regret, were ready to
disperse on the first accident. It would have been much better to have sent
most of them away ; for they committed blunders both in the country and in
the towns, encumbered the insurgent districts to no purpose, famished them
by their number, spread disorder and panic-terrors among them, and frequent-
ly hurried along in their flight organized battalions, which would have made
a much more effective resistance if they had been left to themselves. All
these bands arrived with their leader, appointed in the place to which they
belonged, who called himself general, talked of his army, refused to obey,
and thwarted all the dispositions of the superior officers. Towards Orleans
battalions were formed known in this war by the name of battalions of Or-
leans. They were composed of clerks, shopmen, and footmen, in short, of
all the young men collected in the sections of Paris, and sent off in the train
of Santerre. They were blended with the troops which had been taken from
the army of the North, by drafting fifty men from each battalion. But it was
necessary to associate these heterogeneous elements, and to find arms and
clothing. They were destitute of everything ; the very pay could not be
furnished, and, as it was unequal between the troops of the line and the
volunteers, it occasioned frequent mutinies.
The Convention had despatched commissioners after commissioners for
the purpose of organizing this multitude. Some had been sent to Tours,
others to Saumur, Niort, La Rochelle, and Nantes. They thwarted one
another, and they thwarted the generals. The executive counsel had also
its agents, and Bouchotte, the minister, had inundated the country w ith his
creatures, all selected from among the Jacobins and the Cordeliers. These
crossed the representatives, conceived that they proved their zeal by loading
the country with requisitions, and accused the generals who would have
checked the insubordination of the troops, or prevented useless oppressions,
of despotism and treason. From this conflict of authorities' a crude mass of
accusations, and a confusion of command resulted, that were truly frightful.
Biron could not enforce obedience, and he durst not make his army march,
for fear that it should disband itself on the first movement, or plunder all
before it. Such is a correct picture of the forces which the republic had at
this period in La Vendee.
Biron repaired to Tours, and arranged an eventual plan with the represen-
tatives, which consisted, as soon as this confused multitude could be some-
what organized, in directing four columns, of ten thousand men each, from
the circumference to the centre. The four starting points were the bridges
of Ce, Saumur, Chinon, and Niort. Meanwhile, he went to inspect Lower
Vendee, where he supposed the danger to be greater than in any other quar-
ter. Biron justly feared that communications might be established between
the Vcndeans and the English. Arms and troops landed in the Mantis might
aggravate the evil, and render the war interminable. A squadron of ten sail
had been perceived, and it was known that the Breton emigrant! had been
ordered to repair to the islands of Jersey and Guernsey. Thus everything
justified the apprehensions of Biron and his visit to Lower Vendee.
Meanwhile, the Vendeans had re-assembled on the 1st of June. They
214 HISTORY OF THE
had introduced some regularity among themselves : a council had been
appointed to govern the country occupied by their armies. An adventurer,
who gave himself out to be bishop of Agra* and envoy from the Pope, wta
president of this council, and, by blessing the colours and performing solemn
masses, excited the enthusiasm of the Vendeans, and thus rendering his im-
posture very serviceable to them. They had not yet chosen a generalissimo;
but each chief commanded the peasants of his district, and it was agreed that
they should act in concert in all their operations. They had issued a pro-
clamation in the name of Louis XVII., and of the Count de Provence, regent
of the kingdom during the minority of the young prince, and called thorn-
selves commanders of the royal and catholic armies. Their intention was to
occupy the line of the Loire, and to advance upon Doue and Saumur. The en-
terprise, though bold, was easy in the existing state of things. They entered
Doue on the 7th, and arrived on the 9th before Saumur. As soon as their
march was known, General Salomon, who was at Thouars with three
thousand men, was ordered to march upon their rear. Salomon obeyed, but
found them in too great force. He could not attack them without certain
destruction to himself; he therefore returned to Thouars, and thence toNiort.
The troops of Saumur had taken a position in the environs of the town, on
the road to Fontevrault, in the intrenchments of Nantilly and on the heights
of Uournan. The Vendeans approached, attacked Berthier's column, w
repulsed by a well directed artillery, but returned in force, and obliged BeT-
thier,t who was wounded, to fall back. The foot gendarmes, two battalions
* " While the army was at Thouars, the soldiers found in a house a man in the uniform
of a volunteer. He told them he was a priest, who had been forced to enrol in a republican
battalion at Poitiers, and requested to speak to M. de Villeneuve du Cazeau, who had been
his college companion. That person recognised him as the Abbe Guyot de Folleville. Soon
after he said that he was bishop of Agra, and that the nonjuring bishops had consecrated him in
secret at St. Germain. M. de Villeneuve communicated all this to the Benedictine, M. Pierre
Jagault, whose knowledge and judgment were much esteemed. Both proposed to the Bishop
of Agra that he should join the army; but he hesitated much, alleging his bad health. At
last they prevailed, and then introduced him to the general officers. No one conceived a
doubt of what he told. He said that the Pope had appointed four apostolic vicars for France ;
and that the diocese of the West hail been committed to his charge. He had a tine figure.
with an air of gentleness and humility, and good manners. The generals saw with great
pleasure an ecclesiastic of such high rank and appearance supporting their cause, and an in-
fluence likely to prove very powerful. It was agreed that he should go to Chatillon, and be
received there as bishop. Thus first appeared in La Vendee the Bishop of Agra, who played
so important a part, and became so celebrated in the history of the war. It appeared in the
sequel that all this singular personage had said of himself was false ! He deceive! the whole
army and country without any apparent motive. An absurd vanity seems to have been the
only one. The bishop arrived as such among us the very day of the overthrow of (Jhiitillon.
On his arrival the bells were rung ; crowds followed him, on whom he bestowed benedictions ;
he officiated pontifically, and the peasants were intoxicated with joy. The happiness <>f having
a bishop among them made them forget their reverses, and restored all their ardour." — Mr-
mo.'rs of the Marehionttt d? Luntchejaifutlein. E.
-j- "Alexander Berthier, Prince of Neufchatel and WagTam, marshal, vice-constable of
France, was born in Paris in 1753. He was the son of a distinguished officer, :niJ was.
while yet young, employed in the general stair, and fought with Lafayette for the lilwrty of
the United Slates. In 1791 he was appointed chief of the general staff in Luckner's army,
marched agaioat La Vendee in 1793, and joined the army of Italy in 1790. In the year
1798 li>- received the chief command of the army of Italy, and afterwards, being much
attached to Bonaparte, followed him to Egypt, who, on his return to Paris, appointed h;m
minister of war. Having, in 1*06, accompanied the Emperor in his campaign against
Prussia, he signet] the armistice of Tilsit in 1807. Being appointed vice-constable of Fi i
he married in 1808, the daughter of Duke William of Bavaria-Birkenfeld ; and, havina
distinguished himself at Wagram, in 1809, he received the title of Prince of Wagram. In
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 215
of Orleans, and the cuirassiers, still resisted, but the latter lost their c<>
The defeat then began, and all were taken back to the town, which thi
deans entered at their heels. General Coustard, who commanded the bat-
talions posted on the heights of Bouman, still remained outside. Finding
himself separated from the republican troops, which had been drawn
Lumur, lie formed the bold resolution of returning thither, ami taking
the Vendeans in the rear. He had to pass a bridge where the victorious
Vemleans had just placed a battery. The brave Coustard ordered a corps
of cuirassiers under his command to charge the battery. " Whither are you
sending us V asked they. " To death !" replied Coustard; "the welfare Of
the republic requires it." The cuirassiers dashed away, but the Orleans
battalions dispersed, and deserted the general and the cuirassiers, who charged
the battery. The cowardice of the one frustrated the heroism of the others ;
and General Coustard, unable to get back into Saumur, retired to Angers.
Saumur was taken on the 9th of June, and the next day the citadel sur-
rendered.* The Vendeans, being masters of the course of the Loire, had it
the following year, as proxy for Napoleon, he received the hand of Maria Louisa, daughter
of the Emperor of Austria, and accompanied her to France. In 1812 he accompanied the
French army to Russia. After Bonaparte's abdication he obtained the confidence of Louis
XVIII., whom, on the Emperor's return, he accompanied to the Netherlands, whence he
repaired to his family at Bamberg. On his arrival at this place he was observed to be sunk
in profound melancholy, and when the music of the Russian troops, on their march to the
French borders, was heard at the gates of the city, he put an end to his life by throwing
himself from a window of the third story of his palace." — Encyclopaedia Americana.
"Berthicr was small and ill-shaped, without being actually deformed; his head was too
large for his body ; his hair, neither light nor dark, was rather frizzed than curled ; his fore-
head, eyes, nose, and chin, each in the proper place, were, however, by no means handsome
in the aggregate. His hands, naturally ugly, became frightful by a habit of biting his nails : add
to this, that he stammered much in speaking; and that if he did not make grimaces, the agi-
tation of his features was so rapid as to occasion some amusement to those who did not take
a direct interest in his dignity. I must add, that he was an excellent man, with a thousand
good qualities, neutralized by weakness. Berthier was good in every acceptation of the
word." — Duchess a" Abrantes. E.
"Berthier was a man full of honour, courage, and probity, and exceedingly regular in the
performance of his duties. Napoleon's attachment to him arose more from habit than liking.
Berthier did not concede with affability, and refused with harshness. His manner was abrupt,
egotistic, and un pleasing. He was an excellent head of the staff of an army, but that is all
the praise that can be given him, and indeed he wished for no greater. He had such entire
confidence in the Emperor, and looked up to him with so much admiration, that he never
could have presumed to oppose his plans or offer him any advice. Berthier's talent was
limited and of a peculiar nature. His character was one of extreme weakness." — Bour-
rienne. E.
* " Three assaults on Saumur by the Vendeans began nearly at the game time on the
morning of the 9lh of June. The redoubts were turned, and the bridge passed, when sud-
denly a ball having wounded M. de Lescure in the arm, the peasants who saw him covered
with blood, began to slacken their pace. Lescure binding up the wound with a handkerchief,
endeavoured to lead on his men again ; but a charge of republican cuirassiers frightened
them. M. de Domrnaigno endeavoured to make a stand at the head of the Vendean cavalry,
but he was struck down by a discharge of casesbot, and his troop overthrown. The rout
became general ; but a singular chance redeemed the fortune of the day. Two wagons over-
turned on the bridge Fouchard, Btop|>ed the cuirassiers, and enabled Lescure to rally the
soldi, rs. The brave Loizeau placing himself at the head of some foot-soldiers, fired through
the wheels of the wagons at the faces of the cuirassiers and their horse*; whi
Mari^'iiy directed some living artillery upon them, which turned the scale in favour of the
Vendeans. M. de Larochejaquelein attacked the republican camp and turned it ; the ditrh
was crossed, a wall beyond it thrown down, and the post carried. Lnrochejaquelein throw-
ing his hat into the intrenchment, called out ' Who will go and fetch it ?' mid darting forward
him.-elf, was followed by a great number of peasants. Soon afterwards the Vendeans entered
i he whole army of the Blues flying in disorder across tho great bridge of
216 HISTORY OF THE
now in their power to march either upon Nantes or upon La Fleche, Le
Mans, and Paris. Terror preceded, and everything must have given way
before them. Biron was, meanwhile, in Lower Vendee, where, by directing
his attention to the coasts, he conceived that he was warding off more real
and more serious dangers.
Perils of every kind threatened us at once. The allies, besieging Valen-
ciennes, Conde, and Mayenee, were on the point of taking those fortresses,
the bulwarks of our frontiers. The Vosges in commotion, the Jura in revolt,
the easiest access to invasion was opened on the side next to the Rhine.
The army of Italy, repulsed by the Piedmontese, had in its rear the rebellion
of the South and the English fleet. The Spaniards, in presence of the
French camp under Perpignan, threatened to carry it by an attack, and to
make themselves masters of Roussillon. The insurgents of La Lozere were
ready to unite with the Vendeans along the Loire, and this was the design
of the leader who had excited that revolt. The Vendeans, masters of Samur
and of course of the Loire, had only to act, for they possessed all the means
of executing the boldest attempts upon the interior. Lastly, the federalists,
marching from Caen, Bordeaux, and Marseilles, were preparing to excite
France to insurrection in their progress.
Our situation in the month of July, 1793, was the more desperate, inas-
much as a mortal blow might have been struck at France on every point. In
the North, the allies had but to neglect the fortresses and to march upon
Paris, and they would have driven the Convention upon the Loire, where
it would have been received by the Vendeans. The Austrians and the
Piedmontese could have executed an invasion by the maritime Alps, annihi-
lated our army, and overrun the whole of the South as conquerors. The
Spaniards were in a position to advance by Bayonne and to join La Vendee,
or if they preferred Roussillon, to march boldly towards La Lozere, not far
distant from the frontiers, and to set the South in flames. Lastly, the Eng-
lish, instead of cruising in the Mediterranean, possessed the means of land-
ing troops in La Vendee, and conducting them from Saumur to Paris.
But the external and internal enemies of the Convention had not that which
insures victory in a war of revolution. The allies acted without union, and,
under the disguise of a holy war, concealed the most selfish views. The Aus-
trians wanted Valenciennes ; the King of Prussia, Mayenee ; the English,
Dunkirk;* the Piedmontese aspired to recover Chambery and Nice; the Spa-
the Loire. Night coming on, the republicans evacuated the place. The capture of Saumur
gave to the Vendeans an important post, the passage of the Loire, eighty pieces of cannon,
muskets innumerable, and a great quantity of powder and saltpetre. In the course of five
days they had taken eleven thousand prisoners; these they shaved, and then sent mo
them away. Our loss in this last affair was sixty men killed, and four hundred wounded."
— Memoirs of the Marchioness rfe Lnrochrjaquelein. E.
* " If the conduct of the allies had been purposely intended to develop the formidable mili-
tary strength which had grown upon the French republic, they could not have adopted mea-
sures better calculated to effect their object than were actually pursued. Four months of
success, which might have been rendered decisive, had been wasted in blameable inactivity.
After having broken the frontier line of French fortresses, the allies thought fit to separate
their forces, and, instead of pushing on to the centre of the republican power, to pursue inde-
pendent plans of aggrandizement. The English, with their allies, moved towards Dunkirk,
so long the object of their maritime jealousy, while the remainder of the army of the Imperi-
alists was broken up into detachments to preserve the communications. From this ruinous
division may be dated all the subsequent disasters of the campaign. Had ihey held together,
and pushed on vigorously against the masses of the enemy's forces, there cannot be a doubt
that the object of the war would have l>cen gained. It was a resolution of the English cabinet
which occasioned this fatal division. The impartial historian must confess with a sigh that
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 217
niards, the least interested of all, had nevertheless some thoughts of Rous
sillon ; lastly, the English were more solicitous to cover the Mediterranean
with their fleets and to gain some port there, than to afford useful succour to
La Vendee. Besides this universal selfishness, which prevented the allies
from extending their views beyond their immediate profit, they were all
methodical ami timid in war, and defended with the old military routine the
old political routine for which they had armed themselves.
As for the Vendeans, rising untrained against the genius of the Revolution,
they fought like brave but ignorant marksmen. The federalists, spread over
the whole surface of France, having to communicate from great "distances
for the purpose of concerting operations, rising but timidly against the central
authority, and being animated only by moderate passions, could not act with-
out tardiness and uncertainty. They moreover secretly reproached them-
selves with compromising their country by a culpable diversion. They
began to feel that it was criminal to discuss whether they ought to be revo-
lutionists such as Petion and Vergniaud, or such as Danton and Robespierre,
at a moment when all Europe was in arms against France; and they per-
ceived that under such circumstances there was but one course to pursue, and
that was the most energetic. Indeed all the factions, already rearing their
heads around them, apprized them of their fault. It was not only the con-
stituents, it was the agents of the old court, the retainers of the old clergy —
in short, all the partisans of absolute power, who were rising at once ; and it
became evident to them that all opposition to the Revolution would turn to
the advantage of the enemies to all liberty and to all nationality.
Such were the causes which rendered the allies so awkward and so timid,
the Vendeans so shallow, the federalists so wavering, and which were de-
stined to insure the triumph of the convention over internal revolt and over
Europe. The Mountaineers, animated alone by a strong passion, by a single
idea, the welfare of the Revolution, under the influence of that exaltation of
mind in which men discover the newest and the boldest means, in which
they never think them either too hazardous or too cosfly, if they are but sa-
lutary, could not fail to disconcert, by an unexpected and sublime defence,*
slow-motioned enemies, wedded to the old routine, and held together by no
general bond of union, and to stifle factions which wanted the ancient sys-
tem of all degrees, the revolution of all degrees, and which had neither con-
cord nor determinate object.
it was British interests which here interfered with the great objects of the war; and that, by
compelling the English contingent to separate for the siege of Dunkirk, England contributed
to postpone for twenty years its glorious termination." — Alison. E.
• " For all the advantages they gained, the Convention were indebted to the energy of
their measures, the ability of their councils, and the enthusiasm of their subjects. If history
has nothing to show comparable to the crimes which they committed, it has few similar in-
stances of undaunted resolution to commemorate. Impartial justice requires that this praise
should be bestowed on the committee of public safety ; if the cruelty of their internal admi-
nistration exceeded the worst despotism of the emperors, the dignity of their external conduct
rivalled the noblest instances of Roman heroism." — Alison. E.
vol. II. — 28
218 HISTORY OF THE
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
MEANS EMPLOYED BY THE CONVENTION AGAINST THE FEDERAL-
ISTS—CONSTITUTION OF THE YEAR III.— CHECK OF VERNON— DE-
LIVERANCE OF NANTES— SUBMISSION OF THE DEPARTM1.
DEATH OF MARAT.
The Convention, amidst the extraordinary circumstances in which it found
itself placed, was not for an instant shaken. While fortresses or intrenched
camps detained the enemy for the moment on the different frontiers, the
committee of public welfare laboured night and day to reorganize the armies,
to complete them by means of the levy of three hundred thousand nun de-
creed in March, to transmit instructions to the generals, and to despatch
money and stores. It remonstrated with all the local administrations which
purposed to withhold, for the benefit of the federalist cause, the supplies
destined for the armies, and prevailed upon them to desist out of considera-
tion for the public welfare.
While these means were employed in regard to the external enemy, the
Convention resorted to others not less efficacious in regard to the enemy at
home. The best resource against an adversary who doubts his rights and
his strength, is not to doubt yours. Such was the course pursued by the
Convention. We have already seen the energetic decrees which it paa
on the first movement of revolt. Though many .towns would not yield, yet
it never had for a moment the idea of treating with those which assumed the
decided character of rebellion. The Lyonnese having refused to obey and
to send the imprisoned patriots to Paris, it ordered its commissioners with
the army of the Alps to employ force, unconcerned about either the difficulties
or the dangers incurred by those commissioners at Grenoble, where they had
the Piedmontese in front and all the insurgents of the Isere and the Rhone
in their rear. It enjoined them to compel Marseilles to return to its duty. It
allowed all the local authorities only three days to retract their equivocal re-
solutions (urrHv.s) ; and lastly, it sent to Vernon some gendarmes and several
thousand citizens of Paris, in order to quell forthwith the insurgents of the
Calvados, the nearest to the capital.
The must important affair of all, the framing of a constitution, had not been
neglected, and a week had been sufficient for the completion of that work,
which was rather a rallying point than a real plan of legislation. It was the
composition of Ilerault de Sechelles.* Every Frenchman, having attained
* " Herault de Sechelles was the legislator of the Mountain, as Contlorcet had been of the
Gironde. With the ide.-is which prevailed at this period, the nature of the new constitution
may be easily conceived. It established the pure government of the multitude; not only
were the people acknowledged to Imj the source of all power, but the exercise of that power
was delegated to them. As the constitution thus made over the government to the multitude,
as it placed the power in a disorganized body, it would have been at ol! times impracticable ;
but, at a period of general warfare, it was peculiarly so. Accordingly, it was no sooner n
than suspended." — Mignet. K.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 219
the age of twenty-one, was to be a citizen and to exercise his political rights
without any condition as to fortune or property. The assembled citizens
won' to elect one deputy for every fifty thousand souls. The deputies, com-
posing a single assembly, were to sit for only one year. They were to issue
decrees for everything concerning the urgent wants of the state, and these
decrees were to be carried into immediate execution. They were to make
laws for everything that concerned matters of a general and less urgent in-
terest, and these laws were not to be sanctioned unless, after allowing a
certain delay, the primary assemblies had not remonstrated against them.
( >n the 1st of May the primary assemblies were to meet as a matter of right,
and without convocation, to elect new deputies. The primary assemblies
were to have the right to demand conventions for modifying the constitutional
act. The executive power was to be vested in twenty-four members ap-
pointed by the electors, and this was to be the only mediate election. The
primary assemblies were to nominate the electors, these electors were to no-
minate the candidates, and the legislative body was to reduce the candidates
to twenty-four, by striking out the others. These twenty-four members of
the council were to appoint the generals, the ministers, the agents of all sorts,
but were not to take them from among their own body. They were to
direct, to keep a watchful eye over them, and they were to be continually
responsible. One-half of the executive council was to be renewed every
year. Lastly, this constitution, so short, so democratic, which reduced the
government to a mere temporary commission, spared nevertheless the only
relic of the ancient system, the communes, and made no change either in
their circumscription or their powers. The resolution of which they had
given proofs, procured them the distinction of being retained on this tabula
rasa upon which was left no other trace of the past. In a week, and almost
without discussion, this constitution was adopted, and, at the moment when
it was voted in its entire form, the guns proclaimed its adoption in Paris,
and shouts of joy arose on all sides. Thousands of copies of it were printed
for the purpose of being circulated throughout France. It met with only a
single contradiction, and that was from the agitators who had prepared the
31st of May.
The reader will recollect young Varlet haranguing in the public places ;
young Leclerc, of Lyons, so violent in his speeches at the Jacobins, and
suspected even by Marat on account of his vehemence ; and Jacques Roux,*
so brutal towards the unfortunate Louis XVI., who begged him to take
charge of his will — all these had made themselves conspicuous in the late
insurrection, and possessed considerable influence on the committee of the
Eveche and at the Cordeliers. They found fault with the constitution, be-
cause it contained no provision against forestalled ; they drew up a petition
which they hawked about the streets for signatures, and went to rouse the
Cordeliers, saying that the constitution was incomplete, since it contained
no clause against the greatest enemies of the people. Legendre, who was
present, strove in vain to oppose this movement. He was called a moderate,
and the petition adopted by the society, was presented by it to the Conven-
* "Jacques Roux was a priest, a municipal officer at Paris, and a furious revolutionist.
He called himself the preacher of the suns-culottes, and, being intrusted with the care of the
Temple while the Kinc; and his family were confined there, treated them with the greatest
brutality. He boasted of being the Marat of the municipality, and even preached up theft
and libertinism. In 1794 he was brought !*>fore the revolutionary tribunal; and, at the mo-
ment when he heard his sentence prono ive himself five wounds with a knife, and
died in prison." — IS.'o^roji/tie Modcr/ic. E.
220 HISTORY OF THE
tion. The whole Mountain was indignant at this proceeding. Robespierre
and Collot-d'Herbois spoke warmly, caused the petition to be rejected, and
went to the Jacobins, to expose the danger of these perfidious exaggerations,
which merely tended, they said, to mislead the people, and could only be
the work of men paid by the enemies of the republic. " The most popular
constitution that ever was," said Robespierre, " has just emanated from an
assembly, formerly counter-revolutionary but now purged from the men who
obstructed its progress, and impeded its operations. This Assembly, now
pure has produced the most perfect, the most popular work that was ever
given to men ; and an individual, covered with the garb of patriotism, who
boasts that he loves the people more than we do, stirs up the citizens of all
classes and pretends to prove that a constitution which ought to rally all
France, is not adapted to them ! Beware of such manoeuvres ! Beware of
ci-devant priests leagued with the Austrians ! Beware of the new mask
under which the aristocrats are disguising themselves ! I discover a new
crime in preparation, and which may not be long before it breaks forth : but
let us unveil it, let us crush the enemies of the people under whatever form
they may present themselves." Collot-d'Herbois spoke as warmly as Robes-
pierre. He declared that the enemies of the republic wished to have a pre-
text for saying to the departments, You see, Paris approves the language
of Jacques Roux!
The two speakers were greeted with unanimous acclamations. The
Jacobins, who piqued themselves upon combining policy with revolutionary
passion, prudence with energy, sent a deputation to the Cordeliers. Collot-
d'Herbois was its spokesman. He was received at the Cordeliers with all
the consideration due to one of the most distinguished members of the Jaco-
bins and of the Mountain. Profound respect was professed for the society
which sent him. The petition was withdrawn ; Jacques Roux and Leclerc
were expelled, Varlet was pardoned only on account of his youth, and an
apology was made to Legendre for the unwarranted expressions applied to
him in the preceding sitting. The constitution thus avenged, was sent
forth to France for the purpose of being sanctioned by all the primary as-
semblies.
Thus the convention held out to the departments with one hand the con-
stitution, with the other the decree which allowed them only three days for
their decision. The constitution cleared the Mountain from any plan of
usurpation, and furnished a pretext for rallying round a justified authority;
and the decree of the three days gave no time for hesitation, and enforced
the choice of obedience in preference to any other course.
Many of the departments in fact yielded, while others persisted in their
former measures. But these latter, exchanging addresses, sending deputa-
tions to one another, seemed to be waiting for each other to act. The dis-
tances did not permit them to correspond rapid!) or to form one whole.
The lack of revolutionary spirit, moreover, prevented them from finding the
resources necessary for success. How well disposed soever masses may
be, they are never ready to make all sacrifices, unless men of impassioned
minds oblige them to do so. It would have required violent means to |
the moderate inhabitants of the towns, to oblige them to march, and to con-
tribute. But the Girondins condemned all those means in the Mountaineers,
and could not themselves have recourse to them. The traders of Bordi
conceived that they had done | great deal when they had expressed them-
selves somewhat warmly in the sections: but they had not gone beyond
their own walls. The Marseillais, rather more prompt, had sent six thou-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 221
sand men to Avignon, but they had not themselves composed this little army,
but hired soldiers ;is their substitutes. The Lyonnese wen: waiting for the
junction of the men of Provence and Languedoc ; the Normans had cooled
a lit tit? ; the Bretons alone had remained stanch, and tilled up their battalions
out of their own number.
Considerable agitation had prevailed at Caen, the principal centre of the
insurrection. It was the columns that had set out from this point which
would fall in with the first troops of the Convention, and this first engage-
ment would of course be of great importance. The proscribed deputies who
were collected about Wimpfen complained of his slowness, and conceived
that they could discover in him the disguised royalist. Urged on all sides,
Wimpfen at length ordered Puisaye to push on his advanced guard to Ver-
non on the 13th of July, and apprized him that he was himself about to
march with all his force. Accordingly, on the 13th, Puisaye advanced
toward Paey, and fell in with the Paris levies, accompanied by a few hun-
dred gendarmes. A few musket-shots were fired on both sides in the woods.
Next day, the 14th, the federalists occupied Pacy, and seemed to have a
slight advantage. But, on the following day, the troops of the Convention
appeared with cannon. At the first discharge terror seized the ranks of the
federalists. They dispersed, and fled in confusion to Evreux. The Bre-
tons, possessing more firmness, retired in less disorder, but were hurried
along in the retrograde movement of the others. At this intelligence con-
sternation pervaded the Calvados, and all the authorities began to repent of
their imprudent proceedings. As soon as this rout was known at Caen,
Wimpfen assembled the deputies, and proposed that they should intrench
themselves in that city, and make an obstinate resistance. Entering further
into the exposition of his sentiments, he told them that he saw but one way
of maintaining this conflict, which was to obtain a powerful ally, and that, if
they wished it, he would procure them one ; he even threw out hints that
this was the English cabinet. He added, that he considered the republic
impossible, and that in his opinion the restoration of the monarchy would
not be a calamity.
The Girondins peremptorily rejected every offer of this kind, and ex-
pressed the sincerest indignation. Some of them then began to be sensible
of the imprudence of their attempt, and of the danger of raising any standard
whatever, since all the factions would rally round it for the purpose of over-
throwing the republic. They did not, however, relinquish all hope, and
thought of retiring to Bordeaux, where some of them conceived it possible
to excite a movement sincerely republican in spirit, and which might be
more successful than that of. the Calvados and Bretagne. They set out
therefore with the Breton battalions which were returning home, intending
to embark at Brest. They assumed the dress of common soldiers, and were
intermingled in the ranks of the battalion of Finistere. After the check at
Vernon, it was necessary for them to conceal themselves, because all the
local authorities, eager to submit and to give proofs of zeal to the Convention,
would have had it in their power to cause them to be arrested. In this
manner they traversed part of Normandy and Bretagne, amidst continual
dangers and extreme hardships, and at length concealed themselves in the
environs of Brest, whence they designed to proceed to Bordeaux. Barba-
roux, Petion, Salles, Louvet, Meilhan, Guadet, Kervelegan, Gorsas, Girey-
Dupre,an assistant of Brissot, Marchenna, a young Spaniard, who had come
to seek liberty in France, Rioufle, a young man attached from enthusiasm
to the Girondins, composed this band of illustrious fugitives, persecuted as
t2
222 HISTORY OF THE
traitors to their country, yet all ready to lay down their lives for it, and even
conceiving that they were serving while they were compromising it by the
most dangerous diversion.
In Bretagne, and in the departments of the West, and of the upper basin
of the Loire, the authorities were eager to retract in order to avoid being
outlawed. The constitution, transmitted to every part, was the pretext for
universal submission. The Convention, every one said, had no intention
to perpetuate itself or to seize the supreme power, since it gave a constitu-
tion ; this constitution would soon put an end to the reign of the factions,
and appeared to contain the simplest government that had ever been seen.
Meanwhile, the Mountaineer municipalities and the Jacobin clubs redoubled
their energy, and the honest partisans of the Gironde gave way to a revolu-
tion, which they had not been strong enough to combat, and which they
would not have been strong enough to defend. From that moment, Tou-
louse strove to justify itself. The people of Bordeaux, more decided, did
not formally submit, but they called in their advanced guard, and ceased to
talk of their march to Paris. Two other important events served to termi-
nate the dangers of the Convention in the West and South ; these were the
defence of Nantes, and the dispersion of the rebels of La Lozere.
We have seen the Vendeans at Saumur, masters of the course of the
Loire, and having it in their power, if they had dvdy appreciated their posi-
tion, to make an attempt upon Paris which might perhaps have succeeded,
for La Fleche and Le Mans were destitute of means of resistance. Young
Bonchamps, who alone extended his views beyond La Vendee, prop-
that they should make an incursion into Bretagne, for the purpose of securing
a seaport, and then marching upon Paris. But his colleagues were not suffi-
ciently intelligent to understand him. The real capital upon which they
ought to march, was, in their opinion, Nantes. Neither their wishes nor
their genius aspired to anything beyond that. There were, nevertht
many reasons for adopting this course ; for Nantes would open a communi-
cation with the sea, insure the possession of the whole country, and, after
the capture of that city, there would be nothing to prevent the Vendeans
from attempting the boldest enterprises. Besides, they could keep their
soldiers at home, — an important consideration with the peasants, who never
liked to lose sight of their church-steeple. Charette, master of Lower Vendee,
after a false demonstration upon Les Sables, had taken Machecoul, and
at the gates of Nantes. He had never concerted with the chiefs of Upper
Vendee, but on this occasion he offered to act in unison with them. He
promised to attack Nantes on the left bank, while the grand army should
attack it on the right, and with such a concurrence of means it seemed
scarcely possible that they should not succeed.
The Vendeans therefore evacuated Saumur, descended to Angers, and
prepared to march from Angers to Nantes along the right bank. Their
army was much diminished, because the peasants were unwilling to under-
take so long an expedition. Still it amounted to nearly thirty thousand
men. They appointed a generalissimo, and made choice of Cathelineau,
the carrier, in order to flatter the peasants and to attach them more strongly
to themselves.* M. de Lescure, who had been wounded, was to remain in the
• "After the taking of Saumur, M. de Lescure became feverish from fatigue and suffering,
having, been seven hours on horseback after his wound, and having lost much blood. He
was therefore prevailed on to retire to Boulaye till he should recover. Before seUing out he
assembled the officers, and said to them, ' Gentlemen, the insurrection has now become so
important, and our successes so promising, that we ought to appoint a general-in-chief ; and,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 223
interior of the country in order to raise new levies, to keep the troops at Niort
in check, and to prevent any obstruction being given to die siege of Nantes.
Meanwhile the commission of the representatives fitting at Toms applied
for succours in all quarters, and urged Biron, who was inspecting the coast,
to march with the utmost despatch, upon the rear of the Vendeans. Not
content with recalling Biron, it went so far as to order movements in his
absence, and sent off for Nantes all the troops that could be collected at
Sauinur. Biron immediately replied to the importunities of the commission,
-ented, he said, to the movement executed without his orders, but he
was obliged to guard Les Sables and La Rochelle, towns of much greater
importance in his opinion than Nantes. The battalions o£ the Gironde, the
best in the army, were on the point of leaving him, and he was obliged to
replace them ; it was impossible for him to move his army, lest it should
disperse and give itself up to pillage, such was its want of discipline ; the
utmost he could do, therefore, was to detach from it about three thousand
troops, and it would be nothing short of madness, he added, to march upon
Saumur, and to penetrate into the country with so inconsiderable a force.
Biron wrote at the same time to the committee of public welfare, tendering
his resignation, since the representatives thought fit thus to arrogate the
command to themselves. The committee replied that he was perfectly right;
that the representatives were authorized to advise or propose certain opera-
tions, but not to order them, and that it was for him alone to take such
measures as he deemed proper, for preserving Nantes, La Rochelle, and
Niort. Hereupon Biron made all possible efforts to compose a small and
more moveable army, with which he might be able to proceed to the succour
of the besieged city.
The Vendeans, meanwhile, quitted Angers on the 27th, and were in sight
of Nantes on the 28th. They sent a threatening summons, which was not
even listened to, and prepared for the attack. It was intended to take place
on both banks at two in the morning of the 29th. To guard an immense
tract, intersected by several arms of the Loire, Canclaux had no more than
about five thousand regular troops and nearly a similar number of national
guards. He made the best dispositions, and communicated the greatest
courage to the garrison. On the 29th, Charette attadked at the preconcerted
hour on the side where the bridges are situated ; but Cathelineau, who acted
on the right bank and had the most difficult part of the enterprise, was stop-
ped by the post of Niort, where a few hundred men made the most heroic
resistance. The attack, delayed on that side, became so much the more
difficult. The Vendeans, however, dispersed behind the hedges and in
the gardens, and hemmed in the town very closely. Canclaux, the general-
in-chief, and Beysser, commandant of the place, kept the republican troops
everywhere firm. Cathelineau, on his part, redoubled his exertions. He
had already penetrated far into a suburb, when he was mortally wounded by
although from several officers being absent, the present nomination can only be provisional, I
give my vote for Cathelineau.' The choice was universally applauded, except by the good
Cathelineau, who was astonished at the honour done him. His appointment was desirable
in all respects. It was he that first raised the country, and gained the first victories. He had
extraordinary courage, and great judgment In addition to all these recommendations, it was
good policy to have for general-in-chief a common peasant, at a moment when the spirit of
equality, and a keen jealousy of the noblesse, had become so general. The necessity of at-
tending to this general spirit was so much felt that the gentlemen took particular care to
treat the peasant officers as perfectly their equals. Equality, indeed, prevailed much more
in the Vendean that in the republican armies." — Memoirs of the Marchioness de Larocheja-
quclin. E.
224 HISTORY OF THE
a ball. His men retired in dismay, bearing him off upon their shoulders.
From that moment the attack slackened. After a combat of eighteen hours,
the Vendeans dispersed, and the place was saved.*
On this day every man had done his duty. The national guard had vied
with the troops of the line, and the mayor himself was wounded. Next day,
the Vendeans threw themselves into boats and returned into the interior of
the country. The opportunity for important enterprises was from that mo-
ment lost for them; thenceforth they could not aspire to accomplish any
thing of consequence, they could hope at most to occupy their own country.
Just at this instant, Biron, anxious to succour Nantes, arrived at Angers with
all the troops that he had been able to collect, and Westermann was repair-
ing to La Vendee with the Germanic legion.
No sooner was Nantes delivered, than the authorities strongly disposed in
favour of the Girondins, purposed to join the insurgents of the Calvados. It
actually passed a hostile resolution against the Convention. Canclaux op-
posed this proceeding with all his might, and succeeded in his efforts to bring
back the people of Nantes to order.
The most serious dangers were thus surmounted in this quarter. An
event of not less importance had just taken place in La Lozere; this was the
submission of thirty thousand insurgents, who could have communicated
either with the Vendeans, or with the Spaniards by Roussillon.
It was a most fortunate circumstance, that Fabre, the deputy sent to the
army of the Eastern Pyrenees, happened to be on the spot at the moment
of the revolt. He there displayed that energy which subsequenUy caused
him to seek and find death at the Pyrenees. He secured the authorities, put
the whole population under arms, collected all the gendarmerie and regular
troops in the environs; raised the Cantal, the Upper Loire, and the Puy-de-
Ddme ; and the insurgents, attacked at the very outset, pursued on all sides,
were dispersed, driven into the woods, and their leader, the ex-constituent
C harrier, fell into the hands of the conquerors. Proofs were obtained from
his papers that his design was connected with the great conspiracy discovered
six months before in Bretagne, the chief of which, La Rouarie, had died
without being able to realize his projects. In the mountains of the centre
and the south, tranquillity was therefore restored, the rear of the army of the
Pyrenees was secured, and the valley of the Rhone no longer had one of its
flanks covered by mountains brisding with insurgents.
An unexpected victory over the Spaniards in Roussillon completely in-
sured the submission of the South. We have seen them, after their first
march into the valleys of the Tech and the Tet, falling back to reduce Belle-
garde and Les Bains, and then returning and taking a position in front of the
French camp. Having observed it for a considerable time, they attacked it
on the 17th of July. The French had scarcely twelve thousand raw sol-
diers; the Spaniards, on the contrary, numbered fifteen or sixteen thousand
• The Vcndean army took the road from Angers to Nantes; but it was neither very nu-
merous nor very animated. Lescure and Larochejaquclcin were absent, as well as many of
their officers. In short, Cathelineau was said not to have eight thousand men when he ar-
rived before the town. The Vendeans showed in the attack more perseverance than could have
been expected. The battle lasted eighteen hours ; hut at last, having seen General Cathelineau
mortally wounded by a ball in his breast, the elder M. Fleuriot, who commanded the division
of Bonchamp, and several other officers disabled likewise, discouragement and fatigue caused
the soldiers to retire at the close of the day. The army was dissolved ; officers and soldiers
repassed the Loire ; and the right bank was entirely abandoned. Few soldiers were lost,
but the death of Cathelineau was a very great misfortune. — Memoirs off/ie Marchioness de
Larochejaquclcin. £.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 225
men, perfectly inured to war. Ricardos, witli the intention of surrounding
u.s, had divided his attack, too much. Our brave volunteers, supported by
General Barbantane and the brave Dagobert, remained linn in their intrench-
ments, and after unparalleled effort*, the Spaniards had determined to retire.
Dagobert, who was waiting for this moment, rushed upon them, but one of
his battalions suddenly fell into confusion, and was brought back in disorder.
Fortunately, at this sight, I)e Flers and Barbantane hastened to the succour
of Dagobert, and all dashed forward with such impetuosity that the enemy
was overthrown and driven to some distance. This action of the 17th of
July raised the courage of our soldiers, and according to the testimony of an
historian, it produced at the Pyrenees the effect which Valmi had produced
in Champagne in the preceding year.
Towards the Alps, Dubois-Crance\ placed between discontented Savoy,
"wavering Switzerland, and revolted Grenoble and Lyons, behaved with equal
energy and judgment. W-hile the sectionary authorities were taking before
his face the federalist oath, he caused the opposite oath to be taken at the
club and in his army, and awaited the first favourable moment for acting.
Having seized the correspondence of the authorities, he there found proofs
that they were seeking to coalesce with Lyons. He then denounced them
to the people of Grenoble as designing to effect the dissolution of the republic
by a civil war; and, taking advantage of a moment of excitement, he caused
them to be displaced, and restored all the powers to the old municipality.
From this moment, being at ease respecting Grenoble, he occupied himself
in reorganizing the army of the Alps, in order to preserve Savoy, and to
carry into execution the decrees of the Convention against Lyons and Mar-
seilles. He changed all the staffs, restored order in his battalions, incorpo-
rated the recruits furnished by the levy of the three hundred thousand men ;
and, though the departments of La Lozere and Haute Loire had employed
their contingent in quelling the insurrection in their mountains, he endea-
voured to supply its place by requisitions. After these first arrangements,
he sent off General Carteaux with some thousand infantry and with the le-
gion raised in Savoy, by the name of legion of the Allobroges, with instruc-
tions to proceed to Valence, to occupy the course of the Rhone, and to pre-
vent the junction of the Marseillais with the Lyonnese. Carteaux, setting
out early in July, marched rapidly upon Valence, and from Valence upon
St. Esprit, where he took up the corps of the people of Nimes, dispersed
some, incorporated others with his own troops, and secured both banks of
the Rhone. He proceeded immediately afterwards to Avignon, where the
Marseillais had some time before established themselves.
During these occurrences at Genoble, Lyons, still affecting the greatest
fidelity to the republic, promising to maintain its unity, its indivisibility,
nevertheless paid no obedience to the decree of the Convention, which re-
ferred the proceedings commenced against several patriots to the revolution-
ary tribunal in Paris. Its commission and its staff were full of concealed
royalists. Rambaud, president of the commission, Precy, commandant of
the departmental force, were secretly devoted to the cause of the emigration.
Misled by dangerous suggestions, the unfortunate Lyonnese were on the
point of compromising themselves with the convention, which, henceforward
obeyed and victorious, was about to inflict on the last city that continued in
rebellion the full chastisement reserved for vanquished federalism. Mean-
while they armed themselves at St. Fticnne, collected deserters of all sorts;
but, still seeking to avoid the appearance of revolt, they allowed convoys
destined for the frontiers to pass, and ordered Noel-Pointe, Santeyra, and
vol. ii. — 29
226 HISTORY OF THE
Lesterpt-Beauvais, the deputies, who had been arrested by the neighbouring
communes, to be set at liberty.
The Jura was somewhat quieted; Bassal and Gamier, the representatives,
whom we have there seen with fifteen hundred men surrounded by fifteen
thousand, had withdrawn their too inadequate force, and endeavoured to
negotiate. They had been successful, and the revolted authorities had
promised to put an end to this insurrection by the acceptance of die con-
stitution.
Nearly two months had elapsed since the 2d of June, (it was now near
the end of July); Valenciennes and Mayence were still threatened; but Nor-
mandy, Bretagne, and almost all the departments of the West, had returned
to obedience. Nantes had been delivered from the Vendeans ; the people of
Bordeaux durst not venture beyond their own walls; La Lozt're had submit-
ted; the Pyrenees were secured for the moment; Grenoble was pa
Marseilles was cut of from Lyons by the success of Carteaux; and Lyons,
though refusing to obey the decrees, durst not declare war. The authority
of the Convention was, therefore, nearly re-established in the interior. ( >n
the one hand, the dilatoriness of the federalists, their want of unity, and their
half measures ; on the other, the energy of the Convention, the unity of its
power, its central position, its habit of command, its policy, by turns subtle
and vigorous, had decided the triumph of the Mountain over this last effort
of the Girondins. Let us congratulate ourselves on this result; for,
at a moment when France was attacked, die more worthy to* command
was the stronger. The vanquished federalists condemned themselves by
their own words: "Honest men," said they, "never knew how to have
energy."
But while the federalists were succumbing on all sides, a last accident
served to excite the most violent rage against them.
At this period there lived in the Calvados a young female, about twenty-
five years of age, combining with great personal beauty a resolute and inde-
pendent character. Her name was Charlotte Corday, of Armans.* Her
* "Charlotte Corday was bom at St. Saturnin des Lignerets, in the year 1768. Nature
had bestowed on her a handsome person, wit, feeling, and a masculine understanding. She
received her education in a convent, where she laboured with constant assiduity to cultivate
her own powers. The Abbe Raynal was her favourite modern author; and the Revolution
found in her an ardent proselyte. Her love of study rendrred her careless of the homage
that her beauty attracted, though she was said to have formed an attachment to M. Belzunee,
major of the regiment of Bourbon, quartered at Caen. This young officer was massacred in
1789, after Marat in several successive numbers of his journal had denounced Belz.unce as a
counter-revolutionist From this moment Charlotte Corday conceived a great hatred of Ma-
rat, which was increased after the overthrow of the Qiiondins, whose principles she reve-
renced; und, being resolved to gratify her vengeance, she left Caen in 1793, and arrived
about noon on the third day at Paris. Early on the second morning of her arrival ■
into the Palais Royal, bought a knife, hired a coach, and drove to the house of Marat Being
denied admittance, she returned to her hotel, and wrote the following letter : ' Citizen, I have
just arrived from Caen ; your love for your country inclines me to suppose you will listen
with pleasure to the secret events of that part of the republic I will present myself at your
house; have the goodness to give orders for my admission, and grant me a moment's private
<iiiivi:s ition. I can point out the means by which you may render an important service to
France.' In the fear that this letter mipht not produce the effect she desired, she wrote an-
other, still more pressing, which she took herself. On knocking nt the door, Mnrat a
in his luith, ordered her to be instantly admitted ; when, being left alone with him, *hc an-
swered with perfect self-possession all his inquiries respecting the proscr l»ed deputies
While he made memorandums of their conversation, Charlotte Corday coolly i
her eye the spot whereon to strike; and then, snatching the weapon from her bo-
I....I...1 »l.« wiilwa tf.iir.. vi.vtit it-i Kia koiirl * A einffU AVi'la n.afl/\ffl 0M*atvt! \|1M|. * lit '.!> _
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
227
morals were irreproachable, but her mind was active and restless. She had
left her paternal home to live with more liberty at the house of a female friend
at Caen. Her father had formerly insisted in certain publications on thf
privileges of his province, at a time when France could still do no more than
insist upon the privileges of towns and provinces. Young Corday was an
enthusiast for the cause of the Revolution, like many other women of her
laps ; and, like Madame Roland, she was intoxicated with the idea of a re-
public submissive to the laws, and fertile in virtues. The Girondins appeared
to her desirous to realize her schemes ; the Mountaineers alone seemed to
throw obstacles in its way ; and on the tidings of the 31st of May, she de-
termined to avenge her favourite orators. The war of the Calvados com-
menced. She conceived that the death of the leader of the anarchists, con-
curring with the insurrection of the departments, would insure victory to the
latter ; she therefore resolved to perform a great act of self-devotion, and to
consecrate to her country a life of which a husband, children, family, con-
stituted neither the employment nor the delight. She wrote to her father,
intimating that, as the troubles in France were daily becoming more alarm-
ing, she was going to seek quiet and safety in England ; and, immediately
after thus writing, she set out for Paris. Before her departure she was soli-
citous to see at Caen the deputies who were the object of her enthusiasm and
devotion. She devised a pretext for introducing herself to them, and applied
to Barbaroux for a letter of recommendation to the minister of the interior,
having, site said, some papers to claim for a friend, formerly a canoness.
Barbaroux gave her one to Duperret,* the deputy, a friend of Garat. His
colleagues, who saw her as well as he, and who, like him, heard her express
her hatred of the Mountaineers, and her enthusiasm for a pure and regular
republic, were struck by her beauty and touched by her sentiments. All
were utterly ignorant of her intentions.
On reaching Paris, Charlotte Corday began to think of selecting her vic-
tim. Danton and Robespierre were sufficiently celebrated members of the
Mountain to merit the blow ; but Marat was the man who had appeared most
formidable to the provinces, and who was considered as the leader of the
anarchists. She meant at first to strike Marat on the very top of the Moun-
tain, and when surrounded by his friends ; but this she could not now do,
for Marat was in a state that prevented his attendance at the Convention.
The reader will no doubt recollect that he had withdrawn of his own accord
for a fortnight ; but seeing that the Girondins could not yet be brought to
he said, and expired. Having been tried and found guilty, Charlotte Corday still maintained
a noble and dignified deportment, welcoming death, not as the expiation of a crime, but os
the inevitable consequence of a mighty effort to avenge the injuries of a nation. The hoi*
of her punishment drew immense crowds to the place of execution. When she appeared
alone with the executioner in the cart, in despite of the constrained attitude in which she sa',
and of the disorder of her dress, she excited the silent admiration of those even who were
hired to curse her. One man alone had courage to raise his voice in her praise. His na:n«'
was Adam Lux, and he was a deputy from the city of Mentz. 'She is greater than Drut<is!'
he exclaimed. This sealed his death-warrant. He was soon afterwards guillotined.'' —
Dn Brum. E.
• u C. R. L. Duperret. a farmer, deputy to the Legislative Assembly, and afterwards to the
Convention, voted for the confinement of the King, and his banishment at a peac«. Attached
to the Gironde party, he nevertheless escaped lha proscription directed against them. Having
received I M;it from Charlotte Corday, he conducted her to the house of the minister of sin-
interior, and was denounced by Chabot as being implicated with her in the assassination of
Marat — a charge which he satisfactorily refuted. He was, however, condemned to death :n
the autumn of 1793, in the forty -sixth year of his age." — Bingraphie Modernt. E.
228 HISTORY OF THE
trial, he put an end to this ridiculous farce, and appeared again in his place.
One of those inflammatory complaints which in revolutions terminate those
stormy lives that do not end on the scaffold, soon obliged him to retire, and
to stay at home. There, nothing could diminish his restless activity. He
spent part of the day in his bath, with pens and paper beside him, writing,
constantly engaged upon his journal, addressing letters to the Convention,
and complaining that proper attention was not paid to them. He wrote one
more, saying that, if it were not read, he would cause himself to be carried,
ill as he was, to the tribune, and read it himself. In this letter he denounced
two generals, Custine and Biron. " Custine," he said, " removed from the
Rhine to the North, was playing the same game there that Dumouriez had
done ; he was slandering the anarchists, composing his staffs according to
his fancy, arming some battalions, disarming others, and distributing them
according to his plans, which no doubt were those of a conspirator." It
will be recollected that Custine was profiting by the siege of Valenciennes,
to reorganize the army of the North in Caesar's Camp. "As for Biron,"
Marat continued, " he was a former valet of the court ; he affected a great
fear of the English as a pretext for remaining in Lower Vendee, and leaving
the enemy in possession of Upper Vendee. He was evidently waiting only
for the landing of the English, that he might join them, and deliver our army
into their hands. The war in La Vendee ought by this time to be finished.
A man of any judgment, after seeing the Vendeans fight once, would be able
to find means for destroying them. As for himself, who also possessed
some military knowledge, he had devised an infallible manoeuvre, and, if
his state of health had not been so bad, he would have travelled to the banks
of the Loire, for the purpose of putting this plan in execution himselfr Cus-
tine and Biron were the two Dumouriezes of the moment ; and, after they
were arrested, it would be necessary to take a final measure, which would
furnish a reply to all calumnies, and bind all the deputies irrevocably to the
Revolution — that was, to put to death the Bourbon prisoners, and to set a
price on the heads of the fugitive Bourbons. Then there would be no pre-
text for accusing some of an intention to seat Orleans on the throne, while
the others would be prevented from making their peace with the Cap< l
family."
Here were shown, as we see, the same vanity, the same ferocity, and the
same promptness in anticipating popular apprehensions, as ever. Custine
and Biron were actually destined to become the two objects of the general
fury, and it was Marat who, ill and dying, had in this instance also the ho-
nour of the initiative.
In order to come at him, Charlotte Corday was therefore obliged to seek
hitn at his own home. She first delivered the letter which she had for I)u-
perret, executed her commission in regard to the minister of the interior, and
prepared to consummate her design. She inquired for Marat's residence of
a hackney-coachman, called at his house, but was not allowed to see him.
She then wrote, informing him that, having just arrived from the Cah
she had important matters to communicate. This was quite sufficient to
procure an introduction to him. Accordingly, she called on the 13th of July,
at eight in the evening. Marat's housekeeper, a young woman of twenty-
seven, with whom he cohabited, made some difficulties. Marat, who
in his hath, hearing Charlotte Corday, desired that she might be admitted.
Being left alone with him, she related what she had seen at Caen; then
listened to, and looked earnestly at him. Marat eagerly inquired the n:i
of the deputies then at Caen. She mentioned them, and he, snatching up a
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 229
pencii, began to write them down, adding, " Very good ; they shall all go to
the guillotine." — " To the guillotine !" exclaimed young Corday, with in-
dignation. At the same moment she took a knife from her bosom, struck
Marat below the left breast, and plunged the blade into his heart. »• Help!"
he cried; " help, my dear !" His housekeeper ran to him at his call. A
messenger, who was folding newspapers, also hastened to his assistance.
They found Marat covered with blood, and young Corday calm, serene,
motionless. The messenger knocked her down with a chair ; the house-
keeper trampled upon her. The tumult attracted a crowd, and presently
the whole quarter was in an uproar. Young Corday rose, and bore with
dignity the rage and ill-usage of those around her. Members of the section,
hearing of the circumstance, hastened to the spot; and, struck by her beauty,
her courage, and the composure with which she avowed the deed, prevented
her from being torn in pieces ; and conducted her to prison, where she con-
tinued to confess everything with the same composure.
This murder, like that of Lepelletier, caused an extraordinary sensation.
A report was immediately circulated that it was the Girondins who had
armed Charlotte Corday. The same thing had been said relative to Lepel-
letier, and it will be repeated on all similar occasions.
Their enemies were puzzled to discover crimes in the detained deputies :
the insurrection of the departments afforded a first pretext for sacrificing
them, by declaring them accomplices of the fugitive deputies ; the death of
Marat furnished the complement to their supposed crimes, and to the reasons
that were wanted for sending them to the scaffold.
The Mountain, the Jacobins, and the Cordeliers, in particular, who gloried
in having been the first to possess Marat, in having always continued to be
more intimately connected with him, and in having never disavowed him,
manifested profound grief. It was agreed that he should be buried in their
garden, and under those very trees, at the foot of which he was accustomed
in the evening to read his paper to the people. The Convention resolved
to attend his funeral in a body. At the Jacobins, it was proposed to decree
to him extraordinary honours. It was proposed to bury him in the Pan-
theon, though the law did not permit the remains of any individual to be
deposited there till twenty years after his death. It was further proposed
that the whole society should follow him in a body to the grave ; that the
presses of the " People's Friend" should be bought by the society, that they
might not pass into unworthy hands; that his journal should be continued
by successors capable, if not of equalling, at least of reminding the public
of" his energy, and of making some amends for the loss of his vigilance.
Robespierre who was always anxious to give greater importance to the
Jacobins, though he opposed all their extravagances, and who was desirous
of diverting to himself that attention which was too strongly fixed on the
martyr, made a speech on this occasion. " If I speak this day," said he,
" it is because I have a right to do so. You talk of daggers — they are wait-
ing for me. I have merited them ; and it is but the effect of chance tha.t
Marat has been struck before me. I have therefore a right to interfere in
the discussion, and I do so to express my astonishment that your energy
should here waste itself in empty declamations, and that you should think
of nothing but vain pomp. The best way of avenging Marat is to prosecute
his enemies without mercy. The vengeance which seeks to satisfy itself by
empty honour is soon appeased, and never thinks of employing itself in a
more real and more useful manner. Desist then from useless discussions,
and avenge Marat in a manner more worthy of him." This address put a
230 HISTORY OF THE
stop to all discussion, and the propositions which had been made were no
more thought of. Nevertheless the Jacobins, the Convention, the Corde-
liers, all the societies and the sections, prepared to decree him magnificent
honours. His body was exhibited for several days. It was uncovered, and
the wound which he had received was exposed to view. The popular
societies and the sections came in procession, and strewed flowers upon his
coffin. Each president delivered a speech. The section of the republic
came first. " He is dead !" exclaimed the president, " the Friend of the
People is dead. He died by the hand of the assassin ! Let us not pronounce
his panegyric over his inanimate remains ! His panegyric is his conduct, his
writings, his bleeding wound, and his death ! . . . . Fair citizens [citoy>
strew flowers on the pale corpse of Marat! Marat was our {Head, he was
the friend of the people ; for the people he lived, for the people he has died !"
At these words young females walked round the coffin, and threw flowers
upon the body of Marat. The speaker resumed : " But enough of lamenta-
tion ! Listen to the great spirit of Marat, which awakes and says to you,
4 Republicans, put an end to your tears . . . Republicans ought to shed but
one tear, and then think of their country. It was not I whom they meant
to assassinate, but the republic. It is not I whom you must avenge — it is
the republic, the people* yourselves !' "
All the societies, all the sections, came in this manner, one after another,
to the coffin of Marat; and if history records such scenes, it is to teach men
to consider the effect of the preoccupations of the moment, and to induce
them to enter into a strict examination of themselves, when they mourn over
the powerful or curse the vanquished of the day.
Meanwhile, the trial of young Corday was proceeding with all the rapidi-
ty of all the revolutionary forms. Two deputies had been implicated in
the affair ; one was Duperret, to whom she had brought a letter, and who
had taken her to the minister of the interior ; the other was Fauchet, formerly
a bishop, who had become suspected on account of his connexion with the
rigbt side; and whom a woman, either from madness or malice, falsely
declared she had seen in the tribunes with the accused.
Charlotte Corday, when brought before the tribunal, retained the same
composure as ever. The act of accusation was read to her, and the wit-
nesses were then examined. Corday interrupted the first witness, and before
he had time to commence his deposition, said, " It was I who killed Marat."
— " What induced you to commit this murder ?" — " His crimes." — "What
do you mean by his crimes ?" — " The calamities which he has occasioned
ever since the Revolution." — "Who instigated you to this action ?" — '-My-
self alone," proudly replied the young woman. " I had long resolved upon
it, and I should not have taken counsel of others for such an action. I was
anxious to give peace to my country." — " But do you think that you have
killed all the Marats ?" — "No," answered the accused, sorrowfully, "no."
She then suffered the witnesses to finish, and after each she repeated, "It is
true ; the deponent is right." She defended herself on one point only, and
that was, her alleged connexion with the Girondins. She contradicted only
a single witness, namely, the woman who implicated Duperret and Fauchet.
She then sat down again and listened to the rest of the proceedings with
perfect serenity. " You see," said her advocate, Chauveau Lagarde, as the
only defence he could make for her, " the accused confesses everything with
unshaken assurance. This composure, this self-denial, sublime in one re-
spect, can only be accounted for by the most exalted political fanaticism. It
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 231
is for you to judge what weight this -moral consideration ought to have in
the halance of justice."
Charlotte Corday was condemned to the penalty of death. Her beautiful
face betrayed no emotion at this sentence ; she returned to her prison with a
smile upon her lips ; she wrote to her father imploring him to forgive her
for baring disposed of her life ;* she wrote to Barbaroux and gave him m
account of her journey and of the deed she had perpetrated in a letter, full
of grace, mind, and lofty sentiment ; she told him that her friends ought not
to regret her loss, for a warm imagination and a tender heart promise but a
very stormy life to those who are endowed with them. She added that she
hm well revenged herself on Petion, who at Caen for a moment suspected
her political sentiments. Lastly, she begged him to tell Wimpfen that she
had assisted him to gain more than one batde. She concluded with these
words: "What paltry people to found a republic ! Peace ought at least to
be founded; let the government come as it can."
On the 15th Charlotte Corday underwent her sentence with that calmness
which had never forsaken her. She replied to the abuse of the rabble by
the most modest and the most dignified demeanour. All, however, did not
abuse her; many deplored that victim, so young, so beautifid, so disinterested
in her deed, and accompanied her to the scaffold with looks of pity and
admiration.t
Marat's body was conveyed with great pomp to the garden of the Corde-
liers. "That pomp," said the report of the commune, " had in it nothing
but what was simple and patriotic. The people, assembled under the ban-
ners of the sections, followed quietly. A disorder that might be called im-
posing, a respectful silence, a general consternation, presented a most touch-
ing spectacle. The procession lasted from six in the evening till midnight.
it consisted of citizens of all the sections, the members of the Convention,
those of the commune and of the department, the electors, and the popular
societies. On its arrival at the garden of the Cordeliers, the body of Marat
was set down under the trees, whose slightly agitated foliage reflected and
multiplied a mild faint light. The people surrounded the coffin in silence.
The president of the Convention first delivered an eloquent speech, in which
he declared that the time would soon come when Marat would be avenged :
but that it behoved them not to incur, by hasty and inconsiderate measures,
the reproaches of the enemies of the country. He added that liberty could
not perish, and that the death of Marat would only serve to consolidate it.
After several other speeches, which were warmly applauded, the body of
• " Pardon me, my dear father," wrote Charlotte Corday, " for having disposed of my
life without your permission. I have avenged many victims — prevented others. The peo-
ple will one day acknowledge the service I have rendered my country. For your sake I
wished to remain incognito; bat it was impossible. I only trust you will not be injured by
what I have done. Farewell, my beloved father ! Forget me, or rather rejoice at my fate,
for it has sprung from a noble cause. Embrace my sister for me, whom I love with all my
heart. Never forget the words of Corneille — the crime makes the shame, and not the scaf-
fold."— Alison. E.
■j- " On her way to the scaffold, Charlotte Corday heard nothing but applause and accla-
mation, yet by a smile alone she discovered what she felt. When she had ascended (he place
of execution, her face still glowed with the hue of pleasure; and even in her last moments,
the handkerchief which covered her bosom having been removed, her cheeks were suffused
with the blush of modesty. At the time of her death, she wanted three months of her
twenty-fifth year. She was descended from Peter Corneille." — Paris Journal, 1797. E.
" When the axe had terminated Charlotte Corday 's life, tho executioner held up her head,
which was lovely even in death, and gave it several bufTeU : the spectators shuddered at hu
atrocity '"—Lacrdclk. E.
232 HISTORY OF THE
Marat was deposited in the grave. Tears flowed, and all retired with hearts
wrung with grief."
The heart of Marat, disputed by several societies, was left with the Cor-
deliers. His bust, circulated everywhere along with that of Lepelletier and
of Brutus, figured in all the assemblies and public places. The seals put upon
his papers, were removed. Nothing was found in his possession but a five
franc assignat, and his poverty afforded a fresh theme for admiration. His
housekeeper, whom, according to the words of Chaumette, he had taken to
wife "one fine day, before the face of the sun," was called his widow, and
maintained at the expense of the state.
Such was the end of that man, the most singular of a period so fertile in
characters. Thrown into the career of science, he had endeavoured to over-
throw all systems ; launched into the political troubles, he conceived at the
very outset a horrible idea, an idea which revolutions daily realize u their
dangers increase, but which they never avow — the destruction of all their
adversaries.* Marat, observing that the revolution, though it condemned his
counsels, nevertheless followed them ; that the men whom he had denounced
were stripped of their popularity, and immolated on the day that he had pre-
dicted; considered himself as the greatest politician of modern times, \\;>.s
filled with extraordinary pride and daring, and was always horrible to his
adversaries, and even to his friends themselves at least strange. He eaine
to his end by an accident as singular as his life, and fell at a moment when
the chiefs of the republic, concentrating themselves for the purpose of form-
ing a cruel and gloomy government, could no longer put up with a mad,
systematic, and daring colleague, who would have deranged all their plans
by his vagaries. Incapable, in fact, of being an active and persuasive leader
he became the apostle of the Revolution ; and when there was no longer
need of any apostleship, but only of energy and perseverance, the dagger of
an indignant female Came most opportunely to make a martyr of him, and
to give a saint to the people, who, tired of their old images, felt the neces-
sity of creating new ones for themselves.
* " When Marat mounted the tribune with the list of proscribed patriots in his hand, and
dictated to the astonished Convention what name to insert, and what names to strike out, it
was not that poor, distorted scarecrow figure, and maniac countenance, which inspired awe,
and silenced opposition ; but he was hemmed in, driven on, sustained in the height of all his
malevolence, folly, and presumption by eighty thousand foreign bayonets, that sharpened his
worthless sentences, and pointed his frantic gestures. Paris threatened with destruction,
thrilled at his accents. Paris, dressed in her robe of flames, seconded his incendiary zeal. A
thousand hearts were beating in his bosom, which writhed like the sibyl's — a thousand dag-
gers were whetted on his stony words. Had he not been backed by a strong necessity and
strong opinion, he would have been treated as a madman ; but when his madness arose out
of the sacred cause and impending fate of a whole people, he who denounced the danger was
a 'seer blest' — he who pointed out a victim was the high-priest of freedom." — Hazlitt's Life
of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 233
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
DISTRIBUTION OF THE POWERS, AND MARCH OF PUBLIC OPINION
SINCE THE THIRTY-FIRST OF MAY— DISCREDIT OF DANTON— POLI-
TICS OF ROBESPIERRE— DEFEATS OF WESTERMANN AND LABARO-
LIERE IN LA VENDEE— SIEGE AND REDUCTION OF MAYENCE AND
VALENCIENNES— EXTREME DANGER— STATE OF THE PUBLIC SUP-
PLIES—DISCREDIT OF ASSIGNATS— MAXIMUM; STOCKJOBBING.
Of the so famed triumvirs, only Robespierre and Danton were now left.
In order to form an idea of their influence, we must see how the powers
were distributed, and what course public opinion had taken since the sup-
pression of the right side.
From the very day of its institution, the Convention was, in reality, pos-
sessed of all the powers. It disliked, however, to keep them ostensibly in
its own hands, as it wished to avoid the appearance of despotism. It there-
fore suffered a phantom of executive power to exist out of its bosom, and re-
tained ministers. Dissatisfied with their administration, the energy of which
was not proportionate to circumstances, it established, immediately after the
defection of Dumouriez, a committee of public welfare, which entered upon
its functions on the 10th of April, and which exercised a superior influence
over the government. It was empowered to suspend the execution of the
measures taken by the ministers, to supply deficiencies when it deemed them
inadequate, or to revoke them when it found them bad. It drew up the in-
structions for representatives sent on missions, and was alone authorized to
correspond with them. Placed in this manner above the ministers and the
representatives, who were themselves placed above the functionaries of all
kinds, it had in its hands the entire government. Though, according to its
title, this authority was but a mere inspection, it became in reality action it-
self; for the chief of a state never does anything himself: it is his province
to see that things are done according to his order, to select agents, and to
direct operations. Now, by the mere right of inspection, the committee was
empowered to do all this, and it did this. It directed the military operations,
ordered supplies, commanded measures of safety, appointed the generals and
the agents of all kinds, and each trembling minister was too happy to get rid
of all responsibility, by confining himself to the part of a mere clerk. The
members who composed the Committee of public welfare were Barrere, Del-
mas,* Breard, Cambon, Robert Lindet, Danton, Guyton-Morveau, Mathieu,
* "J. F. B. Delmas, originally a militia officer, and deputy to the legislature, was sent
in 1792 to the army of the North, to anounce the King's dethronement, but no sooner had
he become a member of the Convention, than he presided in the Jacobin society, and voted
for the death of Louis. In 1783 he was chosen a member of the committee of public
safety ; and in the following year was joined with Barras in the direction of the armed force
against Robespierre's partisans. He was afterwards appointed a member of the Council
of Ancients, who chose him for their secretary and president. In the year 1798 a fit
of decided madness terminated his political career." — Biographic Moderne.
vol. n. — 30 u 2
234 HISTORY OF THE
and Ramel. They were known to be able and laborious men, and though
they were suspected of some degree of moderation, they were not yet sus-
pected so much as to be considered, like the Girondins, accomplices of the
foreign powers.
In a short time, they accumulated in their hands all the affairs of the state,
and though they had been appointed for a month only, yet, from an unwil-
lingness to interrupt ftjfcir labours, the duration of the committee was
extended from month to month, from the 10th of April to the 10th of May,
from the 10th of May to the 10th of June, and from the 10th of June to
the 10th of July. Under the committee of public welfare, the committee
of general safety exercised the high police — a point of great importance in
times of distrust; but in its very functions it was dependent on the commit-
tee of public welfare, which, charged generally with every thing that
concerned the welfare of the state, became competent to investigate plots
that were likely to compromise the republic.
Thus, by its decrees, the Convention had the supreme will, by its repre-
sentatives and its committee, it had the execution, and though intending not
to unite all the powers in its own hands, it had been irresistibly urged to do
so by circumstances, and by the necessity for causing that to be executed
under its own eyes, and by its own members, which it would have deemed
ill done by other agents.
Nevertheless, though all the authority was exercised in its bosom, it was
only by the approbation of the government that it participated in the opera-
tions of the latter, and it never discussed them. The great questions of
social organization were resolved by the constitution, which established pure
democracy. The question whether its partisans should resort to the most
revolutionary means in order to save themselves, and if they should obey
all that passion could dictate, was resolved by the 31st of May. Thus the
constitution of the state and the moral policy were fixed. Nothing, there-
fore, but the administrative, financial, and military measures remained to be
examined. Now, subjects of this nature can rarely be comprehended by a
numerous assembly, and are consigned to the decision of men who make
them their special study. The Convention cheerfully referred on this point
to the committees appointed for the management of affairs. U had no
reason to suspect either their integrity, their intelligence, or Uieir zeal. It
was, therefore, obliged to be silent; and the last revolution, while taking
from it the courage, had also deprived it of the occasion, for discussion. It
was now no more than a council of state, whose committees, charged with
certain labours, came every day to submit reports, which were always ap-
plauded, and to propose decrees which were uniformly adopted. The
sittings become dull, tranquil, and very short, did not now last, as formerly,
whole days and nights.
Below the Convention, which attended to general matters of government,
the commune superintended the municipal system, in which it made a real
revolution. No longer thinking, since the 31st of May, of conspiring and
of employing the local force of Paris against the Convention, it directed its
attention to the police, the supply of provisions, the markets, the chureh,
the theatres, and even to the public prostitutes, and framed regulations on all
these objects of internal and private government, which soon became models
for all France. Chaumctte, its procurrur gen^raf. always listened to and
applauded by the people, was the reporter of this municipal legislature.
Seeking constantly new subjects lor regulating, continually encroaching
upon private liberty, this legislator of die hulks and of die markets, became
BLLfiV.I&JSV.lPo
:>iihlmhpH "t,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 235
every day more annoying and more formidable. Pache, cold as ever, suf-
fered everything to be done before his face, gave his approbation to the
measures proposed, and left to Chaumette the honours of the municipal
tribune.
The Convention, leaving its committees to act, and the commune being
exclusively engaged with its duties, the discussion of matters of govern-
ment rested with the Jacobins. They alone investigated, with their wonted
boldness, the operations of the government and the conduct of each of its
agents. They had long since acquired, as we have seen, very great import-
ance by their number, by the celebrity and the high rank of most of their
members, by the vast train of their branch societies, and lastly, by their
old standing and long influence upon the Revolution. But, the 31st of May
having silenced the right side of the Assembly', and given predominance to
the system of unbounded energy, they had recently gained an immense
power of opinion, and inherited the right of speaking, abdicated in some
measure by the Convention. They persecuted tiie committees with a con-
tinual superintendence, discussed their conduct and that of the representa-
ministera, and generals, with that rage for personality which was
peculiar to them ; and they exercised over all the agents an inexorable cen-
sorship, frequently unjust, but always beneficial on account of the terroi
which it excited, and the assiduity which it created in them all. The othei
popular societies had likewise their liberty and their influence, but yet sub-
mitted to the authority of the Jacobins. The Cordeliers, for instance, more
turbulent, more prompt in acting, deferred, nevertheless, to the superiority
of reason of their elder brethren, and suffered themselves to be guided by
their counsels, whenever they happened, from excess of revolutionary impa-
tience, to anticipate the proper moment for a proposition. The petition of
Jacques Koux, withdrawn by the Cordeliers, on the recommendation of the
Jacobins, was a proof of this deference.
Such was, since the 31st of May, the distribution of powers and influ-
ence. There were seen at once a governing committee, a commune attending
to municipal regulations, and the Jacobins, keeping a strict and continual
watch upon the government.
Two months had not elapsed before the public opinion began to animad-
vert severely upon the existing administration. Men's minds could not
dwell upon the 31st of May; they were impelled to go beyond it, and
it was natural that they should constantly demand more energy, more
celerity, and more results. In the general reform of the committees required
on the 2d of June, the committee of public welfare, composed of indus-
trious men, strangers to all the parties, and engaged in labours which it
Mould be dangerous to interrupt, had been spared; but it was remembered
that it had hesitated from the 31st of May to the 2d of June, that it had
proposed to negotiate with the departments and to send them hostages, and
it had thence been concluded that it was inadequate to the circumstances.
Having been instituted in the most difficult momeqt, defeats were imputed
to it which were occasioned by our unfortunate situation, and not by any
fault on its part. As the centre of all operations, it was overwhelmed with
business, and it was accused of burying itself in papers, of suffering itself
to be engrossed by details— of being, in short, worn out and incapable,
lished, nevertheless, at the moment of the defection of Dumouriez,
when all the armies were disorganized, when La Vendee began the insur-
rection, when Spain was beginning the war, it had reorganised the army of
the Nordi and that of the Rhine ; it had created the armies of the Pyrenees
236 HISTORY OF THE
and La Vendee, which did not exist, and provisioned one hundred and
twenty-six fortresses or forts ; and though much yet remained to be done in
order to place our forces upon the requisite footing, sdll it was a great thing to
have accomplished so much in so short a time, and amidst the obstacles of
the insurrection in the departments. But public impatience required still
more than had been done, nay, even than could be done, and it was precisely
in this manner that it produced an energy so extraordinary and proportionate
to the danger. To increase the strength of the committee and to infuse into
it fresh revolutionary energy, St.-Just, Jean-Bon-St.-Andre, and Couthon,
were added to it. Still people were not satisfied. They admitted thai the
new members were certainly excellent men, but declared that their influence
was neutralized by the others.
Opinion was not. less severe upon the ministers. Garat, minister of the
interior, who was first viewed with some favour on account of his neutrality
between the Girondins and the Jacobins, was nothing but a moderate after
the 2d of June. Having been directed to draw up a paper to enlighten the
departments on the recent events, he had composed a long dissertation, in
which he explained and balanced all the faults of all the parties, with an im-
partiality no doubt highly philosophic, but not at all adapted to the feelings of
the moment. Robespierre, to whom he communicated this far too discreet
paper, condemned it. The Jacobins were soon apprized of the circumstance,
and charged Garat with having done nothing to counteract the poison dif-
fused by Roland. D'Albarade, minister of the marine, was in nearly the
same predicament. He was accused of leaving all the old aristocrats in the
higher ranks of the navy. It was true enough that he had retained many
of them, as the events at Toulon soon afterwards proved : but it was much
more difficult to clear the naval than the military force, because the peculiar
acquirements and experience demanded by the navy do not permit old offi-
cers to be superseded by new ones, or a peasant to be transformed in six
months into a sailor, a petty officer, or an admiral. Bouchotte, the minister
at war, had alone remained in favour, because, after the example of Pache,
his predecessor, he had thrown open his office to die Jacobins and the Cor-
deliers, and had lulled their distrust by appointing them to places in his de-
partment. Almost all the generals were accused, and especially the nobles ;
but there were two in particular who had become the bugbears of the day :
these were Custine in the North, and Biron in the West. Marat, as we
have seen, had accused them a few days before his death ; and ever since
that accusation, everybody was asking why Custine tarried in' Caesar's Camp
without raising the blockade of Valenciennes — why Biron, inactive in
Lower Vendue, had allowed Saumur to be taken and Nantes to be besieged.
The same distrust pervaded the interior. Calumny alighted upou all
heads, and misled Uie best patriots. As Uiere was now no right side to
which everything could be . attributed, as there was now no Roland, no
Brissot, no Guadet, to whom treason could be imputed on every alarm, ac-
cusation threatened the most decided republicans. An incredible mania of
suspicion and accusation prevailed. The longest and the most steady iwo-
lutionary life was now no security, and a person was liable to be assimilated
in a day, in an hour, to the greatest enemies of the republic. The imagina-
tion could not so soon break the spell in which it was held by Dan ton, whose
daring and whose eloquence had infused new courage in all decisive circum-
stances ; but Danton carried into the revolution a most vehement passion for
the object without any hatred against persons, and this was not enough.
The spirit of revolution is composed of passion for the object and hatred
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 237
against those who throw obstacles in its way. Danton had hut one of these
Bentiments. In regard to revolutionary measures tending to strike the rich,
to rouse the indifferent to activity, and to develop the resources of the nation,
be had gone all lengths, and had devised the boldest and the most violent
means ; but, easy and forbearing towards individuals, he did not discover
enemies in all : he saw among them men differing in character and intellect,
whom it behoved him to gain or to take, with the degree of their energy,
such as it w as. He had not considered Dumouriez as a traitor, but as a dis-
contented man driven to extremity. He had not regarded the Girondins as
accomplices of Pitt, but as upright though incapable men ; and he would
have wished them to be removed, not sacrificed. It was even said that he
was offended at the order given by Henriot on the 2d of June. He shook
hands with noble generals, dined with contractors, conversed familiarly with
men of all parties, sought pleasure, and had drunk deeply of it during the
revolution.
All this was well known, and the most equivocal rumours were circulated
relative to his energy and his integrity. On one day it was said that Dan-
ton had ceased to attend at the Jacobins ; his indolence, his fondness for
pleasure were talked of; and it was asserted that the Revolution had not
been to him a career devoid of gratification. On another day a Jacobin said
in the tribune, " Danton left me to go and shake hands with a general."
Sometimes complaints were made of the persons whom he had recommended
to the ministers. Not daring to attack him personally, people attacked his
friends. Legendre, the butcher, his colleague in the deputation of Paris, his
lieutenant in the streets and the fauxbourgs, and the copyist of his coarse
and wild eloquence, was treated as a moderate by Hebert and the other tur-
bulent spirits at the Cordeliers. " I, a moderate !" exclaimed Legendre, at
the Jacobins, " when I am always reproaching myself with exaggeration ;
when they write from Bordeaux, that I knocked down Guadet ; when it is
stated in all the papers, that I collared Lanjuinais, and dragged him along
the floor !"
Another friend of Danton, an equally well-known and tried patriot, Ca-
mille-Desmoulins,* at once the most natural, the most comic, and the most
eloquent writer produced by the Revolution, was also accused of being a
moderate. Caniille was well acquainted with General Dillon, who, placed
by Dumouriez at the post of the Islettes in the Argonne, had there dis-
played equal firmness and intrepidity. Camille had convinced himself that
Dillon was nothing but a brave man, without any political opinion, but en-
dowed with great military genius, and sincerely desirous to serve the repub-
lic. All at once, owing to that unaccountable distrust which prevailed, it
was reported that Dillon was going to put himself at the head of a con-
spiracy for the purpose of seating Louis XVII. on the throne. The com-
mittee of public welfare immediately issued orders for his arrest. Camille,
• " This brilliant, but headstrong young man had followed every early movement of the
Revolution, approving of all its measures and all its excesses. His heart, however, was kind,
and gentle, although his opinions had been violent, and his pleasantries often cruel. He had
approved of the revolutionary government, because he had conceived it indispensable to lay
the foundation of the republic; he bad co-operated in the ruin of the Girondc, because he
feared the dissensions of the republic. The republic ! It was to this he had sacrificed even
his scruples and his sympathies, his justice and his humanity. Ho had given everything to
his party, thinking he had given it to his country. In his Old Cordelier he spoke of liberty
with the profound sense of Machiavel; and of men, with tho wit of Voltaire." — Mig-
net. E.
238 HISTORY OF THE
certain, from his own knowledge, that such a report was a mere fahle, began
to defend Dillon before the Convention. From all quarters he was assailed
with cries of, " You dine with the aristocrats." — " Don't let Camille dis-
grace himself," exclaimed Billaud-Varennes, interrupting him. " You won't
let me speak, then?" rejoined Camille; "well, I have my inkstand left ;"
and he immediately wrote a pamphlet entitled, Letter to Dillon, full of
energy and reason, in which he deals his blows on all sides and at all per-
sons. To the committee of public welfare, he says, " You have usurped all
the powers, taken all affairs into your hands, and bring none of them to a
conclusion. Three of you were charged with the war department ; one is
absent, the other ill, and the third knows nothing about it. You leave at
the head of our armies, the Custines, the Birons, the Menous, the Berthiers,
all aristocrats, or Fayettists, or incapables." To Cambon, he says, " I
comprehend nothing of thy system of finance, but thy paper is very like
Law's, and passes as quickly from hand to hand." He says to Billaud-Va-
rennes, " Thou hast a grudge against Arthur Dillon, because he led thee,
when commissioner to his army, into the fire ;" and to St. Just, " Thou hast
a high opinion of thyself, and holdest up thy head like a St.-Sacrament ;"*
to Breard, to Delmas, to Barrere, and others, " You wanted to reign on the
2d of June, because you could not look coolly at that Revolution, so frightful
did it appear to you." He adds, that Dillon is neither republican, federalist,
nor aristocrat; that he is a soldier, and solicitous only to serve; that, in
point of patriotism, he is worth the committee of public welfare and all the
staff retained at the head of the armies put together; that at any rate he is
an excellent officer, that the country is but too fortunate to be able to keep a
few such, and that it must not be imagined that every sergeant can make a
general. " Since," he added, " an unknown officer, Dumouriez, conquered,
in spite of himself, at Jemappes, and took possession of all Belgium and
Breda, like a quartermaster with his chalk, the success of the republic has
thrown us into the same kind of intoxication as the success of his reign im-
parted to Louis XIV. He picked up his generals in his antechamber, and
we fancy we can pick up ours in the streets. We have even gone so far as
to assert that we have three millions of generals."
It is obvious, from this language and from these cross-fires, that confusion
prevailed in the Mountain. This situation is usually that of every party
which has just been victorious, that is, splitting, but whoso fractions arc not
yet completely detached. There was not yet any new party formed among
the conquerors. The epithet ofmodeni exage're, hovered over every head,
but did not yet alight upon any. Amidst all this tumult of opinion, the re-
putation of one man continued inaccessible to attack — that was Robespierre's.
He was not reproached with indulgence for any person whatever. He had
never shown affection for any proscribed individual ; he had never associated
with any general, financier', or deputy. He could not be charged with having
indulged in pleasure during the Revolution, for he lived obscurely at a cabi-
net-maker's, and kept up an entirely unknown connexion with one of his
daughters. Austere, reserved, upright, he was, and was rcputrd i > be,
incorruptible.t Nothing could be laid to his charge but pride, a kind of \
• "In speaking of St. Just on one occasion, Camillc-Desmoulins had said, 'He considers
himself so long as he carries his head respectably on his shoulder* as a St. Sacrament.' —
• And I,' replied Just, 'will soon make him carry his like a St. Dennis !' " — Miami- !'<•
\ " Robespierre, observed Napoleon, was by no means the worst charart'-r woo figured in
the Revolution. He was a fanatic, a monster ; but he was incorruptible, and incapable of rob-
bing, or of causing the deaths of others, either from personal enmity, or a desire of enriching
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 239
9
which docs not stain like corruption, but which does great mischief in civil
dissensions, and becomes terrible in austere men, in religious or political
devotees, because, being their only passion, it is indulged by them without
distraction and without pity.
Robespierre was the only man who could repress certain movements of
revolutionary impatience without causing his moderation to be imputed to
ties of pleasure or interest. His resistance, whenever he opposed, was never
attributed to anything but reason. He felt this position, and he began, for
the first time, to form a system for himself. Wholly intent up to this time
on the gratification of his hatred, he had studied only how to drive the Revo-
lution over the Girondins. Now, perceiving danger to the patriots in a new
excitement of opinion, he thought that it was right to keep up respect for the
Convention and the committee of public welfare, because the whole authority
resided in them, and could not be transferred to other hands without tremen-
dous confusion. Resides, he was a member of that Convention ; he could
not fail to be soon in the committee of public welfare, and he defended atone
and the same time an indispensable authority, of which he was about to form
a part. As every opinion was first formed at the Jacobins, he strove to se-
cure them more and more, to bind them to the Convention and the committees,
calculating that he could sever them again whenever he should think fit.
Constant in his attendance, but constant to them alone, he flattered them by
his presence ; and, speaking but seldom in the Convention, where, as we
have said, there was now scarcely any speaking, he frequently delivered his
sentiments from their tribune, and never suffered any important motion to
pass, without discussing, modifying, or opposing it.
On this point his conduct was much more ably calculated than that of
Danton. Nothing offends men, and favours equivocal reports, more than
absence. Danton, careless, like men of ardent and impassioned genius, was
too little at the Jacobins. When he did appear there, he was obliged to jus-
tify himself, to declare that he was still a good patriot, to say, that, " if he
sometimes showed a certain degree of indulgence for the purpose of bringing
back weak but excellent minds, they might be assured that his energy was
not on that account diminished, that he still watched with the same zeal over
the interests of the republic, and that it would be victorious." Vain and
dangerous excuses! As soon as a man is obliged to explain and justify
himself, he is controlled by those whom he addresses. Robespierre, on the
contrary, always present, always ready to repel insinuations, was never re-
duced to the necessity of justifying himself. He assumed, on his part, an
accusing tone ; he scolded his trusty Jacobins ; and he had skilfully seized
that point when the passion that one excites is so decided as to be only in-
creased by severity.
We have seen how he treated Jacques Roux, who had proposed a petition
against the constitutional act. He pursued the same course on all occasions
himself. He was an enthusiast, but one who really believed that he was acting rightly, ami
died not worth a sou. In some respects, Robespierre may be said to have been an honest
man. All the crimes committed by IleU-rt, Chaumette, Collot-d'Herbois and others, were
imputed to him. It was truly astonishing to see those fanatics, who, bathed up to the elbows
in blood, would not for the world have taken a piece of money or ja watch, from the victims
they were butchering! Such was the power of fanaticism, that they actually bettered they
were acting well at a time when a man's life was no more regarded by them than that of a
fly ! At the very time when Marat and Rolwspierre were committing those massacres, if
Pitt had offered them two hundred millions of money, they would have refused it with indig-
nation."— Voice from St. Helena. E.
240 HISTORY OF THE
when matters relating to the Convention were discussed. It was purified, he
said ; it now deserved nothing but respect ; whoever accused it was a had
citizen. The committee of public welfare had, to be sure, not done all that
it ought to have done (for, while defending them, Robespierre never failed
to censure those whom he defended); but this committee was in a bel
train ; to attack it was to destroy the necessary centre of all the authon
to weaken the energy of the government, and to compromise the republic.
When a "disposition was shown to pester the Convention or the committee
with too many petitions, he opposed it, saying, that it was wasting the in-
fluence of the Jacobins, and the time of the depositories of power. One
day, it was proposed that the sittings of the committee should be public :
he inveighed against this motion, saying, that they were concealed enemies,
who, under the mask of patriotism, brought forward the most inflammatory
propositions; and he began to maintain that foreigners kept in their pay two
classes of conspirators in France, the exaggerates, who urged everything <m
to disorder, and the moderates, who wanted to paralyze everything by their
effeminacy.
The committee of public welfare had been thrice prorogued. On the 10th
of July it was to be prorogued a fourth time, or renewed. On the 8th there
was a full meeting at the Jacobins. On all sides it was said that the mem-
bers of the committee ought to be changed, and that it ought not to be a^ain
prorogued, as it had been for three successive months. "The commit'
said Bourdon, " has, no doubt, good intentions. I mean not to lay anything
to its charge ; but it is a misfortune incident to human nature to profess en-
ergy for a few days only. The present members of the committee have
already passed that period. They are worn out. Let us change them. We
want, now-a-days, revolutionary men, men to whom we can commit the fate
of the republic, and who will answer for it with their lives."
The fiery Chabot succeeded Bourdon. " The committee," said he, " ought
to be renewed. We must not suffer a new prorogation. To add to it a lew
more members, known to be good patriots, will not be sufficient ; for this
has been proved by what has just happened." Couthon, St.-Just, and Jean-
Bon-St.-Andre, recently appointed, had been ousted by their colleagues.
Neither ought the committee to be renewed by secret ballot, for the new one
would be no better than the old one, which was good for nothing. "11;
heard Mathieu," continued Chabot, " make the most iheivic speeches at the
society of the female revolutionists. Ramel* has written to Toulouse that
the landed proprietors alone could save the 'commonwealth, and that e
must be taken not to put arms into the hands of the sans-culoftf s. Cambon
is a dolt, who sees all objects magnified, and is frightened at them when a
hundred paces off. Guyton-Morveau is an honest man, but a quakei who
is always trembling. Delmas, to whom some of the appointments were
left, has made a bid choice, and filled the army with counter-re volution
lastly, this committee was friendly towards Lebrun, and is hostile to Bou-
chotte."
Robespierre was eager to answer Chabot. " 1 feel," said ho, " that even-
sentence, every word of Chabot's speech, breathes the purest patriotism ;
• " Ramel served in the army from the age of fifteen, passed through all the ranks, and
at the end of 1792 obtained the post of adjutant-general, lie had Been but little service, and
had never distinguished himself until he obtained the command of the grenadtera of the
guard of the legislative body, when he brought himself into public notice for a short time.
It was his favourite boast that he was equally odious to the royalists and the anarchists." —
Hiognijihie Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 211
but I perceive in it also that overheated patriotism which is angry hecause
everything does not turn out according to its wishes, which is irritated
because tlir committee of public welfare has not attained in its operations an
ini|i(»si!)lc perfection, and which Chabot will nowhere lind.
**. Like him, 1 am of opinion that this committee is not composed of men
all equally enlightened, equally virtuous: but what body will he lind that is
so composed? Can he prevent men from being liable to error.' Has he
not seen the Convention, since it vomited forth from its bosom the traitors
who dishonoured it, assuming new energy, a grandeur which had been
foreign to it until this day, and a more august character in its representation .'
Is not this example sufficient to prove that it is not always necessary to
destroy, and that it is sometimes more prudent to do no more than to reform ?
"Yes, indeed, there are in the committee of public welfare men capable
of readjusting the machine, and giving new power to its means. In this
they ought to be encouraged. Who will forget the services which this
committee has rendered to the public cause, the numerous plots which it
has discovered, the able reports for which we are indebted to it, the judicious
and profound views which it has unfolded to us ?
" The Assembly has not created a committee of public welfare with die
intention of influencing it, or itself directing its decrees ; but this committee
has been serviceable to it in separating that which was good in the measures
proposed from that which, presented in an attractive form, might have led to
the most dangerous consequences. It has given the first impulse to several
essential determinations which have perhaps saved die country ; but it has
spared it the inconveniences of an arduous and frequently unproductive toil,
by submitting to it the results already happUy discovered, of a labour with
which it was not sufficiently familiar.
" All this is enough to prove that the committee of public welfare has not
been of so litde benefit as people affect to believe. It has its faults, no
doubt ; it is not for me to deny them. Is it likely that I should incline to
indulgence — I, who think that nothing has been done for the country while
anything remains undone? Yes, it has its faults, and I am willing to join
you in charging it with them ; but it would be impolitic at this moment to
draw the disfavour of the people upon a committee which needs to be in-
vested with all their confidence, which is charged with important interests,
and from which the country expects great services ; and, though it has not
the approbation of the revolutionary republican female citizens, I deem it to
be not less adapted to its important operations."
After this speech of Robespierre, the discussion was dropped. Two days
afterwards the committee was renewed, and reduced to nine members, as at
first. These new members were Barrere, Jean-Bon-St.-Andre, Gasparin,
Couthon, Herault-Sechelles, St.-Just, Thuriot, Robert Lindet, and Prieur
of La Marne. All the members accused of weakness were dismissed, ex-
cepting Barrere, whose extraordinary talent for drawing up reports, and
whose facility in bending to circumstances, had obtained for him forgiveness
for the past. Robespierre was not yet there ; but a few days later, when
there was somewhat more danger on the frontiers and terror in the Conven-
tion, he was destined to- become a member of this committee.
Robespierre had several other occasions to employ his new policy. The
navy began to excite some uneasiness. Constant complaints were made
against d'Albarade, the minister, and Monge his predecessor, on account of
the deplorable state of our squadrons, which after their return from Sardinia
to the dockyard of Toulon, were not repaired, and which were commanded
vol. ii. — 31 X
242 HISTORY OF THE
by old officers, almost all of them aristocrats. Complaints were likewise
made of some new appointments in the navy-office. A man, named Peyron,
who had been sent to reorganize the army at Toulon, was accused among
others. He had not done, it was alleged, what he ought to have done; the
minister was held responsible, and the minister had shifted the responsibilitv
to an eminent patriot by whom Peyron had been recommended to him. The
designation of eminent patriot was significantly employed by the speaker,
who did not venture to name him. " Name ! name !" cried several vo:
" Well, then," rejoined the denouncer, " that eminent patriot is Danton."
Murmurs burst forth at these words. Robespierre hastened to the tribune.
"I propose," said he, " that the farce should cease, and the sitting begin.
. . . D'Albarade is accused ; I know nothing of him but by public report,
which proclaims him a patriot minister. But what is he charged with h
— an error. And what man is exempt from error ? A choice that he has
made has not answered the general expectation ! Bouchotte and Pache
have also made faulty selections, and yet they are two genuine republicans,
two sincere friends of the country. A man is in place. That is enough —
he is calumniated. Ah ! when shall we cease to believe all the absurd o\
perfidious tales that pour in upon us from all quarters !
" I have perceived that to this rather general denunciation of the minister
has been appended a particular denunciation against Danton. And is it of
him that people want to make you suspicious ? But if, instead of dis-
couraging patriots from seeking with such care after crimes where scan-civ
a slight error exists, you were to take a little pains to facilitate their opera-
tions, to render their track clearer and less thorny ; that would be more
honourable and the country would benefit by it. Bouchotte has/hern de-
nounced, Pache has been denounced, for it is decreed that the best patriots
should be denounced. It is time to put an end to these ridiculous and
afflicting scenes. I should rejoice if the society of Jacobins would confine
themselves to a series of matters which they could discuss with advantage ;
and if they would check the great number of those which excite agitation in
their bosom, and which are for the most part equally futile and dangerous."
Thus Robespierre, perceiving the danger of a new excitement of opinion,
which might have overturned the government, strove to bind the Jacobins to
the Convention, to the committees, and to the old patriots. All was profit
for him in this praiseworthy and useful policy. In paving the way to tbe
power of the committees, he paved the way to his own ; in defending tbe
patriots of the same date and the same energy as himself, he secured his
own safety, and prevented opinion from striking victims by bis side; he
placed very far beneath him those to whom he lent his protection ; lastly.
he caused himself to be adored by the Jacobins for his very severity, and
gained a high reputation for wisdom. In this Robespierre was actuated by
no other ambition than that of all the revolutionary chiefs who had endea-
voured to hold fast the Revolution for themselves ; and this policy, which
had deprived them all of their popularity, was not destined to render him
unpopular, because the Revolution was approaching the term of its dangers
and of its excesses. •
The detained deputies had been placed under accusation immediately after
the death of Marat, and preparations were made for their trial. It \
already said that the heads of the remaining Bourbons ought to fall, though,
those heads were the heads of two women, one the wife, the other t
of the late King, and that of the Duke of Orleans, so faithful to the Revolu-
tion, and now imprisoned at Marseilles as a reward for his services.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 243
A festival had been ordered for the acceptance of the constitution. All the
primary assemblies were to send deputies to l \ press their wishes, and
to meet for the purpose of holding a solemn festival in the field of the federa-
tion. The day fixed upon was not the 1 4th of July, as formerly, but the
10th of August, for the taking of the Tuileries bad founded the republic.
whereas the taking of the Bastille had only abolished feudalism, and left the
monarchy standing. Thus the republicans and the constitutional royalists
differed on this point, that the one celebrated the 10th of August, the others
the 14th of July.
Federalism was expiring, and the acceptance of the constitution wa
neral. Bordeaux still maintained the greatest reserve, doing no act eithei
of submission or hostility ; but it accepted the constitution. Lyons conti-
nued the proceedings, which it had been ordered to transfer to the revolu-
tionary tribunal ; but, rebellious on this point, it submitted in respect to the
others, and adhered also to the constitution. Marseilles alone refused its
adhesion. But its little army, already separated from that of Languedoc,
had, towards the end of July, been driven from Avignon, and had recrossed
the Durance. Thus federalism was vanquished, and the constitution tri-
umphant. But the danger had increased on the frontiers ; it became urgent
in La Vendee, on the Rhine, and in the North ; new victories made the
Vendeans amends for their check before Nantes ; and Mayence and Valen-
ciennes were more closely pressed than ever.
We left the Vendeans returning to their own country after the expedition
against Nantes. Biron arrived at Angers after Nantes was delivered, and
concerted a plan with General Canclaux. Westermann had meanwhile pro-
ceeded to Niort with the Germanic legion, and had obtained permission from
Biron to advance into the interior of the country. Westermann was the
same Alsatian who had distinguished himself on the 10th of August, and had
decided the success of that day; who had served with glory under Dumou-
riez, connected himself with that general and with Danton, been accused by
Marat, and even caned him, it was said, for his abusive language. He was
one of those patriots, whose eminent services were acknowledged, but whom
people began to reproach for the pleasures in which they had indulged dur-
ing the Revolution, and with whom they began already to be disgusted,
because they required discipline in the armies, and knowledge in the officers,
and were not for turning out every noble general, or calling every beaten
general a traitor.
Westermann had formed a legion called the Germanic, of four or five thou-
sand men, comprehending infantry, cavalry, and artillery. At the head of
this little army, of which he had made himself master, and in which he
maintained strict discipline, he had displayed the greatest daring, and per-
formed brilliant exploits. Transferred to La Vendee with his legion, he had
organized it anew, and driven from it the cowards who had denounced him.
He manifested a sovereign contempt for those untrained battalions which
pillaged and laid waste the country ; he professed the same sentiments as
Biron, and was classed with him among the military aristocrats. Bouchotte,
the minister at war, had, as we have seen, sent his agents, Jacobins and
Cordeliers, into La Vendee. There they placed themselves on an equality
with the representatives and the generals, authorized plunder and extortion
under the name of military requisitions, and insubordination under tlhe pre-
text of defending the soldier against the despotism of the officers*
The chief clerk in the war department under Bouchotte was Vincent, a
young frantic Cordelier, the most dangerous and the most turbulent spirit of
244 HISTORY OF THE
that period. He governed Bouchette, selected persons for all appointments,
and persecuted the generals with extreme severity. Ronsin, the commis-
sary sent to Dumouriez, when his contracts were annulled, was a friend of
Vincent and of Bouchotte, and the principal of their agents in La Vendee, with
die title of assistant minister. Under him were Momoro, a printer, Gram-
mont, a comedian, and several others, who acted in the same spirit and with
the same violence. Westermann, already not on good terms with them,
made them his decided enemies by an act of energy. One Rossignol,* for-
merly a working goldsmith, who had distinguished himself on the 20th of
June and the 10th of August, and who was chief of one of the Orleans bat-
talions, was among the new officers favoured by the Cordelier ministry.
Drinking, one day, in company with some of Westermann's soldiers, he
said that the men ought not to be the slaves of the officers, that Biron was a
ci-devant, a traitor, and that the citizens ought to be driven out of their
houses to make room for the troops. Westermann ordered him to be arrested,
and gave him up to the military tribunals. Ronsin immediately claimed him,
and lost no time in transmitting to Paris a denunciation against Westermann.
Westermann, giving himself no concern about the matter, marched with
his legion for the purpose of penetrating into the very heart of La Vendee.
Starting from the side opposite to the Loire, that is to say, from the south of
the theatre of the war, he first took possession of Parthenai, then en:
Amaillou, and set fire to the latter village, by way of reprisal towards M. de
Lescure. The latter, on entering Parthenai, had exercised severities against
the inhabitants, who were accused of revolutionary sentiments. Westermann
ordered all the inhabitants of Amaillou to be collected, and sent them to those of
Parthenai, as an indemnification ; he then burned the chateau of Clisson, be-
longing to Lescure,t and everywhere struck terror by his rapid march, and the
* " Rossignol, a journeyman goldsmith at Paris, a man of naturally violent passions
which were increased by want of education, was one of the heroes of the Bastille, and one
of the actors in the September massacres. In 1793 he was made lieutenant-colonel of a re-
giment of gendarmerie, and employed against the Vendeans, but Biron ordered him to be
imprisoned at Niort for extortion and atrocity. He was soon afterwards released, but for-
warded the war of La Vendee but little, being seldom victorious, and revenging himself for
his want of success by carrying fire and sword wherever he went. Having obtained the
chief command of the army of the coasts of Brest, he became more cruel than ever, and
issued a proclamation that he would pay ten livres for every pair of ears of Vcndenns that
were brought him. Rossignol gloried in his barbarity, and one day at a supper at Saumur,
said, ' Look at this arm ; it has despatched sixty-three Carmelite priests at Paris.' Having
escaped the scaffold, with which he was several times threatened, he was transported in 1800,
and being carriod to one of the islands of the Indian Archipelago, died there in the year
1803." — Bioffrapkie Modcrne. E.
j- " General Westermann entered Parthenay with about ten thousand men. From thence
he went to Amaillou, and set fire to the village. This was the beginning of the republican
burnings. Westermann then marched on Clisson ; he knew that it was the chateau of M.
de Lescure, and, imagining that he must there find a numerous garrison, and experience an
obstinate resistance, he advanced with all his men, and not without great precautions, to
attack this chief of the brigands. He arrived at nine o'clock at night. Some concealed
peasants fired a few shots from the wood and garden, which frightened the republicans very
much; but they seized some women, and learned that there was nobody at Clisson. Wes-
termann then entered, and wrote from thence a triumphant letter to the Convention, which
was published in the newspapers, sending the will and the picture of M. de Lescure, and
relating that, after having crossed many ravines, ditches, and covered ways, he had at last
reached the den of that monster ' vomited from hell,' and was going to set fire to it. In fact,
he had straw and faggots brought into the rooms, the garrets, the stables, and the farm, and
took all his measures that nothing should escape the fire. The furniture was consumed, im-
mense quantities of corn and hay were not spared ; — it was the same everywhere. After-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 245
exaggerated reports of his military executions. Westermann was not cruel,'
but he began those disastrous reprisals which rained the neutral districts,
accused by each party of having favoured its adversaries. All had fled to
Chatillon, and there the families of the Vendean chiefs, and the wrecks of
their armies, had assembled. On the third of July, Westermann, fearlessly
venturing into the very heart of the insurgent country, entered Chatillon, and
expelled from it the superior council and the staff, which sat there as in their
capital. The report of this bold exploit spread far and wide ; but Wester-
mann's position was precarious. The Vendean chiefs had fallen back, rung
the tocsin, collected a considerable army, and were preparing to surprise
Westermann from a side where he least expected it. In a mill, out of Cha-
tillon, he had placed a post which commanded all the environs. The Ven-
deans, advancing by stealth, according to their usual tactics, surrounded this
post, and attacked it on all sides. Westermann, apprized rather late of the
circumstance, instantly sent detachments to its support, but they were re-
pulsed, and returned to Chatillon. Alarm then seized the republican army;
it abandoned Chatillon in disorder; and Westermann himself, after perform-
ing prodigies of valour, was obliged to make a precipitate retreat, leaving
behind him a great number of dead or prisoners. This check caused a de-
gree of discouragement equal to that of the presumption and hope which
the temerity and success of the expedition had excited.
During these occurrences at Chatillon, Biron had agreed upon a plan with
Canclaux.t They were both to descend to Nantes, to sweep the left bank
of the Loire, then turn towards Machecoul, unite with Boulard, who was to
set out from Sables, and, after having thus separated the Vendeans from the
sea, to march towards Upper Vendee, for the purpose of reducing the whole
country. The representatives disapproved of this plan; they pretended that
he ought to start from the very point where he was to penetrate into the
country, and march, in consequence, upon the bridges of Ce, with the troops
collected at Angers ; and that a column shoidd be ordered to advance from
Niort to support him on the opposite side. Biron, finding his plans thwart-
ed, resigned the command. At this very moment news arrived of the defeat
at Chatillon, and the whole was imputed to Biron. He was reproached with
having suffered Nantes to be besieged, and with not having seconded West-
ermann. 0*n the denunciation of Ronsin and his agents, he was summoned
to the bar;;}: Westermann was put upon his trial, and Rossignol immediately
wards, the republican armies burnt even provisions, though the rest of France was sufferinfr
from famine." — Memoirs of the Marchioness de Larockejaquelein. E.
• i. Westermann delighted in carnage. M. Beauchamp says that he would throw off hi:=
coat, tuck up his sleeves, and then, with his sabre, rush into tho crowd, and hew about him
to the right and left! He boasted that he had himself destroyed the last of the Vendeans —
that chiefs, officers, soldiers, priests, and nobles, had all perished by the sword, the fire, or
water. But when his own fate was decided, then his eyes wore purged ; from the moment
that he apprehended death, his dreams were of the horrors which he had perpetrated ; lu-
fancied himself beset by the spirits of the murdered, and his hell began on earth !" — Quar-
terly Review. E.
j- " From principle and feeling Canclaux was a royalist. Rigid in his own conduct ami
indulgent towards others, unaffectedly pious, and singularly amiable in all the NsbJmm of
life, he was beloved by all who knew him, and by all who were under his command. He
entered the army, having, as Puisaye believes, the example of Monk in his mind. He w»n
employed to fight against the truest friends of the monarchy ; he was surrounded by spies
and executioners: ami this man, made by his education, his principles, und the habits .it' a
long life, to set an example to his fellows of the practice of every virtue — ended in becoming
the deplorable instrument of every crime!" — Quarterly Review. B,
- 4 " Biron was accused at the bar of the Convention, and the arrest of Rossignol was one
x2
246 HISTORY OF THE
liberated. Such was thf fate of the generals of La Vendee amidst the Jaco-
bin agents.
General Labaroliere took the command of the troops which Biron had left
at Angers, and prepared, agreeably to the wishes of the representative-
advance into the country by the bridges' of Ce. After having left fourteen
hundred men at Saumiir, and fifteen hundred at the bridges of Ce, he pro-
ceeded to Brissae, where he placed a post to secure his communication*.
This undisciplined army committed the most frightful devastations* in a
country devoted to the republic. On the 15th of July it was attacked in the
camp of Fline by twenty thousand Vendeans. The advanced guard, com-
posed of regular troops, made a resolute resistance. The main body, how-
ever, was on the point of yielding, when the Vendeans, more prompt at
running away, retired in disorder. The new battalions then showed some-
what more ardour, and, in order to encourage them, those praises were be-
stowed on them which had been deserved by the advanced guard alone. On
the 17th, the army advanced nearly to Vihiers, and a new attack, recc
and supported with the same vigour by the advanced guard, and with the
same hesitation by the main body, was anew repulsed. In the course of the
day the army arrived at Vihiers. Several generals, thinking that the Orleans
battalions were too ill-organized to keep the field, and that it would be im-
possible to remain in the country with such an army, were of opinion that
they ought to retire. Labaroliere decided on waiting at Vihiers, and defend-
ing himself in case he should be attacked. On the 18th, at one in the after-
noon, the Vendeans made their appearance. The republican advanced guard
behaved with the same valour as before; but the rest of the army wavered at
sight of the enemy, and fell back in spite of the efforts of the generals. The
battalions of Paris,t much more ready to raise the outcry of treason than to
fight, retired in disorder. The confusion became general. Santerre, who
had thrown himself most courageously into the thick of the fray, narrowly
escaped being taken. Bourbotte,f the representative, was in the like dan-
ger ; and the army fled in such haste, that, in a few hours, it was at Sau-
raur. The division of Niort, which was about to march, remained where it
was : and, on the 20th, it was decided that it should wait for the reorgani-
sation of tlie column at Saumur. As it was necessary that some one should
be made responsible for the defeat, Ronsin and his agents denounced Ber-
of his crimes. An ex-noble could expect no mercy, an J he was delivered over to the revolu-
tionary tribunal. His words upon the scaffold were, ' I have been false to my God, my oi
and my king — I die full of faith and repentance.'" — Quarterly lirriew. E.
• " The land was utterly laid waste, and nothing left in some parts of this perfidious a
try but heaps of dead bodies, of ruins, and of ashes — the frightful monuments of national v
geance !" — Turreuu. E.
'• One might almost say that the Vendeans were no longer human beings in the i
republicans; the pregnant women — the paralytic of fourscore — the infant in the cradle —
even thi' bents, the houses, the .--tores, the very soil, appeared to them so many enemies
worthy of total extermination. I do not doubt that if the republicans had possessed the power.
they would have launched (he thunder against this unhappy country, and reduced it to a
chaos)" — Berthre <k Bnurniteaux. E. •
j " The battalions raised in Paris displayed great courage in this war. but, unfortunately,
these intrepid revolutionists had a most unbridled appetite for pillage. It micht have been
said that they iv.mc less for the sake of fighting than of plundering; the rich man *•»
always in their eyes an aristocrat, whom they mi^ht strip without ceremony ; so that the
Paris carriers returned laden with booty, the fruit of their robberies." — Heauchamp. B,
t "The representative Hourbuttc was one of those stern Jacobins who, when condemned
to death under the Directory, stabbed themselves at the bar, and handed the bloody ki
to another." — Quarterly Review. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 247
thier, the chief of the staff, and General Menou, both of whom were re-
puted to be aristocrats, because they recommended discipline. Berthier and
Menou* were immediately summoned to Paris, as Birou and Wester maun
had been.
Such, up to this period, was the state of the war in La Vendee. The
Vendeans, rising on a sudden in April and May, had taken Thenars, l.ou-
dun, Dime, and Samnur, in consequence of the bad quality of the troops
composed of the new recruits. Descending to Nantes in June, they had
been repulsed from that city by Canclaux, and from Les Sables by Boulard,
two generals who had found means to introduce order and discipline among
their troops. Westermann, aeting witli boldness and with a body of good
troops, had penetrated to Chitillon in the beginning of June ; but, betrayed
by the inhabitants, and surprised by the insurgents, he had sustained a de-
feat; and, lastly, the column of Tours, in attempting to advance into the
country with the Orleans battalions, had met with the fate that usually be-
falls disorganized armies. At the end of July, therefore, the Vendeans were
masters of the whole extent of their territory. As for the brave and unfortu-
nate Biron, accused of not being at Nantes while he was inspecting Lower
Vendee, and of not being with Westermann, while he was arranging a plan
with Canclaux, thwarted, interrupted, in all his operations, he had been re-
moved from his army before he had time to act, and had only joined it to be
continually accused. Canclaux remained at Nantes ; but the brave Boulard
no longer commanded at Les Sables, and the two battalions of the Gironde
had just retired. Such is the picture of La Vendee in July : all the columns
in the upper country were routed ; the ministerial agents denounced the ge-
nerals reputed to be aristocrats ; and the generals complained of the disor-
ganizes sent by the ministry and the Jacobins.
In the East and the North, the sieges of Mayence and Valenciennes made
alarming progress.
Mayence, seated on the left bank of the Rhine, on the French side, and
opposite to the mouth of the Mayn, forms a large arc of a circle, of which
the Rhine may be considered as the cord. A considerable suburb, that of
Cassel, on the other bank, communicates with the fortress by abridge of
boats. The island of Petersau, situated below Mayence, stretches upward,
and its point advances high enough to batter the bridge of boats, and to take
the defences of the place in the rear. On the side next to the river, Mayence
is protected only by a brick wall, but, on the land side it is very strongly
* " Baron J. de Menou, deputy from the nobility of the bailiwick of Touraine to the States-
general, was one of the first members of that order who joined the chamber of the titrx-itat.
In 1790 he was president of the Assembly, and proved himself the open enemy of the clergy,
and was one of the commissioners appointed to dispose of their property. In 1798 lie was
employed in the Vendean war, anil appointed commander-in-chief; but, being once or twice
defeated, his command was taken from him. In 1795 lie defended the National Convention
against the Jacobins, for which he was rewarded by the gift of a complete suit of armour,
and the post of commander-in-chief of the army of the interior. In 1798 Menou, as general
of a division, accompanied Bonaparte to Egypt, where he displayed great valour and ability.
He there embraced Mahometanism, took the turban, assumed the name of Alnlallah, attended
the mosques, ami married a rich young Egyptian woman, daughter to the keeper of the
baths at Alexandria. When Napoleon left, Menou remained with Kleber, after whose as-
ion he took the command of the army of the East When General Abtrcrotaby
landed before Alexandria, Menou marched to attack him, but was repulsed with greet loss.
Shortly afier his return to France, he was sent to Piedmont to direct the administration there.
. be bad the title of grand officer of the Legion of Honour conferred on him, and in
1805 was again confirmed in the general government of Piedmont." — lli>>gr(ij>hie Mo-
dcrne. E.
248 HISTORY OF THE
fortified. On the left bank, beginning opposite to the point of Petersau, it is
defended by an enclosure and a ditch, into which runs the rivulet of Zahl-
bach, in its way to the Rhine. At the extremity of this ditch, a fort, that of
Hauptstein, commands the whole length of the ditch, and adds the protection
of its fire to that afforded by the water. From this point, the enclosure con-
tinues till it rejoins the upper channel of the Rhine; but the ditcli ceases, and
in its stead there is a second enclosure parallel with the first. Thus, in this
part, two lines of wall require a double siege. The citadel, connected with
this double enclosure, serves to increase its strength.
Such was Mayence in 1793, even before its fortifications had been im-
proved. The garrison amounted to twenty thousand men, because General
Schaal, who was to have retired with a division, had been driven back into
the place, and was thus prevented from joining the army of Oustine. The
provisions were not adequate to this garrison. In the uncertainty whether
Mayence should be kept or not, but little pains had been taken to lay in sup-
plies. Custine had at length ordered the place to be provisioned. The Jews
had come forward, but they wanted to drive a winning bargain. They in-
sisted on being paid for all convoys intercepted on the way by the enemy.
Rewlen and Merlin refused these terms, apprehensive lest the Jews misdit
themselves cause the convoys to be captured. There was no want of corn,
however ; but if the mills, situated on the river, should chance to be destroyed,
it would be impossible to get it ground. Of butcher's meat there was but a
small quantity, and the forage in particular was absolutely insufficient for the
three thousand horses of the garrison. The artillery consisted of one hun-
dred and thirty pieces of brass, and sixty of iron, which had been found there
and were very bad; the French had brought eighty in good condition. Thus
the ramparts were lined by a considerable number of guns, but there was
not a sufficient supply of powder. The skilful and heroic Meunier, who
had executed the works at Cherbourg, was directed to defend Cassel and the
posts on the right bank ; Doyre superintended the works in the body of the
place ; Aubert-Dubayet and Kleber* commanded the troops; and Merlin and
Rewbel, the representatives, animated the garrison by their presence. This
garrison was encamped in the interval between the two enclosures, and occu-
pied in the distance very advanced posts. It was animated by the best spirit,
had great confidence in the place, in its commanders, and in its own strength ;
and, besides this, it was determined to defend a point of the utmost import-
ance to the welfare of France.
General Schonfeld, encamped on the right bank, hemmed in Cassel with
ten thousand Hessians. The united Austrians and Prussians made the prin-
cipal attack on Mayence. The Austrians occupied the right of the besieging
force. Facing the double enclosure, the Prussians formed the centre of
Marienberg. There were the head-quarters of the King of Prussia. The
left, likewise composed of Prussians, was encamped facing Hauptstein and
the ditch filled by the water of the Zahlbaeh rivulet. The besieging a
was composed of nearly fifty thousand men, under the direction of old Kal-
kreuth. Brunswick commanded the corps of observation towards the \ <>s-
ges, where he concerted with Wurmser for the protection of this important
operation. The allies were yet unprovided with heavy artillery fit for a
" " Kleber, who was a sincere republican, and a cool, reflecting man. was. what mitrht be
called, a grumbler by nature, yet he never evinced discontent in the discharge of his duties as
a soldier. He swore and stormed, but marched bravely to the cannon's mouth. He was in-
deed courage personified." — Bourricnnc. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 2 9
siege; they were in treaty with the states of Holland, which again emptied
part of their arsenals to assist the progress of their most formidable neigh-
bours.
The investment commenced in April. Till the convoys of artillery could
arrive, the offensive belonged to the garrison, which was continually making
the most vigorous sorties. On the 11th of April, a few days after the invest-
ment, our generals resolved to attempt a surprise against the ten thousand
Hessians, who had extended themselves too much on the right bank. In the
night of the 11th, they sallied from Cassel in three columns. Meunier
marched straight forward upon Hochheim ; the two other columns descended
the right bank towards Hiberich: but a musket-shot fired unawares in Gene
ral Schaal's column produced confusion. The troops, still quite raw, had
not that steadiness which they soon acquire under their generals. It was
necessary to retire, and Kleber, with his column, protected the retreat in the
most effective manner. By this sortie, the besieged gained forty oxen and
cows, which were killed and salted.
On the 16th, the enemy's generals attempted to take the post of Weisse-
nau, which, situated close to the Rhine, and on the right of their attack, con-
siderably annoyed them. Though the village was burned, the French in-
trenched themselves in a cemetery. Merlin, the representative, placed him-
self there with them, and by prodigies of valour they preserved the post.
On the 26th, the Prussians despatched a flag of truce, the bearer of which
was directed to say falsely, that he was sent by the general of the army of
the Rhine to persuade the garrison to surrender. The generals, the repre-
sentatives, the soldiers, already attached to the place, and convinced that
they were rendering an important service by detaining the army of the Rhine
on the frontier, would not listen to the proposition. On the 3d of May, the
King of Prussia attempted to take a post on the right bank opposite to Cas-
sel— that of Kostheim. It was defended by Meunier. The attack, made on
the 3d with great obstinacy, and repeated on the 8th, was repulsed with con-
siderable loss to the besiegers. Meunier, on his part, attempted an attack
on the islands situated at the mouth of the Mayn, took them, lost them
again, and displayed on every occasion the greatest daring.
On the 30th of May, the French resolved on a general sortie on Marien-
burg, the head-quarters of King Frederick William. Under favour of the
night, six thousand men penetrated through the enemy's lines, took their in-
trenchments, and pushed on to the head-quarters. Meanwhile the alarm that
was raised brought the whole army upon them ; and they renirned alter
losing many of their brave fellows. The King of Prussia, nettled at this
surprise, caused the next day a brisk fire to be kept up on the place. The
same day Meunier made a new attempt on one of the islands in the Mayn.
Wounded in the knee, he expired, in consequence not so much of the wound,
as of the irritation which he felt at being obliged to abandon the operations
of the siege. The whole garrison attended his funeral ; the King of Prussia
ordered the firing to be suspended while the last honours were paid to this
hero, and a salute of artillery to be discharged for him. The body was de-
posited at the point of the bastion of Cassel, which had been constructed
under his direction.
The great convoys had arrived from Holland. It was high time to com-
mence the operations of the siege. A Prussian officer proposed t<> take the
island of Petersau, the point of which runs up between CaMel and Mayenee,
to erect batteries there, to destrov the bridge of boats n\u\ the mills, and to
make an assault on Cassel, which would then be cut off from the fortress,
vol. ii. — 32
250 HISTORY OF THE
and could not receive succour from it. He then proposed that the assailants
should advance towards the ditch into which the Zahlbach ran, throw them-
selves into it under the protection of the batteries of Petersau, which would
enfilade this ditch, and attempt an assault on that front which was formed of
only a single enclosure. The plan was bold and perilous, for it would be
necessary to land on Petersau, and afterwards to plunge into the water of the
ditch under the fire of the Hanptstein; but then the results must be i
speedy. It was thought better to open the trenches facing the double enclo-
sure and opposite to the citadel, though that course would entail the neces-
sity for a double siege.
On the 16th of June, a first parallel was traced at the distance of eight
hundred paces from the first enclosure. The besieged threw the works into
disorder, and the enemy was forced to fall back. On the 18th, another pa-
rallel was traced at a much greater distance, namely, fifteen hundn
and this distance excited the sneers of those who had proposed the bold at-
tack by the isle of Petersau. From the 24th to the 25th, closer approa
were made ; the besiegers established themselves at the distance of eight
hundred paces, and erected batteries. The besieged again interrupted the
works and spiked the guns ; but they were at length repulsed and over-
whelmed with an incessant fire. On the 18th and l'Jth, two hundred pieces
played upon the fortress, and covered it with projectiles of every kind.
Floating batteries, placed upon the Rhine, set fire to the interior of the town
on the most exposed side, and did considerable damage.
Still the first parallel was not yet opened, the first enclosure was not yet
won, and the garrison, full of ardour, had no thoughts of surrendering. In
order to rid themselves of the floating batteries, some of the brave French
swam off", and cut the cables of the enemy's boats. One was seen swim-
ming and towing a boat containing twenty-four soldiers who were made
prisoners.
But the distress was at its height. The mills had been burned, and the
besieged had been obliged to resort to mills wrought by men for the purpose
of grinding their corn. But nobody would work at them, because the ene-
my, apprized of the circumstance, kept up a continual fire of howitzers
ihe spot where they were situated. Moreover, there was scarcely any corn
left. Horse-flesh had long been the only meat that the garrison had ; the
diers ate rats, and went to the banks of the Rhine to pick up the dead horses
which the current brought down with it. This kind of food proved fatal to
several of them: it was found necessary to forbid it, and even to prevent
their seeking it, by placing guards on the banks of the river. A cat sold for
six francs, and horse-flesh at the rate of forty-five sous per pound. The
officers fared no better than the soldiers, and Albert Dubavet, having invited
his staff to dinner, set before it, by way of a treat, a cat flanked by a dozen
mice.
But the most annoying circumstance to this unfortunate garrison was the
absolute privation of all news. The communications were so completely in-
tercepted that for three mouths it was wholly ignorant of what was passim,
in France. It had endeavoured to convey intelligence of its d one
time by a ladv who was going to travel in Switzerland, at another by a priest
proceeding to the Netherlands, and at another by a spy who was to p
through the enemy's OSmp. Hut none of these despatches had reached tl
destination. Hoping thai the idea might perhaps occur of sending inl
gence from the Upper Rhine by means of bottles thrown into the river, the
besiegers placed nets across it. These wore taken up every day, but no-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 251
thing arrived. The Prussians, who had practised all sorts of stratagems, had
got false Moniteur* printed at Frankfort, stating that Dumouj over-
thrown the Convention, and that Louis XVII. was reigning with a r< gency.
The Prussians placed at the advanced posts transmitted these false Mom;.
to the soldiers of the garrison. The reading of these statements always
cited the greatest uneasiness, and to the sufferings which they were already
enduring added the mortification of defending perhaps a ruined cause. Never-
theless, they waited, saying to one another: "The army of the Rhine will
soon arrive." Sometimes the cry was, "It is come!" One night, a very
brisk cannonade was heard at a great distance from the town. The men
started up with joy, ran to arms, and prepared to march towards the French
cannon, ami to place the enemy between two fires. Vain hope! The noise
ceased, and the army that was to deliver them never appeared. At length
the distress became so intolerable, that two thousand of the inhabitants soli-
cited permission to depart. Albert Dubayet granted it; but not being re-
ceived by the besiegers, they remained between two tires, and partly perished
under the walls of the place. In the morning the soldiers were seen bring-
ing in wounded infants wrapped in their cloaks.
Meanwhile the army of the Rhine and of the Moselle was not advancing.
Custine had commanded it till the month of June. Still quite dispirited on
account of Ins retreat, he had never ceased wavering during the months of
April and May. He said that he was not strong enough; that he must have
more cavalry to enable him to cope with the enemy's cavalry in the plains
of the Palatinate ; that he had no forage for his horses ; that it was neces-
sary for him to wait till the rye was orward enough to be cut for fodder;
anil that then lie would march to the relief of Mayence.* Beauharnais,t his
successor, hesitating like him, lost the opportunity of saving that fortress.
The line of the Vosges runs, as every one knows, along the Rhine, and ter-
minates not far from Mayence. By occupying the two slopes of the chain
and its principal passes, you gain an immense advantage, because you have
it in your power to direct your force either all on one side or all on the other,
and to overwhelm the enemy by your united masses. Such was the posi-
tion of the French. The army of the Rhine occupied the eastern slope, and
that of the Moselle the western ; Brunswick and Wurmser were spread out
at the termination of the chain into a very extensive cordon. Masters of the
passes, the two French armies had it in their power to unite on one slope or
the other, to crush Brunswick or Wurmser, to take the besiegers in the rear,
and to save Mayence. Beauharnais, a brave but not an enterprising man,
made onlv indecisive movements, without succouring the garrison.
The representatives and the generals shut up in Mayence, thinking that
matters ought not to be pushed to extremity, that, if they waited another
week, they might be destitute of everything and be obliged to give up the
garrison as prisoners ; that, on the contrary, by capitulating they should
Cus tine's Trial.
-J- " Viscount Alexander Beaubarnaia, bom in 1760, at Martinique, served with distinction
as Major in the French forces under Rochatnbeau, which aided the United States in the
revolutionary war. He married Josephine Tascher de la Pagerfe, who was afterward*
the wife of Bonaparte. At the breaking out of the French revolution, he was chosen a
member of the National Assembly, of which he was for some time president. In 1793 he
general of the army of the Rhine, and was afterwards minister of war. In consequi
of the decree removing men of noble birth from the army, he retired to his coonti j sent.
Having been falsely accused of promoting the surrender of M< ntz. be was sentenced to death
in 1794, in the thirty-fourth year of his age." — Encyclopaedia Americana. S,
252 HISTORY OF THE
obtain free egress with the honours of war, and that they should thus preserve
twenty thousand men, who had become the bravest soldiers in the world
under Kleber and Dubayet, determined to surrender the place. In a few
days more, it is true, Beauharnais might have been able to save them, but,
after waiting so long, it was natural to conclude that they should not he re-
lieved, and the reasons for surrendering were decisive. The King of Prussia
was not difficult about the conditions. He allowed the garrison to march
out with arms and baggage, and imposed but one condition, that it should
not serve for a year against the allies. But there were still enemies enouirh
in the interior for the useful employment of these admirable soldiers, since
called Mayengais. So attached were they to their posts, that they would
not obey their generals when they were obliged to evacuate the fortress — a
singular instance of the esprit de corps which settles upon one point, and of
that attachment which men form for a place which they have defended for
several months ! The garrison, however, yielded, and as it filed off, the
King of Prussia, filled with admiration of its valour, called by their names
the officers who had distinguished themselves during the siege, and compli-
mented them with chivalrous courtesy. The evacuation took place on the
25th of July.
We have seen the Austrians blockading Conde\ and laying regular siege
to Valenciennes. These operations carried on simultaneously with those of
the Rhine, were drawing near to a close. The Prince of Coburg, at the
head of the corps of observation, faced Caesar's Camp; the Duke of York
commanded the besieging corps. The attack, at first projected upon the cita-
del, was afterwards directed between the suburb of Marly and the Mons
gate. This front presented much more development, but it was not so strongly
defended, and was preferred as being more accessible. It was agreed to hat-
ter the works during the day, and to set fire to the town in the night, in order
to increase the distress of the inhabitants, and to shake their resolution the
sooner. The place was summoned on the 14th of June. General Ferrand,
and Cochon* and Briest,t the representatives, replied with great dignity.
They had collected a garrison of seven thousand men ; they had infused the
best spirit into the inhabitants, and organized part of them into compa
of gunners, who rendered the greatest services.
Two parallels were successively opened in the nights of the 14th and 19th
of June, and armed with formidable batteries. They made frightful h:
in the place. The inhabitants and the garrison defended themselves with a
vigour equal to that of the attack, and several times destroyed all the \\
of the besiegers. The enemy fired upon the place till noon, withoul
making any reply ; but at that hour a tremendous fire from the rampart-; wis
poured into the trenches, where it produced the confusion, terror, and death
• " Cochon de Lapparcnt, a counsellor at Fontenay, was, in 1789, a member of ih>
general. In 1792 he was deputed to the National Convention, where lie voted for the King's
death. In the same year he was chosen commissary to the army of the North. He was at
Valenciennes when that town was besieged, contributed to its defence, and long opposed
any capitulation. In 1794 he entered into the committee of public safety, and in the follow-
ing year was again sent on a mission. In 1796 the Directory appointed him to the adminis-
tration of the police. In 1800 he was appointed prefect of Vienna, and decorated in 1804
with the cross of the Legion of Honour." — Biographic Moderne. E.
f " Briest, deputy to the Convention, voted there for the death of Louis. Being at Va-
lenciennes during the siege, he behaved with great courage. After the fall of Robespierre,
Briest was despatched for the second time to the army of the North, but soon fell a victim to
its excesses." — Biographic Modcrnc. E.
Mi
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
which had prevailed in the town. On the 28th of Juno, a third parallel was
traced, and the courage of the inhabitants began to be shaken. Part of that
wealthy city was already burned down. The children, the old men, and the
women had been put into cellars. The surrender of Conde, whieh had
been taken by famine, tended still more to dishearten the besieged. Emis-
saries had been sent to work upon them. Assemblages began to form and
demand a capitulation. The municipality participated in the dispositions of
the inhabitants, and was in secret understanding with them. The repre-
sentatives and General Ferrand replied with the greatest vigour to the de-
mands which were addressed to them ; and, with the aid of the garrison,
whose courage was excited to the highest enthusiasm, they dispersed the
discontented assemblages.
On the 25th of July the besiegers prepared their mines, and made ready
for the assault of the covered way. Luckily for them, three globes of com-
pression burst at the moment when the mines of the garrison were about to
play and to destroy their works. They then pushed on in three columns,
cleared the palisade, and penetrated into the covered way. The garrison re-
tired in affright, and was already abandoning its batteries, but General Fer-
rand led it back to the ramparts. The artillery, which had performed pro-
digies during the whole siege, again made great havoc among the assailants,
and stopped them almost at the very gates of the place. Next day, the 26th,
the Duke of York summoned General Ferrand to surrender. He gave him
notice that after that day he would listen to no proposal, and that the garrison
and the inhabitants should be put to the sword. At this threat the people
assembled in great numbers ; a mob, among which were many men armed
with pistols and daggers, surrounded the municipality. Twelve persons
spoke for the whole, and made a formal requisition to surrender the place.
A council of war was held amidst the tumult ; none of its members was
allowed to quit it, and guards were placed upon them till they should decide
upon surrender. Two breaches, the unfavourable disposition of the inhabit-
ants, and a vigorous besieger, admitted of no longer resistance. The place
was surrendered on the 28th of July.* The garrison marched out with the
honours of war, was obliged to lay down its arms, but was at liberty to re-
turn to France, upon the only condition of not serving for a year against the
allies. It still consisted of sev en thousand brave soldiers, capable of render-
ing important services against the enemies in the interior. Valenciennes
had sustained a bombardment of forty-one days, during which eighty thou-
sand cannon-balls, twenty thousand howitzer-shot, and forty-eight thousand
bombs, had been thrown into it. The general and the garrison had done
their duty, and the artillery had covered itself with glory.
At this same moment, the war of federalism was reduced to its two real
calamities : the revolt of Lyons on the one hand, and that of Marseilles and
Toulon on the other.
Lyons soon consented to acknowledge the Convention, but refused to obey
two decrees, that which transferred to Paris the proceedings commenced
against the patriots, and that which dissolved the authorities, and enjoined
the formation of a new provisional municipality. The aristocrats concealed
in Lyons excited alarm in that city lest the old Mountaineer municipality
* " Had the Duke of York been detached by Coburg against the camp of Cesar with half
his forces, the siege of Valenciennes might have been continued with the other half, and the
fate of France sealed in that position." — Dumouricz's Memoirs.
" In the darkest days of Louis XIV. France was never placed in such peril, as after the
capture of Valenciennes." — Alison. E.
Y
254 HISTORY OF THE
should be re-established ; and, by the apprehension of uncertain dan|
led it into real dangers, those of open rebellion. On the 15th of July, the
Lyonnese caused the two patriots, Chalier and Picard, to be put to death,
and from that day they were declared to be in a state of rebellion. The two
Girondins, Chasset and Biroteau, seeing royalism triumphant, withdraw.
Meanwhile the president of the popular commission, who was devoted to
the emigrants, having been superseded, the determinations had become some-
what less hostile. The people of Lyons acknowledged the constitution, and
offered to submit to it, but still on condition that the two principal decrees
should not be executed. During this interval, the chiefs were founding can-
non and purchasing stores; and there seemed to be no other way of terminat-
ing the difficulties than that of arms.
Marseilles was much more formidable. Its battalions, driven beyond the
Durance by Cartaux, could not oppose a long resistance, but it had commu-
nicated its rebellious spirit to Toulon, hitherto a thorough republican city.
That port, one of the best in the world, and the very best in the Mediterra-
nean, was coveted by the English, who were cruising off it. Emissaries of
England were secretly intriguing there, and preparing an infamous treason.
The sections had assembled on the 13th of July, and, proceeding like all
those of the South, had displaced the municipality and shut up the Jacobin
club. The authority, transferred to the hands of the federalists, was liable to
pass successively from faction to faction, to the emigrants and to the English.
The army of Nice, in its weak state, was unable to prevent such a misfortune.
Everything, therefore, was to be feared ; and that vast storm, spread
the southern horizon, had concentrated itself on two points, Lyons and
Toulon.
During the last two months, therefore, the aspect of things had somewhat
cleared up, but if the danger was less universal, less astounding, it was more
settled, more serious. In the West was the cankering sore of La Vendee ;
at Marseilles, an obstinate sedition ; at Toulon, a secret treason ; at Lyons.
an open resistance and a siege. On the Rhine and in the North, then
the loss of two bulwarks, which had so long checked the progress of the
allies and prevented them from marching upon the capital. In September,
1792, when the Prussians were marching towards Paris, and had taken
Longwy and Verdun; in April, 1793, after the retreat from Belgium, the
defeat at Neerwinden, the defection of Dumouriez, and the first rising in La
Vendee ; at the 31st of May, 1793, after the general insurrection of the de-
partments, the invasion of Roussillon by the Spaniards, and the loss of the
camp of Famars — at these three epochs, the dangers had been alarming, it
is true, but never perhaps so real as at this fourth epoch, in August, 1793.
It was the fourth and last crisis of the Revolution. France was less ignorant
and less new to war than in September, 1792, less affrighted by treai
than in April, 1793, less embarrassed by insurrections than after the 31st of
May and the 2d of June; but if she was more inured to war and better
obeyed, she was invaded on all sides at once, in the North, on the Rhine.
at the Alps, and at the Pyrenees.
But we shall not be aware of all the calamities Which then afflicted the re-
public, if we limit our view to the five or six fields of battle which were
drenched with human blood. The interior presented a spectacle quite as
deplorable. Corn was still dear and scarce. People had to kr ;>ck at the
doors of the bakers to obtain a small quantity of bread. They disputed in
vain with the shopkeepers to make them take assignats in pay mi * for arti-
cles of primary necessity. The distress was at its height. Tl prnulace
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 255
complained of the forestallers who kept back their iioods ; of stockjobbeis
who occasioned the rise in the prices of them, and threw discredit on the as-
siiruats by their traffic. Government, quite as unfortunate as the people,
had no paeans of existence but the assignats, which it was obliged to give in
thrice and lour times the quantity in payment for the same services, and of
which it durst not make any further issues for fear of depreciating them still
more. It became, therefore, a puzzling question how to enable either the
people or the government to subsist.
The general production, however, had not diminished. Though the night of
the 4th of August had not yet produced its immense effects, France was in
no want either of grain or of raw or wrought materials ; but the equal and
peaceable distribution of them had become impossible, owing to the effect of
the paper money. The Revolution which, in abolishing monarchy, never-
theless proposed to pay its debts ; which, in destroying the venality of
slices, nevertheless engaged to make compensation for their value; which,
lastly, in defending the new order of things against coalesced Europe, was
obliged to bear the expense of a general war, had, to defray it, the national
property taken from the clergy and the emigrants. To put into circulation
the value of that property, it had devised assignats which were die repre-
sentation of it, and which by means of purchasers were to return to the
exchequer and be burned. But as people felt doubtful of the Revolution
and the stability of the sales, they did not purchase those possessions. The
assignats remained in circulation like an unaccepted bill of exchange, and
became depreciated from doubt and the quantity issued.
Specie continued to be regarded as the real standard of value ; and nothing
is more hurtful to a doubtful money than the rivalry of a money of which
the value is undisputed. The one is hoarded and kept back from circula-
tion, while the other offers itself in abundance, and is thus discredited.
Such was the predicament in which assignats stood in regard to specie. The
Revolution, doomed to violent measures, was no longer able to stop. It had
put into forced circulation the anticipated value of the national domains ; it
could not help trying to keep it up by forced means. On the 1 1th of April,
in spite of the Girondins, who struggled generously but imprudently against
the fatality of that revolutionary situation, the Convention decreed the
penalty of six years' imprisonment against any person who should sell
specie, that is to say, who should exchange a certain quantity of gold or
silver for a more considerable quantity of assignats. It enacted the same
punishment for every one who should stipulate a different price for com-
modities according as the payment was to be made in specie or in
assignats.
These measures did not prevent the difference from being rapidly mani-
fested. In June a metal franc was worth three francs in assignats ; and in
August, two months afterwards, a silver franc was worth six francs in
_inats. The ratio of diminution, which was as one to three, had therefore
increased in the proportion of one to six.
In this situation, the shopkeepers refused to sell their goods at the former
price, because the money offered to them was not worth more than a fifth or a
sixth of its nominal value. They held them back, therefore, and refused
them to purchasers. This depreciation of value, it is true, would have been
in regard to the assignats no inconvenience whatever, had everybody, taking
them only at their real value, received and paid them away at the same rate.
In this case, they might still have continued to perform the office of a sign
in the exchange?, and to serve for a circulating mediuv l 1 ke any other
256 HISTORY OF THE
money; but the capitalists who lived upon their income, the creditors
of the state who received an annuity or a compensation for an office, were
obliged to take the paper at its nominal value. All debtors were eager to
pay off their incumbrances, and creditors, forced to take a fictitious value,
got back but a fourth, a fifth, or a sixth of their capital.* Lastly, the work-
ing people, always obliged to offer their services and to give them to any
one who will accept them, not knowing how to act in concert, in order to
obtain a twofold or a threefold increase of wages in proportion to the depre-
ciated value of the assignats, were paid only part of what was necessary to
obtain in exchange such things as they needed. The capitalist, half ruined,
was silent and discontented ; but the enraged populace called those trades-
men who would not sell at the old prices, forestallers, and loudly demanded
that forestallers should be sent to the guillotine.
All this .resulted from the assignats, as the assignats had resulted from the
necessity of paying old debts, making compensation for offices, and defray-
ing the expenses of a ruinous war : in like manner the maximum was
destined to result from the assignats. It was, in fact, to little purpose that a
forced circulation had been given to this money, if the tradesman, by raising
his prices, could evade the necessity of taking it. Let a forced rate then be
fixed for commodities as well as for money. The moment the law said,
Such a piece of paper shall be worth six francs — it ought also to say, Such
a commodity shall be sold for no more than six francs — otherwise the
dealer, by raising the price to twelve, would escape the exchange.
It had therefore been absolutely necessary, in spite of the Girondins, who
had given excellent reasons deduced from the ordinary economy of tilings,
to fix a maximum for grain. The greatest hardship for the lower classes,
is the want of bread. The crops were not deficient, but the farmers, who
would not confront the tumult of the markets, or sell their corn at the rate
of the assignats, kept away with their goods. The little corn that did
appear was quickly bought up by the communes and by individuals, induced
by fear to lay in stocks of provisions. The dearth was more severely felt
in Paris than in any town in France, because the supply of that immense
city was more difficult, because its markets were more tumultuous, and the
farmers were more afraid to attend them. On the 3d and 4th of May, the
Convention could not help passing a decree, by which all farmers and corn-
dealers were obliged to declare the quantity of corn in their possession, to
thresh out what was still in the ear, to carry it to the markets and to the
markets only, to sell it at the mean price fixed by each commune, according
to the price which had prevailed between the 1st of January and the l-t
of May. No person was allowed to lay in a supply for more than a month ;
those who sold or bought at a price above the maximum, or who made false
declarations, were to be punished with confiscation and a fine of three
hundred to one thousand francs. Domiciliary visits were ordered to ascertain
the truth. Lastly, a statement of all the declarations was to be sent by the
municipalities to the minister of the interior, in order to furnish a general
statistical survey of the supplies of France. The commune of P^ris,
adding its police resolutions to the decrees of the Convention, had moraorw
regulated the distribution of bread at the bakers' shops. No 006 was
allowed to go to them without safety-tickets. On these tickets, delivered
• "Debtors of every description hastened to discharge their obligations : and the credit-
ors, compelled to accept paper at par, which was not worth a fifth, or a tenth, and at last,
not a hundredth of its nominal value, were defrauded of the greater part of their property."—
Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 257
by the revolutionary committees, was specified the quantity of broad which
the hearers had a right to ask for, and this quantity was proportionate to the
number of persons of which each family was composed. Even the mode
of getting served at the bakers' shops was regulated. A cord Mas to be
iasii'iied to their door; each customer was to lay hold of it, so as not to lose
his turn, and to avoid confusion. Malicious women frequently cut this
cord; a frightful tumult ensued, and the armed force was required to restore
order. We liere see to what drudgery, most laborious to itself and vexa-
tious to those for whom it legislates, a government is doomed, as soon as it
is obliged to see every tiling in order to regulate everything. But in this
situation each circumstance was the result of another. The forced currency
of assignats led to the forcing of sales, the forcing of prices, forcing even
of the quantity, the hour, the mode of purchases; the last fact resulted
from the first, and the first had been inevitable, like the Revolution
itself.
•Meanwhile, the rise in the price of articles of consumption, which had led
to the maximum, was general for all commodities of the first necessity.
Butchers' meat, vegetables, fruit, groceries, candles, fuel, liquors, articles of
clothing, and shoe-leather, had all risen in price in proportion as assignats
had fallen; and the populace were daily more and more bent on finding
forestallers, where there were only dealers who refused a money that had
lost its value. It will be recollected that in February it had plundered the
grocers' shops, at the instigation of Marat. In July it had plundered boats
laden with soap coming up the Seine to Paris. The indignant commune had
passed the most severe resolutions, and Pache had printed this simple and
laconic warning :
" Pache, Mayor, to his Fellow-Citizens.
M Paris contains seven hundred thousand inhabitants ; the soil of Paris
produces nothing for their food, their clothing, their subsistence ; it is there-
fore necessary for Paris to obtain everything from the departments and from
abroad.
" When provisions and merchandise come to Paris, if the inhabitants rob
the owners of them, supplies will cease to be sent.
** Paris will then have no food, no clothing, nothing for the subsistence of
its numerous inhabitants.
" And seven hundred thousand persons, destitute of everything, will de-
vour one another."
The people had not committed any further depredations, but they still
demanded severe measures against the dealers ; and we have seen the priest
Jacques Roux exciting the Cordeliers, with the view to obtain the insertion
of an article against forestallers in the Constitution. They also inveighed
bitterly against the stock-jobbers, who, they said, raised the prices of goods
by speculating in assignats, gold, silver, and foreign paper.
The popular imagination created monsters, and everywhere discovered
inveterate enemies, where there were only eager gamblers, profiting by the
evil, but not producing it, and most certainly not having the power to pro-
duce it. The depreciation of the assignats had a great number of causes ;
their considerable quantity ; the uncertainty of their pledge, which would
be swept away, if the Revolution were to fall ; their comparison with spe-
cie, which did not lose its reality, and with commodities which, retaining
their value, refused to exchange themselves for a money that had lost its
value. In this state of things, the capitalists would not keep their funds in
he form of assignats, because under that form they were wasting from day
vol. ii. — 33 T 2
258 HISTORY OF THE
to day. At first they had endeavoured to procure money ; but six years of
annoyance had scared the sellers and the buyers of specie. They had then
thought of purchasing commodities, but these offered only a temporary em-
ployment of capital, because they would not keep long, and a dangerous
employment, because the rage against forestalled was at its height. They
sought, therefore, securities in foreign countries.* All those who had a-
nats were eager to buy bills of exchange on London, Amsterdam, Hamburg,
Geneva, or on any place in Europe. To obtain these foreign values, they
gave enormous national values, and thus lowered the assignats by parting
with them. Some of these bills of exchange were realized out of France,
and the amount of them paid over to emigrants. Splendid furniture, the
spoils of ancient luxury, consisting of cabinet-maker's work, clocks, mir-
rors, gilt bronzes, porcelain, paintings, valuable editions of books, paid for
these bills of exchange, which were turned into guineas or ducats. Hut it
was only the smallest portion of them that the holders endeavoured to
realize. Sought after by the alarmed capitalists, who had no intention *to
emigrate but merely wished to give a solid guarantee to their fortune, they
remained almost all on the spot, where the alarmed transferred them from
one to another. There is reason to believe that Pitt had induced the English
bankers to sign a great quantity of this paper, and had even opened for them
a considerable credit, for the purpose of increasing the mass, and contri-
buting still more to the discredit of the assignats.
Great eagerness was also shown to obtain shares in the stocks of the finan-
cial companies, which seemed to be beyond the reach of the Revolution
and of the counter-revolution, and to offer moreover an advantageous em-
ployment of capital. Those of the Compagnie (V Escompte were in high
favour; but those of the East India Company were sought after with th •
greatest avidity, because they rested in some measure on a pledge that could
not be laid hold of, consisting in ships and storehouses situated all over the
globe. To no purpose they had been subjected to a heavy transfer duty. The
directors had evaded the law by abolishing the actions, and making them
consist in an entry in the registers of the Company, which took place with-
out any formality. They thus defrauded the state of a considerable r
nue, for there were several thousand transfers per day, and they frustrated
the precautions taken to prevent stockjobbing. To no purpose had a duty
of five per cent, been imposed on the produce of these shares, in order to
lessen their attraction. The dividends were paid to the shareholders, as a
compensation for part of their capital ; and by this stratagem the directors
again evaded the law. Thus shares of 600 francs rose to 1000, 1200, and
even 2000 francs. These were so many values opposed to the revolutionarv
money, and which served to discredit it still more.
Not only were all these kinds of funds opposed to the assignats, but also
certain parts of the public debt, and certain assignats themselves. There
existed, in fact, loans subscribed for at all periods, and under all forms.
There were some that dated so far back as the reign of Louis XIII. Amonjr
the later ones subscribed for under Louis XIV., there were stocks of
different creations. Those which were anterior to the constitutional mo
* "Terrified at the continual recurrence of disorders, the capitalists declined inventing
their money in purchases of any sort; and the shares in foreign mercantile companies rose-
rapidly from the increased demand for them, as the only investments affording a tolerable de-
gree of security — a striking proof of the consequences of the disorders attendant on popular
ambition, and their tendency to turn from the people the reservoirs by which their industry
is maintained." — Alison. E.
-
FRENCH REVOLUTION'. 259
narchy were preferred to such as had been opened for the wants of the
Revolution. All, in short, were opposed to the airigmta founded on t!i"
spoliation of the clergy and of the emigrants. Lastly, differ
made between the assignats themselves. Out of about five thousand mil-
lions which had been issued since their creation, one thousand millions had
been returned bv the sale of national possessions ; nearly four thousand mil-
lions remained in circulation, and, in these four thousand millions, there
were about five hundred millions issued under Louis XVI., and bearing the
royal effigy. These latter, it was argued, would be better treated in c
a counter-revolution, and admitted for at least part of their value. Thus they
were worth 10 or 15 per cent, more than the others. The republican assig-
nats, the only resource of the government, the only money of the people,
were, therefore, wholly discredited, and had to contend at one and the same
time with specie, merchandise, foreign paper, the shares in financial compa-
nies, the different stocks of the state, and, lasdy, the royal assignats.
The compensation made for offices, the payment for the large supplies
furnished to the state for the war department, the eagerness of many debt-
ors to pay oil' their liabilities, had produced a great accumulation of capital
in certain hands. The war, and the fear of a terrible revolution, had inter-
rupted many commercial operations, and further increased the mass of stag-
nant capitals that were seeking securities. These capitals, thus accumulated,
were employed in perpetual speculations at the Stock Exchange in Paris,
and were converted alternately into gold, silver, merchandise, bills of ex-
change, companies' shares, old government stocks, &c. Thither resorted,
as usual, those adventurous gamblers who plunge into every kind of hazard,
who speculate on the accidents of commerce, the supply of armies, the good
faith of governments. Placing, themselves on the watch at the Exchange,
they made a profit by all the rises occasioned by the constant fall of the assig-
nats1. The fall of the assignat first began at the Exchange, with reference
to specie and to all moveable values. It took place Afterwards with refer-
ence to commodities, which rose in price in the shops and in the markets.
Commodities, however, did not rise so rapidly as specie, because the markets
are at a distance from the Exchange, because they are not so easily affected,
and, moreover, because the dealers cannot give the word so rapidly to one
another as stockjobbers assembled in one and the same building. The dif-
ference, pronounced at the Exchange, was not felt in other places till after a
longer or shorter time : thus, when the five-franc assignat was worth no
more than two francs at the Exchange, it was passing for three in the mar-
kets, and the stockjobbers had sufficient time for speculating. Having their
capitals quite ready, they procured specie before the rise ; as soon as it had
risen in comparison with assignats, they exchanged it for the latter ; they
had of course a greater quantity, and, as merchandise had not yet had time
to rise too, with this greater quantity of assignats they bought a greater
quantity of merchandise, and sold it again when the balance between them
was restored. Their part had consisted in holding cash or merchandise
while one or the other rose in reference to the assignat. It was therefore
the constant profit of the rise of everything in comparison with the assignat
which they had made, and it was natural that they should be grudged this
profit, invariably founded on a public calamity. Their speculations extended
to the variation of all kinds of securities, such as foreign paper, companies'
shares, &c. They profited by all the accidents that could produce these
fluctuations — a defeat, a motion, a false report. They formed a very nonai
derable cla«j9. Among them were included foreign bankers, contractors,
260 HISTORY OF THE
usurers, ancient priests or nobles, revolutionary upstarts, and certain depu-
ties, who, to the honour of the Convention, were but five or six, and who
possessed the perfidious advantage of contributing to the fluctuation of secu-
rities by seasonable motions. They led a dissolute life with actresses, and
ci-devant nuns, or countesses, who, after performing the part of mistresses,
sometimes took up that of women of business.* The two principal deputies
engaged in these intrigues were Julien of Toulouse, who lived with the
Countess of Beaufort, and Delaunay of Angers, who was intimate with
Descoings, the actress. It is asserted that Chabot, dissolute as an ex-Capu-
chin, and occasionally turning his attention to financial questions, was
engaged in this kind of stockjobbing, in company with two brothers, named
Frey, expelled from Moravia for their revolutionary opinions, and who had
come to Paris to carry on the banking business there. Fabre d'Eglantine
also dabbled in it, and Danton was accused, but without any proof, of having
had a hand in it too.
The most shameful intrigue was that which connected Baron de Batz, an
able banker and financier, with Julien of Toulouse, and Delaunay of An-
gers, two men most intent on making money. Their scheme was to charge
the East India Company with malversations, to reduce the price of its shares,
to buy them up immediately, and then to raise them by means of milder mo-
tions, and thus to make a profit by the rise. D'Espagnac, that dissolute
abbe, who had been commissary to Dumouriez in Belgium, and had since
obtained the general contract for carts and wagons, and whose interests Ju-
lien patronized in the Convention, was, out of gratitude, to furnish the
funds for this speculation, into which Julien proposed to draw Fabre,
Chabot, and others, who were likely to be useful as members of various
committees.
Most of these men were attached to the Revolution, and had no intention
to do it disservice; but, at any rate, they were desirous of securing pleasures
and wealth. All their secret artifices were not known ; but, as they specu-
lated on the discredit of the assignats, the evil by which they profited was
imputed to them. As they comprised in their ranks many foreign bankers,
they were said to be agents of Pitt and of the coalition ; and here, too,
people fancied that they discovered that mysterious and so much dreaded
influence of the English minister. In short, they were equally incensed
against the stockjobbers and the forestallers, and called out for the same
punishment against both.
Thus, while the North, the Rhine, the South, were assailed by our ene-
mies, our financial means consisted in a money that was not accepted, the
pledge of which was uncertain as the Revolution, and which, on every acci-
dent, sunk in a ratio proportionate to the danger. Such was this singular
situation : as the danger increased and the means ought to have increased
along with it, they on the contrary diminished; supplies were beyond the
reach of the government, and necessaries beyond that of the people. It
was requisite, therefore, at one and the same time, to create soldiers, arms,
and a currency for the state and for the people, and, after all this, to secure
victories.
* "The Bourse was crowded with adventurers of every description, who sometimes made
enormous gains, and passed a life of debauchery with abandoned women of all aorta. Such
was the universal dissoluteness of manners, arising from the dread of popular jealousy, that
almost all the members of the Convention lived publicly with mistresses, who became pos-
sessed of much of the influence in the state." — Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 261
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
ANNIVERSARY OF THE TENTH OF AUGUST, AND FESTIVAL FOR THE
ACCEPTANCE OF THE CONSTITUTION— EXTRAORDINARY DECREES
—GENERAL ARREST OF SUSPECTED PERSONS— LEVY EN MASSE—
INSTITUTION OF THE GREAT BOOK— FORCED LOAN— MAXIMUM-
DECREES AGAINST LA VENDEE.
The deputies sent by the primary assemblies to accelerate the anniversary
ef the 10th of August, and to accept the constitution in the name of all France,
had by this time arrived at Paris. It was determined to seize this occasion
for exciting a movement of enthusiasm, reconciling the provinces with the
capital, and calling forth heroic resolutions. A brilliant reception was pre-
pared. Considerable stores of articles of consumption were amassed, that
no dearth might disturb this festival, and that the deputies might enjoy at
once the spectacle of peace, abundance, and order. So far was attention
to them carried, that all the administrations of the public conveyances were
ordered to give them places, even though they had been already bespoken
by other travellers. The administration of the department, which rivalled
that of the commune in the austerity of its language and its proclamations,
made an address to its brefhren of the primary assemblies. " Here," it said
to them, "men covered with the mask of patriotism will talk to you with
enthusiasm about liberty, equality, and the republic one and indivisible,
while, in the bottom of their hearts, they aspire and labour only to re-esta-
blish royalty, and to tear their country in pieces. Those are the rich ; and
the rich have at all times abhorred virtue and poisoned morals. There you
will find perverse women, too seductive by their charms, who will join with
them to lead you into vice Beware ! above all, beware of that ct-
dtvant Palais Royal. It is in that garden that you will meet with those
perfidious persons. That famous garden, the cradle of the Revolution,
once the asylum of the friends of liberty and equality, is at this day, in spite
of our active vigilance, but the filthy drain of society, the haunt of villains,
the den of all the conspirators Shun that impoisoned spot ; prefer
to the dangerous spectacle of luxury and debauchery the useful pictures of
laborious virtue; visit tbe fauxbourgs, the founders of our liberty; enter the
workshops where men, active, simple, and virtuous, like yourselves, like
you, ready to defend the country, have long been waiting to unite themselves
to you by the bonds of fraternity. Come, above all, to our popular so-
cieties. Let us unite ! let us arm ourselves with fresh courage to meet the
new dangers of the country ! let us swear, for the last time, death and de-
struction to tyrants !"
The first step was to take them to the Jacobins, who gave them the warm-
welcome, and offered them their hall to meet in. The drputics accepted
this offer, and it was agreed that they should deliberate in the very bosom
of the society, and mingle with it during their stay. Thus all the difference
262 HISTORY OF THE
was, that there were now four hundred more Jacobins in Paris. The so-
ciety, which sat every second day, resolved to meet every day, for the pur-
pose of conferring with the envoys of the departments on measures of public
welfare. It was said that some of these envoys leant to the side of indul-
gence, and that they were commissioned to demand a general amnesty on
the day of the acceptance of the constitution. Some persons had, in fact,
thought of this expedient for saving the imprisoned Girondins and all others
who were detained for political causes. But the Jacobins would not hear
of any composition, and demanded at once energy and vengeance. The
envoys of the primary assemblies, says Hassenfratz, were slandered by a
report that they meant to propose an amnesty; they were incapable of such
a thing, and were ready to unite with the Jacobins in demanding not only
urgent measures of public welfare, but also the punishment of all traitors.
The envoys took the hint, and, if some few of them really thought of an am-
nesty, none of them ventured to propose it.
On the morning of the 7th of August they were conducted to the com-
mune, and from the commune to the Eveche, where the club of the electors
was held, and where the 31st of May was prepared. It was there that the
reconciliation of the departments with Paris was to take place, since it was
thence that the attack upon the national representation had proceeded. Pache,
the mayor, Chaumette, the procureur, and the whole municipality, walking
before them, ushered them into the Eveche. Speeches were made on both
sides : the Parisians declared that they never meant either to violate or to
usurp the rights of the departments ; the envoys acknowledged, in their turn,
that Paris had been calumniated ; they then embraced one another, and
abandoned themselves to the warmest enthusiasm. All at once they be-
thought them to repair to the Convention, to communicate to it the recon-
ciliation which had just been effected. Accordingly they repaired thither,
and were immediately introduced. The discussion was suspended. One
of the envoys addressed the Assembly. " Citizens representatives," said
he, "we are come to acquaint you with the affecting scene which has just
occurred in the hall of the electors, whither we went to give the kiss of
peace to our brethren of Paris. Soon, we hope, the heads of the calumni-
ators of this republican- city will fall beneath the sword of the law. We are
all Mountaineers. The Mountain for ever !" Another begged the repre-
sentatives to give the envoys the fraternal embrace. The members of the
Assembly immediately left their places, and threw themselves into the arms
of the envoys of the departments. A scene of emotion and enthusiasm en*
sued. The envoys then tiled off through the hall, shouting " The Mountain
for ever ! the republic for ever !" and singing,
La Montagne nous a sauves
En congcdiant Censonne ,
La Montagne nous a sauves
En congcdiant Censonne ;
Au diable les Buzot,
1 .rs Vorgniaud, les Drissot !
Dansons la Carmagnole.*
They then proceeded to the Jacobins, where they prepared in the name
• " Carmagnole was the name applied in the early period of the Revolution to a certain
dance and the song connected with it It was afterwards given to the French soldiers who
first engaged in the cause of republicanism, and who wore a dress of a peculiar cut." — Scott's
Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 263
of all the envoys of the primary assemblies, an address, assuring the depart-
ments that Paris had been calumniated. "Brethren and friends," they
wrote, " calm your uneasiness. We have all here but one sentiment. All
our souls are blended together, and triumphant liberty looks around on none
but Jacobins, brethren and friends. The Marais no longer exists. \\ C
form here but one enormous and terrible Mountain, which will soon pour
forth its lire upon all the royalists and the partisans of tyranny. Perish the
infamous libellers who have calumniated Paris ? . . . . We are all watching
here, night and day, and labouring in concert with our brethren of the capi-
tal for the public welfare We shall not return to our homes till we
proclaim to you that France is free, and that the country is saved." This
address was read, enthusiastically applauded, and sent to the Convention to
be inserted forthwith in the minutes of the sitting. The excitement became
general. A multitude of speakers rushed to the tribune of the club ; many
imaginations began to be intoxicated. Robespierre, perceiving this agitation,
immediately begged leave to speak. Every one cheerfully gave way to him.
Jacobins, envoys, all applauded the celebrated orator, whom some of them
had not yet either seen or heard.
He congratulated the departments, which had just saved France. " They
saved it," said he, " the first time in 89, by arming themselves spontaneously ;
a second time, by repairing to Paris to execute the 10th of August; a third
time, by coming to exhibit in the heart of the capital a spectacle of union
and general reconciliation. At this moment untoward events have afflicted
the republic and endangered its existence ; but republicans ought never to
be afraid, and it is their duty to beware of an emotion which might lead
them to excesses. It is the design of some at this moment to create a facti-
tious dearth, and to produce a tumult; they would urge the people to attack
the Arsenal, to disperse the stores there, and to set it on fire, as has been
done in many other towns ; lastly, they have not yet renounced the intention
of causing another event in the prisons, for the purpose of calumniating
Paris, and breaking the union which has just been sworn. Beware of all
these snares," added Robespierre; "be calm, be firm; look the calamities
of the country in the face without fear, and let us all labour to save it !"
These words restored calmness to the Assembly, and it broke up, after
greeting the sagacious speaker with reiterated plaudits.
During the following days Paris was not disturbed by any commotion ;
but nothing was omitted to work upon the imagination, and to dispose it to
a generous enthusiasm. No danger was concealed ; no unfavourable intelli-
gence was kept secret from the people. The public was informed succes-
sively of the discomfitures in La Vendee, of the daily more and more alarm-
ing occurrences at Toulon, of the retrograde movement of the army of the
Rhine, which was falling back before the conquerors of Mayence, and
lastly, of the extremely perilous situation of the army of the North, which
had retired to Caesar's Camp, and which the Imperialists, the English and
the Dutch, masters of Conde and Valenciennes, and forming a double
mass, might capture by a coup-de-main. The distance between Cocsar's
Camp and Paris was at most but forty leagues, and there was not a reoiment,
not an obstacle, to impede the progress of the enemy. The army of the
North broken down, all would be lost, and the slightest rumour from that
frontier was caught up with anxiety.
These apprehensions were well founded. At this moment Caesar's Camp
was actually in the greatest danger. On the evening of the 7th of August,
264 HISTORY OF THE
the allies having arrived before it, threatened it on all sides. A line of heights
extends between Cambrai and Bouchain. The Scheldt protects by running
along them. This is what,is called Caesar's Camp, supported upon two
fortresses and bordered by a stream of water. On the evening of the 7th,
the Duke of York, being charged to turn the French, debouched in front of
Cambrai, which formed the right of Caesar's ('amp. He summoned the
place. The commandant replied by closing the gates and burning the
suburbs. The same evening, Coburg, with ■ mass of forty thousand men,
arrived in two columns on the banks of the Scheldt, and bivouarki <1 firing
our camp. An intense heat paralyzed the strength of men and h<>
Several soldiers, struck by the sun's rays, died in the course of the dav.
Kilmaine, appointed to succeed Custine, but who would only accept the
command ad interim, deemed it impossible to maintain his ground in
perilous a position. Threatened on his right to be turned by the link
York, having scarcely thirty-five thousand disheartened men to oppose to
seventy thousand elated with victory, he conceived it most prudent to think
of retreating, and to gain time by going in quest of another position. The
line of the Scarpe, situated behind that of the Scheldt, appeared to him a
good one to occupy. Between Arras and Douai, height! bordered by the
Scarpe, form a camp similar to Caesar's Camp, and like that, it is supported
by two fortresses and protected by a stream of water. Kilmaine prepared
to retreat on the morning of the following day. His main body was to c
the Cense, a small river, bordering the rear of the ground which he occupied,
and he himself was to proceed with a strong rear-guard towards the right,
where the Duke of York was on the point o? debouching.
Accordingly, next morning, the 8th, at daybreak, the heavy artillery an 1
the baggage of the infantry moved off, crossed the Cense, and destroyed all
the bridges. An hour afterwards, Kilmaine, with some batteries of light
artillery and a strong division of cavalry, proceeded towards the right, to
protect the retreat against the English. He could not have arrived more
opportunely. Two battalions, having lost their way, had strayed to the
little village of Marquion, and were making an obstinate resistance against
the English. In spite of their efforts, they were on the point of being over-
whelmed. Kilmaine, on his arrival, immediately placed his light artillery
on the enemy's flank, pushed forward his cavalry upon him, and forced him
to retire. The battalions, being1 then extricated, were enabled to rejoin the
rest of the army. At this moment the English and the Imperialists, de-
bouching at the same time on the right and on the front of Gesar*i Camp,
found it completely evacuated. At length towards the close of day. the
French were re-assembled in the camp of Gavarelle, supported upon Arra*
and Douai, and having the Scarpe in front of them.
Thus, on the 8th of August. Oessar's Camp was evacuated as that of Fa-
mars had been ; and Cambrai and Bouchain were left to their own strength,
like Valenciennes and ('mule. The line of the Scarpe. running behind thai
of the Scheldt, is not of course between Paris and the Scheldt, but between
the Scheldt and the sea. Kilmaine, therefore, had inarched on one side in-
stead of falling back ; and thus part of the frontier was left uncovered.
The allies had it in their power to overrun the whole department of the
Nord. What should they do ? Should they, making another day's march,
attack the camp of Gavarelle and overwhelm the enemy who had
them? Should they march upon Paris \ or should thr\ their old
design upon Dunkirk ? Meanwhile they pushed on parties to Peronne and
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 265
St. Quenlin, and the alarm spread to Paris,* where it was reported with dis-
may that Caesar's Camp was lost, like that of Famars ; that Cambrai was
abandoned like Valenciennes. People inveighed everywhere against Kil-
maine, unmindful of the important service that he had rendered by his mas-
terly retreat.
The preparations for the solemn festival of the 10th of August, destined
to electrify all minds, were made amidst sinister rumours. On the 0th,
the report on the result of the votes was presented to the Convention. The
forty-four thousand municipalities had accepted the constitution. In the num-
ber of the votes none were missing but those of Marseilles, Corsica, and La
Vendee. A single commune, that of St. Tonnant, in the department of the
CAtes-du-Nord, had dared to demand the re-establishment of the Bourbons
on the throne.
On the 10th, the festival commenced with the dawn. David, the cele-
brated painter,t had been appointed to superintend the arrangements. At four
in the morning, the persons who were to compose the procession assembled
in the Place de la Bastille. The Convention, the envoys of the primary
assemblies, the eighty-six oldest of whom had been selected to represent the
eighty-six departments, the popular societies, and all the armed sections,
were ranged around a large fountain called the Fountain of Regeneration. It
was formed by a large statue of Nature, who poured forth the water from
her breasts into a spacious basin. As soon as the sun had gilded the tops of
the buildings, he was saluted by some stanzas which were sung to the tune
of the Marseillaise. The president of the Convention took a goblet, poured
some of the water of regeneration on the ground, then drank of it, and hand-
ed the goblet to the seniors of the departments, each of whom drank in his
turn. After this ceremony, the procession moved along the boulevards. The
popular societies, bearing a banner on which was painted the eye of vigil-
ance, advanced first. Next came the whole of the Convention. Each of its
members held a bunch of ears of corn, and eight of them, in the centre, bore
upon an ark the constitutional act and die rights of man. The senior envoys
• u The allies, in great force, were now grouped within one hundred and sixty miles of
Paris ; fifteen days' march would have brought them to its gates. A camp was formed be-
tween Peronne and St. Quentin, and the light troops pushed on to Peronne and Bapaume,
Irresolution prevailed in the French army, dismay in the French capital, everywhere the re-
publican authorities were taking to flight ; the Austrian generals, encouraged by such extra-
ordinary success, were at length urgent to advance and improve their successes before the
enemy recovered from their consternation ; and if they had been permitted to do so, what in-
calculable disasters would Europe have been spared ! Everything promised success to vigor-
ous operations ; but the allies were paralyzed by intestine divisions. The Prussians were
chiefly to blame for this torpor." — Alison. E.
-j- " The fine arts, which David studied, had not produced on his mind the softening and
humanizing effect ascribed to them. Frightfully ugly in his exterior, his mind seemed to
correspond with the harshness of his looks. ' Let us grind enough of the red,' was the pro-
fessional phrase of which he made use, when sitting down to the bloody work of the day.
He held a seat in the committee of public security. David is allowed to have possessed great
merit as a draughtsman. Foreigners, however, do not admire his composition and colouring
so much as his country men." — ScoWb Life of Napoleon. E.
" While in Paris, in the year 1815, Sir Walter Scott was several times entertained at din-
ners by distinguished individuals in the French capital: but the last of these dinners at which
he was present was thoroughly poisoned by a preliminary circumstance. The poet, on en-
tering ihe saloon, was introduced to a stranger, whose physiognomy struck him as the most
hideous he had ever seen ; nor was his disgust lessened when he found, a few minutes after-
wards, that he had undergone the nccoladc of David, the painter — h.in ' sf the blood-stained
brush.' " — L'ickha't's Lift of Scott. E.
vol. ii. — 34 Z
266 HISTORY OF THE
'brmed a chain round the Convention, and walked united by a tricoloured
cord. Each held in his hands an olive-branch, in token of the reconciliation
of the provinces with Paris, and a pike destined to form part of the national
fasces which were composed of the eighty-six departments. After this por-
tion of the procession, come groups of people with the implements of their
trades, and in the midst of them was a plough, upon which were an aged
couple, drawn by their young sons. This plough was immediately followed
by a war-chariot containing the urn of the soldiers who had died for their
country. The procession was closed by tumbrels laden by sceptres, crowns,
coats of arms, and tapestry sprinkled with fleurs de lis.
The procession passed along the boulevards, and pursued its way towards
the Place de la Revolution. In passing the boulevard Poissonniere, the pre-
sident of the Convention handed a laurel bough to the heroines of the 5th
and 6th of October, seated on their guns. In the Place de la Revolution he
again halted, and set fire to all the insignia of royalty and nobility, drawn
thither in the tumbrels. He then tore off a veil thrown over a statue, which,
exposed to the view of all, exhibited the features of Liberty. Salutes of
artillery marked the moment of its inauguration ; and at the same moment
thousands of birds bearing light flags were let loose, and seemed, while
darting into the air, to proclaim that the earth was set free.
They then proceeded to the Champ de Mars by the Place des Invalides,
and filed past a colossal figure representing the French people, which had
struck down federalism, and was stifling it in the mud of a marsh. At length,
the procession arrived at the field of the Federation. There it divided into
two columns, which walked round the altar of the country. The president
of the Convention and the eighty-six elders occupied the summit of the altar ;
the members of the Convention, and the mass of the envoys of the primary
assemblies, covered the steps. Each group of the people came in turn and
deposited on the altar the produce of its trade, stuffs, fruit, articles of every
kind. The president then collected the papers on which the primary assem-
blies had inscribed their votes, and laid them on the altar of the country. A
general discharge of artillery was instantly made, an immense concourse of
people mingled their shouts with the sound of the cannon, and the oath to
defend the constitution was sworn with the same enthusiasm as on the 14th
of July, 1790 and 1792 — a vain oath, if we consider the letter of the con-
stitution, but highly heroic and admirably kept, if we consider only the soil
and the Revolution itself. The constitutions, in fact, passed away, but
the soil and the Revolution were defended with heroic firmness.
After this ceremony, each of the eighty-six elders handed his pike to the
president, who made a bundle of them, and delivered it, together with the
constitutional act, to the deputies of the primary assemblies, exhorting them
to rally all their forces around the ark of the new covenant. The company
then separated ; one part of the procession accompanied the cinerary urn of
the French who had fallen for their country to a temple prepared for its r<
tion ; another went to deposit the ark of the constitution in a place where
it was to remain till the following day, when it was to be owned to the hall
of the Convention. A large representation of the liege and bombardment of
Lille and the heroic resistance of its inhabitants occupied the rest of the day,
and disposed the imagination of the people to warliki
Such was the third federation of republican France. We do not there
behold, as in 1790, all the classes of a srreat nation, rich and poor, nobh
simple, mingled for a moment in one and the same intoxication, and, weary
of mutual hate, forgiving one another for a few hours their differences of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 267
rank and of opinion ; here was seen an immense people, no longer talking
of pardon but of danger, of devotion, of desperate resolutions, and feasting
itself on that gigantic pomp, till the morrow should call it away to the field
of battle. One circumstance heightened tin.- character of this scene, and
covered what contemptuous or hostile minds might deem ridiculous in it —
namely, the danger and the enthusiasm with which it was met. On the first
14th of July, 1700, the revolution was still innocent and benevolent, but it
could not be serious, and might have ended, like a ridiculous farce, in foreign
bayonets. In August, 1793, it was tragic, but grand, marked by victories
and defeats, and serious as an irrevocable and heroic resolution.
The moment for taking great measures was arrived. The most extraor-
dinary ideas were fermenting everywhere. It was proposed to exclude all
the nobles from public employments, to decree the general imprisonment of
suspected persons, against whom there existed as yet no precise law, to raise
the population en masse, to seize all articles of consumption, to remove them
to the magazines of the republic, which should itself distribute them to each
individual ; and people felt the need of some expedient for supplying imme-
diately sufficient funds, without being able to devise one. It was particularly
desired that the Convention should retain its functions, that it should not
nte up its powers to the new legislature which was to succeed it, and that
the constitution should be veiled, like the statue of the law, till the general
defeat of the enemies of the republic.
It was at the Jacobins that all these ideas were successively proposed.
Robespierre, striving no longer to repress the energy of opinion, but on the
contrary to excite it, insisted particularly on the necessity for maintaining
the National Convention in its functions ; and in this he gave a piece of ex-
cellent advice. To dissolve in a moment an assembly possessed of the entire
government, in whose bosoms dissensions were extinguished, and to replace
it by a new inexperienced assembly, which would be again torn by factions,
would have been a most disastrous project. The deputies of the provinces,
surrounding Robespierre, exclaimed that they had sworn to continue assem-
bled till the Convention had taken measures of public welfare, and they de-
clared that they would oblige it to retain its functions. Audoin, Pache's
son-in-law, then spoke, and proposed to demand the levy en masse, and the
general apprehension of suspected persons. The envoys of the primary
assemblies immediately drew up a petition, which, on the* following day,
the 12th, they presented to the Convention. They demanded that the Con-
vention should take upon itself the duty of saving the country, that no am-
nesty should be granted, that suspected persons should be apprehended, that
they should be sent oil* first to meet the enemy, and that the people raised
en masse, should march behind. Some of these suggestions were adopted.
The apprehension of suspected persons was decreed in principle ; but the
project of a levy m mas.se. which appeared too violent, was referred to the
commitiee of public welfare. The Jacobins, dissatisfied, insisted on the
proposed measure, and continued to repeat in their club, that it was not a
partial but a general movement which was needed.
In the following days, the committee made its report, and proposed too
vague I decree and proclamations much too cold. "The committee,*1 l \-
claimed Danton, " has not said everything: it has not said that, if France is
vanquished, if she is torn in pieces, the rich will be the first victims of the
rapacity of the tyrants: it has not said that the vanquished patriots will rend
and burn this republic, rather than see it pass into the hands of their insolent
conquerors ! Such is the lesson that those rich egotists must be taught!
OftQ
HISTORY OF THE
What do you hope ?" added Danton, " you who will not to do any-
thing to save the republic ? Consider what would be your lot if liberty
should fall. A regency directed by an idiot, an infant king whose minority
would be long, and lasdy, our provinces parcelled out, a frightful dismem-
berment ! Yes, ye rich, they would tax you, they would squeeze out of
you more and a thousand times more than you will have to spend to save
your country and to perpetuate liberty ! The Convention," he
continued, " has in its hands the popular thunderbolts. Let it make use of
them, let it hurl them at the heads of the tyrants. It has the envoys of the
primary assemblies, it has its own members ; let it send both to effect a ge-
neral arming."
The projels de loi were again referred to the committee. On the follow-
ing day, the Jacobins once more despatched the envoys of the primary as-
semblies to the Convention. They came to repeat the demand, not of a
partial recruiting, but of the levy en masse, because, said they, half-measures
are fatal, because it is easier to move the whole nation than part of its citi-
zens.* "If," added they, "you demand one hundred thousand soldiers,
they will not come forward ; but millions of men will respond to a general
appeal. Let there be no exemption for the citizen physically constituted
for arms, be his occupation what it may ; let agriculture alone retain the
hands that are indispensable for raising the alimentary productions from the
earth; let the course of trade be temporarily suspended, let all business cease,
let the grand, the only, the universal business of the French be to save the
republic."
The Convention could no longer withstand so pressing a summons.
Sharing itself the excitement of the petitioners, it directed its committee to
retire, and draw up instantly the projetof the levy en masse. The committee
returned in a few minutes and presented the following prqjet, which was
adopted amidst universal transport :
" Art. 1. The French people declares, by the organ of its representatives,
that it will rise one and all, for the defence of its liberty Snd of its constitu-
tion, and for the final deliverance of its territory from its enemies.
" 2. The committee of public welfare will to-morrow present the mode of
organization of this great national movement."
By other articles, eighteen representatives were appointed for the purpose
of travelling over all France, and directing the envoys of the primary assem-
blies in their requisitions of men, horses, stores, and provisions. This grand
impulse once given, everything would he possible. When it was once
clared that all France, men and things, belonged to the government, that
government, according to the danger, its own understanding, and its growing
energy, could do whatever it deemed useful and indispensable. It was not
• " The representatives of forty thousand municipalities came to accept the new constitu-
tion. Having, when admitted to the bar of the Assembly, signified the consent of the people,
they demanded the arrest of all suspected persons, and a general rising of the people. ' Very
well,' exclaimed Danton ; ' let us consent to their wish. The deputies of the primary assemblies
have begun to exercise among us the system of terror. I demand that the Convention, by a
decree, invest the commissioners of the primary assemblies with the right to make an appeal
to the people, to excite the energy of the people, and to put four hundred thousand men into
requisition. It is by the sound of our cannon that we must make our constitution known
to our enemies ! This is the time to take that great and last oath, that we will die, or anni-
late the tyrants !' The oath was immediately taken by every one of the deputies and citizens
in the hall. Soon after this, the republic had forty armies, and twelve hundred thousand
soldiers. France became, on the one hand, a camp and a workshop for the republicans: and
on the other, a prison for the disaffected."-— Mignet. E.
£
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 269
expedient, it is true, to raise the population en masse, and to interrupt pro-
doctioa and even the labours necessary for nutrition: but it was expedient
that the government should possess the power of demanding everything, save
and except that which was required by the wants of the moment.
The month of August was the epoch of the grand decrees which set nil
France in motion, all resources in activity, and which terminated to the ad-
vantage of the Revolution : its last and its most terrible crisis.
It was requisite at once to set the population afoot, to provide it with arms,
and to supply by some new financial measure the expense of this mighty
movement. It was requisite to place the paper money in proportion with
the price of articles of consumption ; it was requisite to distribute the armies
and the ircnerals in a manner suitable to each theatre of war, and lastly, to
appease the revolutionary indignation by great and terrible executions. We
shall presently see what the government did to satisfy at once these urgent
wants and those bad passions, to which it was obliged to submit because
they were inseparable from the energy which saves a people in danger.
To impose upon each locality a contingent in men was not a proceeding
adapted to the circumstances, nor was it worthy of the enthusiasm which it
was necessary to suppose the French to possess, in order to inspire them
with it. This German method of laying upon each country a tax in men,
like money, was moreover in contradiction with the principle of the levy en
masse. A general recruiting by lot was equally unsuitable. As every one
was not called, every one would then have thought how to get exempted,
and would have cursed the lot which had obliged him to serve. The levy
en masse would throw France into one universal confusion, and excite the
sneers of the moderates and of the counter-revolutionists. The committee
of public welfare, therefore, devised the expedient that was best adapted to
circumstances. This was to make the whole population disposable, to di-
vide it into generations, and to send off those generations in the order of age,
as they were wanted. The decree of August the 23d ran thus : " From this
moment till that when the enemy shall be driven from the territory of the
French republic, all the French shall be in permanent requisition for the ser-
vice of the armies. The young men shall go forth to fight; the married men
shall forge the arms and transport the supplies ; the women shall make tents,
and clothes, and attend on the hospitals ; the children shall make lint out of
rags ; the old men shall cause themselves to be carried to the public places,
to excite the courage of the warriors, to preach hatred of kings and love of
the republic."
All the young unmarried men or widowers without children, from the age
of eighteen to that of twenty-five years, were to compose the first levy, called
ihejirst requisition. They were to assemble immediately, not in the chief
towns of departments, but in those of districts, for, since the breaking out of
federalism, there was a dread of those large assemblages by departments,
which gave them a feeling of their strength and an idea of revolt. There
was also another motive for adopting this course, namely, the difficulty of
collecting in the chief towns sufficient stores of provisions and supplies for
large masses. The battalions formed in the chief towns of districts were to
commence their military exercises immediately, and to hold themselves in
readiness to set out on the very first day. The generation between twenty-
five and thirty had notice to prepare itself, and meanwhile it had to do the
duty of the interior. Lastly, the remainder, between thirty and sixty, was
disposable at the will of the representative! sent to effect this gradual levy.
Notwithstanding these dispositions, the instantaneous levy en masse of the
■ I
270 HISTORY OF THE
whole population was ordered in certain parts, where the danger was most
urgent, as La Vendee, Lyons, Toulon, the Rhine, &c.
The means employed for arming, lodging, and subsisting the levies, were
adapted to the circumstances. All the horses and beasts of burden which
were not necessary either for agriculture or manufactures were required and
placed at the disposal of the army commissaries. Muskets were to be given
to the generation that was to inarch : the fowling-pieces and pikes were re-
served for the duty of the interior. In the departments where manufactures
of arms could be established, the public places and promenades, and the
large houses comprehended in the national possessions, were to serve for the
erection of workshops. The principal establishment was placed at Paris.
The forges were to be erected in the gardens of the Luxembourg, and the
machines for boring cannon on the banks of the Seine. All the journeymen
gunsmiths were put into requisition, as were also the watch and clock-
makers, who had very little work at the moment, and who were capable of
executing certain parts in the manufacture of arms. For this manufacture
alone, thirty millions were placed at the disposal of the minister of war.
These extraordinary means were to be employed, till the quantity produced
should amount to one thousand muskets per day. This great establishment
was placed at Paris, because there, under the eyes of the government and
the Jacobins, negligence became utterly impossible, and all the prodigies of
expedition and energy were insured. Accordingly, this manufacture very
soon fulfilled its destinations.
As there was a want of saltpetre, an idea occurred to extract it from the
mould of cellars. Directions were issued to examine them all, to ascertain
whether the soil in which they were sunk contained any portion of that sub-
stance or not. In consequence every person was obliged to suffer his cellar
to be inspected and dug up, that the moidd might be lixiviated when it con-
tained saltpetre.
The houses which had become national property were destined to serve
for barracks and magazines. In order to procure supplies for these large
armed masses, various measures, not less extraordinary than the preceding,
were adopted. The Jacobins proposed that the republic should have a gene-
ral statement of the articles of consumption drawn up, that it should buy
them all, and then undertake the task of distributing them, either by giving
them to the soldiers armed for its defence, or by selling them to the other
citizens at a moderate price. This propensity to attempt to do everything,
to make amends for nature herself, when her course is not according to our
wishes, was not so blindly followed as the Jacobins would have desired.
In consequence it was ordered that the statements of the articles of consump-
tion already demanded from the municipalities should be forthwith completed
and sent to the office of the minister of the interior, in order to furnish a
general statistical view of the wants and the resources of the country ; that
all the corn should be thrashed where that had not yet been done, and that
the municipalities themselves should cause it to be thrashed where indi-
viduals refused to comply; that the farmers or proprietors of rorn should
pay the arrears of their contributions, and two-thirds of those for the year
1793, in kind ; lastly, that the farmers and managers of the national domains
should pay the rents of them in kind.*
• " This system of forced requisitions gave the government the command of a large pro-
portion of the agricultural produce of the kingdom, and it was enforced with merciless severity.
Not only grain, but horsea, carriages, and conveyances of every sort, were forcibly taken
from the cultivators. These exactions excited the most violent discontent, but no one ven-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 271
0
The execution of these extraordinary measures could not he otherwise
than extraordinary also. Limited powers, confided to local aathoritie0|
which would have been stopped every moment by resistance and l>y
remonstrances, which, moreover, feeling a greater or less degree of zeal,
would have acted with very unequal energy, would not have been adapted
either to the nature of the measures decreed or to their urgency. In this
case, therefore, the dictatorship of the commissioners of the Convention was
the only engine that could be made use of. They had been employed for
the first levy of three hundred thousand men, decreed in March, and they
had speedily and completely fulfilled their mission. Sent to the armies, they
narrowly watched the generals and their operations, sometimes thwarted
consummate commanders, but everywhere kindled zeal and imparted yreat
vigour. Shut up in fortresses, they had sustained heroic sieges in Valenci-
ennes and Mayence ; spread through the interior, they had powerfully con-
tributed to quell federalism. They were therefore, again employed in this
instance, and invested with unlimited powers for executing this requisition
of men and materiel. Having under their orders the envoys of the primary
assemblies, being authorized to direct them at pleasure, and to commit to
them a portion of their powers, they had at hand devoted men, perfectly ac-
quainted with the state of each district, and possessing no authority but what
they themselves gave them for the necessities of that extraordinary service.
Different representatives had already been sent into the interior, both to
La Vendee, and to Lyons and Grenoble, for the purpose of destroying the
relics of federalism ; eighteen more were appointed, with directions to divide
France among them, and to take, in concert with those previously in com-
mission, the needful steps for calling out the young men of the first requisi-
tion, for arming them, for supplying them with provisions, and for despatch-
ing them to the most suitable points according to the advice and demands of
the generals. They were instructed moreover, to effect the complete sub-
mission of the federalist administrations.
With these military plans it was necessary to combine financial measures,
in order to defray the expenses of the war. We have seen what was the
state of France in this respect. A public debt in disorder, composed of debts
of all sorts, of all dates, and which were opposed to the debts contracted
under the republic; discredited assignats, to which were opposed specie,
foreign paper, the shares of the financial companies, and which were no
longer available to the government for paying the public services, or the
people for purchasing the commodities which they needed — such was then
our situation. What was then to be done in such a conjuncture ? — resort to
a loan or issue assignats ? To borrow would be impossible, in the disorder
in which the public debt then was, and with the little confidence which the
engagements of the republic inspired. To issue assignats would be easy
enough; for this nothing more was required than the national printinsr-office.
But, in order to defray the most trifling expenses, it would be necessary to
issue enormous quantities of paper, that is to say, five or six times its nomi-
nal value, and this would serve to increase the great calamity of its discredit,
and to cause a fresh rise in the prices of commodities. We shall see what
the genius of necessity suggested to the men who had undertaken the salva-
tion of France.
The first and the most indispensable measure was to establish order in the
debt, and to prevent its being divided into contracts of all forms and of all
tured to give it vent ; to have expressed dissatisfaction, would have put the complainer n
imminent hazard of his life." — Alison. E.
272 HISTORY OF THE
periods, and which, by their differences of origin and nature, gave rise to a
dangerous and counter-revolutionary stockjobbing. The knowledge of these
old titles, their verification, and their classification, required a particular
study, and occasioned a frightful complication in the accounts. It was only
in Paris that every stockholder could obtain payment of his dividends, and
sometimes the division of his credit into several portions obliged him to apply to
twenty different paymasters. There was the constituted debt, the debt de-
mandable at a fixed period, the demandable debt proceeding fronfa liquida-
tion, and in this manner the exchequer was daily liable to demands, and
obliged to procure funds for the payment of sums thus falling due. M The
debt must be made uniform and republicani-ied," said Cambon, and he pro-
posed to convert all the contracts of the creditors of the state into an inscrip-
tion in a great book, which should be called the Great Hook of the Public
Debt. This inscription, and the extract from it which should be de-
livered to the creditors, were thenceforward to constitute their only titles.
To prevent any alarm for the safety of his book, a duplicate was to be depo-
sited in the archives of the treasury ; and besides, it was not in greater dan-
ger from fire or other accidents than the registers of the notaries. The
creditors were, therefore, within a certain time to transmit their titles, that
they might be inscribed and then burned. The notaries were ordered to de-
liver up all the titles deposited in their hands, and to be punished with ten
years' imprisonment, if, before they gave them up, they kept or furnished
any copies. If the creditor suffered six months to elapse without applying
to have his debt inscribed, he was to lose his interest ; if he allowed a vt ar
to pass away, he was to forfeit the principal. " In this manner," said Cam-
bon, " it will no longer be possible to distinguish the debt contracted by des-
potism from that which has been contracted since the Revolution ; and I
would defy Monseigneur le Despotisme, if he were to rise from his grave,
to recognise his old debt when it shall be blended with the new one. This
operation effected, you will see the capitalist, who wishes for a king because
he has a king for his debtor, and who is apprehensive of losing his credit if
his debtor is not re-established, wishing well to the republic which will have
become his debtor, because he will be afraid of losing his capital in
losing it."
This was not the only advantage of that institution, it had others equally
great, and it commenced the system of public credit. The capital of each
credit was converted into a perpetual annuity at the rate of five per cent.
Thus the creditor of a sum of one thousand francs was inscribed in the great
book for an annuity of fifty francs. In this manner, the old debts, some of
which bore an usurious interest, while others were liable to unjust deduc-
tions, or burdened with certain taxes, would be brought back to a uniform
and equitable interest. Then, too, the slate, changing its debt into a perpe-
tual annuity, would be.no longer liable to payments, and could not be obliged
to refund the capital, provided it paid the interest. It would find moreover
an easy and advantageous mode of acquitting itself, namely, to redeem the
annuity at once whenever it happened to fall below its value. Thus when
an annuity of fifty livres, arising from a capital of one thousand francs.
should be worth but nine hundred or eight hundred livres, the state would
gain, said Cambon, one-tenth or one-fifth of the capital by redeeming it at
once. This redemption was not yet organized by means of a fixed sinkimr-
fund, but the expedient had suggested itself, and the science of public credit
began to be formed.
Thus the inscription in the Great Book would simplify the form of tides,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 273
bind the existence of the debt to the existence of the republic, and change
the credits into a perpetual annuity, the capital of which should not be re-
payable, and the interests of which should be alike for all portions of the
inscriptions. This idea was simple and in part borrowed from the Knidish;
but it acquired great courage of execution to apply it to France, and it pos-
sessed the merit of being peculiarly seasonable at that moment. There was
something forced, to be sure, in thus chufffng the nature of the titl<
the credit^ in reducing the interest to a uniform rate, and in punishing with
forfeiture those creditors who would not submit to this conversion ; but for
a state justice is the best possible order ; and this grand and energetic
plan for giving uniformity to the debt was befitting a bold and complete
revolution, which aimed at regulating everything by the standard of the pub-
lic right.*
With this boldness Cambon's plan combined a scrupulous regard for en-
gagements made with foreigners, who had been promised repayment at fixed
periods. It provided that, as the assignats were not current out of France,
the foreign creditors should be paid in specie, and at the promised periods.
Moreover, the communes having contracted particular debts, exposing their
creditors to great inconvenience by not paying them, the state was to take
upon itself their debts, but not to seize their property till the payment of the
sums for which it should have engaged. This plan was adopted entire, and
it was as well executed as conceived. The capital of the debt thus reduced
to uniformity was converted into a mass of annuities of two hundred millions
per annum. It was deemed right, by way of compensating for the old taxes
of different kinds widi which it was burdened, to impose a general duty of
one-fifth, which reduced the amount of interest to one hundred and sixty
millions. In this manner everything was simplified and rendered perfectly
: a great source of stockjobbing was destroyed, and confidence was
restored, because a partial bankruptcy in regard to this or that kind of stock
could no longer take place, and it was not to be supposed in regard to the
whole debt.
From this moment it became more easy to have recourse to a loan. We
shall presently see in what manner that expedient was employed to support
the assignats.
The value which the Revolution disposed of, in order to defray its extra-
ordinary expenses, still consisted in national domains. This value, repre-
sented by the assignats, floated in the circulation. It was necessary to favour
sales for the purpose of bringing back the assignats, and to raise their value
by rendering them more rare. Victories were the best but not the readiest
means of promoting sales. Various expedients had been devised to make
amends for the want of them. The purchasers had, for instance, been
allowed to pay in several yearly instalments. But this measure, designed to
favour the peasants and to render them proprietors, was more likely to en-
courage sales than to bring back the assignats. In order to diminish their
circulating quantity with greater certainty, it was resolved to make the com-
pensation for offices pardy in assignats and partly in acknowledgments of
liquidation. The compensations amounting to less than three thousand
francs were to be paid in assignats, the others in acknowledgments of liqui-
• " The whole of the creditors, both royal and republican, were paid only in assignats,
which progressively fell to a fifth, a tenth, a hundreth, and at last, in 1 797, to a two hundred
and fiftieth part of their nominal value ; so that, in the space of a few years, the payment
was entirely illusory, and a national bankruptcy had, in fact, existed many years before it
was formally declared by the Directory." — Alison. E.
vol. ii. — 35
274 HISTORY OF THE
dation, which could not be divided into smaller sums than ten thousand
livres, which were not to circulate as money, were to be transferable only
like any other effects to bearer, and were to be taken in payment for national
domains. In this manner the portion of the national domains converted
into forced money would be diminished, all that would be transformed into
acknowledgments of liquidation would consist of sums not minutely divided,
transferable with difficulty, fixed in the hands of the rich, withdrawn from
circulation and from stockjobbing. #
In order to promote still more the sale of the national domains, it was
decided, in creating the Great Book, that the inscriptions of annuities in that
book should be taken for one-half the amount in payment for those posses-
sions. This facility could not fail to produce new sales and new returns of
assignats.
But all these schemes were insufficient, and the mass of paper money
was still far too considerable. The Constituent Assembly, the Legislative
Assembly^ and the Convention, had decreed the creation of five thousand
one hundred millions of assignats : four hundred and eighty-four millions
had not yet been issued, and remained in the exchequer ; consequently four
thousand six hundred and sixteen millions only had been thrown into circu-
lation. Part had come back by means of sales ; the purchasers being allowed
to pay by instalments, from twelve to fifteen millions were due upon sales
effected, and eight hundred and forty millions had been returned and burnt.
Thus the amount in circulation, in the month of August, 1793, was three
thousand seven hundred and seventy-six millions.
The first step was to take the character of money from the assignats with
the royal effigy, which were hoarded, and injured the republican assignats by
the superior confidence which they enjoyed. Though deprived of their
monetary character, they ceased not to have a value ; they were transformed
into paper payable to bearer, and they retained the faculty of being taken in
payment either of contributions or for national property, till the first of
January ensuing. After that period they were not to have any sort of value.
These assignats amounted to five hundred and fifty-eight millions. This
measure insured their withdrawal from circulation in less than four months ;
and, as it was well known that they were all in the hands of counter-revo-
lutionary speculators, the government exhibited a proof of justice in not
annulling them, and in merely obliging the holders to return them to the ex-
chequer.
It will be recollected that, in the month of May, when it was declared in
principle that there should be armies called revolutionary, it was decreed
also that a forced loan of one thousand millions should be raised from the
rich in order to defray the expenses of a war of which they, as aristocrats,
were reputed to be the authors, and to which they would not devote either
their persons or their fortunes. This loan, assessed as we shall presenUy
see, was destined according to Cambon's plan, to be employed in taking one
thousand millions of assignats out of circulation. To leave the option to the
well-disposed citizens, and to insure them some advantages, a voluntary loan
was opened ; those who came forward to fill it received an inscription of
annuity at the rate already decreed of five per cent., and thus obtained inte-
rest for their capital. This inscription was to exempt them from their con-
tribution to the forced loan, or at least from a portion of it equivalent to the
amount invested in the voluntary loan. The ill-disposed people of wealth,
who waited for the forced loan, were to receive a tide bearing no interest,
and which was, like the inscription of annuity, but a republican title with a
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 275
deduction of five per cent. Lastly, as it had been settled that the inscrip-
tions should be taken for half the amount in payment for national property,
those who contributed to the voluntary loan, receiving an inscription of
annuity, had the faculty of reimbursing themselves in national property : on
the contrary, the certificates of the forced loan were not to he taken till two
years niter the peace in payment for purchased domains. It was requisite,
so said the projet, to interest the rich in the speedy conclusion of the war,
and in the pacification of Europe.
By means of the forced voluntary loan, one thousand millions of assignats
were to be returned to the exchequer. These were destined to be burned.
There would be returned by the contributions which yet remained to be
paid seven hundred millions, five hundred and fifty-eight millions of which
were in royal assignats, already deprived of their monetary value, and no
longer possessing the faculty of paying for the taxes. It was certain, there-
fore, that, iit two or three months, in the first place the thousand millions
from the loan, and in the next, seven hundred millions in contributions, would
be withdrawn from circulation. The floating sum of three thousand seven
hundred and seventy-six millions would thus be reduced to two thousand
and seventy-six millions. It was to be presumed that the faculty of
changing the inscriptions of the debt into national property would lead to
new purchases, and that in this way five or six hundred millions might be
returned. The amount then would be further reduced to fifteen or sixteen
hundred millions. Thus for the moment, by reducing the floatipg mass
more than one-half, the assignats would be restored to their value ; and the
four hundred and eighty-four millions in the exchequer might be employed
to advantage. The seven hundred millions returned by taxes, five hundred
and fifty-eight of which were to receive the republican effigy and to be
thrown into circulation again, would thus recover their value, and might be
employed in the following year. The assignats would thus be raised for
the moment, and that was the essential point. If the republic should be
successful and save itself, victory would completely establish their value,
allow new issues to be made, and the remainder of the national domains to
be realized — a remainder that was still considerable, and that was daily in-
creasing by emigration.
The manner in which this forced loan was to be executed was in its
nature prompt and necessarily arbitrary. How is it possible to estimate
property without error, without injustice, even in periods of tranquillity,
taking the necessary time, and consulting all probabilities ? Now, that
which is not possible even with the most propitious circumstances, could
still less be hoped for in a time of violence and hurry. But when the go-
vernment was compelled to injure so many families, to strike so many indi-
viduals, could it care much about a mistake in regard to fortune or any little
inaccuracy in the assessment ? It therefore instituted, for the forced loan as
for the requisitions, a sort of dictatorship, and assigned it to the communes.
Every person was obliged .to give in a statement of his income. In every
commune the general council appointed examiners, and these decided from
their knowledge of the localities if those statements were probable ; and, if
they supposed them to be false, they had a right to double them. Out of the
income of each family the sum of one thousand francs was set aside for each
individual, husband, wife, and children : all beyond this was deemed surplus
income, and as such, liable to taxation. For a taxable income of 1000 to
10,000 francs the tax was one-tenth; a surplus of 1000 francs paid 100; a
surplus of 2000 paid 200, and so on. All surplus income exceeding 10,000
276 HISTORY OF THE
francs was charged a sum of equal amount. In this manner every family
which, besides the 1000 francs allowed per head, and the surplus income
of 10,000 francs which had to pay a tax of one-tenth, possessed a still larger
income, was obliged to give the whole excess to the loan. Thus a family
consisting of five persons and enjoying an income of 50,000 livres, had 5000
francs reputed to be necessary, 10,000 francs taxed one-tenth, which reduced
it to 9000, making in the whole 14,000 ; and was obliged to give up for this
year the remaining 36,000 to the forced or voluntary loan. To take one
year's surplus from all the opulent classes was certainly not so very harsh
a proceeding, when so many individuals were going to sacrifice their lives
in the field of battle ; and this sum, which, moreover, the government might
have taken irrevocably and as an indispensable war-tax, might be changed
fpr a republican title, convertible either into state annuities or into portions
of the national property.
This grand operation consisted therefore in withdrawing from circulation
one thousand millions in assignats, by taking it from the rich ; in divesting
that sum of its quality of money and of circulating medium, and turning it
into a mere charge upon the national property, which the rich might change
or not into a corresponding portion of that property. In this manner they
were obliged to become purchasers, or at least to furnish the same sum in
assignats as they would have furnished had they become so. It was in
short one thousand millions in assignats, the forced placing of which was
effected.
To these measures for supporting paper money were added others. After
destroying the rivalry between the old contracts of the state and that of the
assignats with the royal effigy, it became necessary to destroy the rivalry of
the shares in the financial companies. A decree was therefore passed
abolishing the life insurance company, ,the campagnie de la caisse (Tes-
compte, and in short all those whose funds consisted in shares payable to
bearer, in negotiable effects, or inscriptions transferable at pleasure. It was
decided that they should wind up their accounts within a short period, and
that in future the government alone should have a right to establish institu-
tions of that kind. A speedy report concerning the East India Company
was ordered ; that company, from its importance, requiring a separate exami-
nation. It was impossible to prevent the existence of bills of exchange upon
foreign countries, but those Frenchmen were declared traitors to their country
who should place their funds in the banks or counting-houses of countries
with which the republic was at war. Lastly, new severities were enacted
against specie; and the traffic carried on with it. Six years' imprisonment
had already been awarded to any one who should buy or sell specie, that is,
who should receive or give it for a different sum in assignats ; in like man-
ner all buyers and sellers of goods, who should bargain for a different price
according M payment might be stipulated for in specie or in asaignata, had
been subjected to a tine : such facts were difficult to come at, and the legis-
lature made itself amends by increasing the penalty. Every person convicted
of having refused to take assignats in payment, or of having received or paid
them away at a certain loss, was sentenced to a fine of three thousand livres
and six months' imprisonment for the first offence : and to a tine o( double
the amount and twenty years' imprisonment for the second. Lastly, as me-
tallic money was indispensable in the markets, and a substitute for it could
not easily be found, it was enacted that the bells should be used for making
decimes, demi-decimes, &c equivalent to two sous, one sou, &c.
But what means soever might be employed for raising the value of assyr-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 277
nats, and destroying the rivalry which was so prejudicial to them, no hope
could be entertained of restoring them to a level with the price of commodi-
!id the forced reduction of the latter became, therefore, a measure of
necessity. Besides, the people were impressed with a belief that :i had
spirit prevailed among the dealers, and that they were guilty of forestalling ;
and, whatevi r might be the opinion of the legislators, they could not bridle
on this particular point a populace which, in all other respects, they were
obliged to let loose. It was therefore requisite to do for commodities in
general what had already been done in regard to corn. A decree was issued
which placed forestalling among the number of capital crimes, and attached
to it the punishment of death. He was considered as a forestaller who should
withhold from circulation commodities of first necessity, without placing
them publicly on sale. The articles and commodities declared of first ne-
cessity were bread, wine, butchers' meat, corn, flour, vegetables, fruit, char-
coal, wood, butter, tallow, hemp, flax, salt, leather, drinkables, salted meat,
cloth, wool, and all stud's, excepting silks. The means of execution for such
a decree were necessarily inquisitorial and vexatious. Every dealer was re-
quired to render a statement of the stock in his possession. These declara-
tions were to be verified by means of domiciliary visits. Any fraud was,
like the crime itself, to be punished with death. Commissioners appointed by
the communes were authorized to inspect the invoices, and, from these in-
voices, to fix a price which, while it left a moderate profit to the dealer,
should not exceed the means of the people. If, however, added the decree,
the high price of the invoices should render it impossible for the dealers to
make any profit, the sale must nevertheless take place at such a price as the
purchaser could afford. Thus, in this decree, as in that which ordered a
declaration respecting corn, and a maximum, the legislature left to the com-
munes the task of fixing the prices according to the state of things in each
locality. It was soon led to generalize those measures still more, and, in
generalizing them more, to render them more violent.*
The military, financial, and administrative operations of this epoch were,
therefore, as ably conceived as the situation permitted, and as vigorous as
the danger required. The whole population, divided into generations, was
at the disposal of the representatives, and might be called out either to fight or
to manufacture arms, or to nurse the wounded. All the old debts, converted
into a single republican debt, were made liable to one and the same fate, and
to lie worth no more than the assignats. The numerous rivalships of the old
contracts, of the royal assignats, of the shares in companies, were destroyed;
the government prevented capital from being thus locked up by assimilating
them all; as the assignats did not come back, it took one thousand millions
from the rich, and made it pass from the state of money to the state of a mere
charge upon the national property. Lastly, in order to establish a forced re-
lation between the circulating medium and the commodities of first necessity,
it invested the communes with authority to seek out nil articles of consump-
tion, all merchandise, and to cause them to be sold at a price suited to each
locality. Never did a government adopt at once measures more vast or more
boldly conceived ; and, before wc can make their violence a subject of reproach
• These extravagant measures had not been long in operation, before they produced the
most disastrous t Hi-its. A great proportion of the shops in Paris, and all the principal tow M,
.it; business of every sort was at a stand ; the laws of the maximum and against fore-
stalled had spread terror and distrust as much among the middling classes who had com-
menced the {{evolution, as the guillotine had among nobles and priests who had been it-
earliest victims." — Alison. E.
2A
278 HISTORY OF THE
against their authors, we must forget the danger of a universal invasion, and
the necessity of living upon the national domains without purchasers. The
whole system of forced means sprang from these two causes. At the pr< -
day, a superficial and ungrateful generation finds fault with these operati
condemns some as violent, others as contrary to right principles of economy,
and adds the vice of ingratitude to ignorance of the time and of the situation.
Let us revert to the facts, and let us at length be just to those whom it cost
sucli efforts and such perils to save us !
After these general measures of finance and administration, others were
adopted witli more particular reference to each theatre of tin: war. Tli«
traordinary means long resolved upon in regard to La Vendee were at length
decreed. The character of that war was now well known. The forces of
the rebellion did not consist in organized troops which it might be possible
to destroy by victories, but in a population which, apparently peaceful and
engaged in agricultural occupations, suddenly rose at a given signal, over-
whelmed by its numbers, surprised by its unforeseen attack, the republican
troops, and, if defeated, concealed itself in its woods, in its fields, and re-
sumed its labours, widiout it being possible to distinguish him who had been
a soldier from him who had never ceased to be a peasant. An obstinate
struggle of more than six months, insurrections which had sometimes
amounted to one hundred thousand men, acts of the greatest temerity, a re-
nown inspiring terror, and the established opinion that the greatest danger 10
the Revolution lay in this destructive civil war, could not but call the whole
attention of the government to La Vendee, and provoke the most violent
and angry measures in regard to it.
It had long been asserted that the only way to reduce that unfortunate
country was, not to fight, but to destroy it, since its armies were nowhere
and yet eveiywhere. These views were adopted in a violent decree, in
which La Vendee, the Bourbons, the foreigners, were all at once doomed to
extermination. In consequence of this decree, the minister at war was or-
dered to send into the disturbed departments combustible matters for setting
fire .to the woods, the copses, and the bushes.* "The forests," it was there
said, "shall be cut down, the haunts of the rebels shall be destroyed, the
crops shall be cut by companies of labourers, the cattle seized, and tin; whole
carried out of the country. The old men, the women, and the children, shall
be removed from the country, and provisions shall be made for their subs
ence with the care due to humanity." The generals and the representa;
on missions were moreover enjoined to collect around La Vendee the sup-
plies necessary for the subsistence of large masses, and immediately after-
wards to raise in the surrounding departments not a gradual levy, as in other
parts of France, but a sudden and general levy, and thus pour one whole
population on another.
* " I did not see a single male being at the towns of St. Hermand, Chantonny, or Her-
biers. A few women alone had escaped the sword. Country-«eats, cottages, habitations of
whichevi r kind, were burnt. The herds and flocks were wandering in terror around theii
usual places of shelter, now smoking in ruins. I was surprised by night, but the wavering
and dismal blaze'of the conflagration afforded light over the country. To the bleating of the
disturbed flocks, and U-llowiug of the terrified cattle, were joined the deep hoarse notes of
carrion crows, and the yells of wild animals coming from the recesses of the woods to prey
on the carcasses of the slain. At length a distant column of fire, widening and inert .
as I approached, served me as a beacon. It was the town of Mortagne in flames. When I
arrived there, no living creatures were to be seen, save a few wretched women who were
striving to save some remnants of their property from the general conflagration." — Memoir*
of a Republican Officer. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 279
The choice of men corresponded with the nature of these measures. We
have seen Biron, Berthier, Mcnou, Westermann, compromised and stripped
of their command for having supported the system of discipline, and Ros-
signol, who infringed that discipline, taken out of prison by the agents of
the minisuv. The triumph of the Jacobin system was complete. Rossig-
nol, from merely chef de bataillon, was at once appointed general and com-
mander of the army of the coasts of La Rochelle. Ronsin, the principal
of thuse asrents of the ministry who carried into La Vendee all the passions
of the Jacobins, and asserted that it was not experienced generals, but stanch
republican generals, who were wanted, that it was not a regular war, but a
war of extermination which ought to be waged, that every man of the new
levy was ft soldier, and that every soldier might be a general — Ronsin, the
principal of those agents, was made, in four days, captain, chef iVescadron,
general of brigade, and assistant to Rossignol, with all the powers of the
minister himself, for the purpose of presiding over the execution of this new
system of warfare. Orders were issued, at the same time, that the garrison
M Mayencfl should be conveyed post from the Rhine to La Vendee.
So great was the prevailing distrust, that the generals of that brave garri-
son had been put under arrest for having capitulated. Fortunately, the brave
Merlin, who was always listened to with the respect due to an heroic cha-
racter, came forward and bore testimony to their devotedness and intrepidity.
Kleber and Aubert-Dubayet were restored to their soldiers, who had re-
solved to liberate them by force, and they repaired to La Vendee where they
were destined by their ability to retrieve the disasters caused by the agents
of ihe ministry. There is a truth which cannot be too often repeated : Pas-
sion is never either judicious or enlightened, but it is passion alone that can
save nations in great extremities. The appointment of Rossignol was a
strange boldness, but it indicated a course firmly resolved upon. It admitted
of no more half measures in that disastrous war in La Vendee, and it obliged
all the local administrations that were still wavering to speak out. Those
fiery Jacobins, dispersed among the armies, frequently excited agitation in
them, but they imparted to them that energy of resolution, without which
there would have been no equipping, no provisioning, no means of any kind.
They were most iniquitously unjust towards the generals, but they permitted
none of them to falter or to hesitate. We shall soon see that their frantic
ardour when combined with the prudence of more sedate men produced the
grandest and the most glorious results.
Kilmaine, after effecting that admirable retreat which had saved the army
of the North, was immediately superseded by Houchard, formerly com-
mander of the army of the Moselle, who possessed a high reputation for
bravery and zeal. In the committee of public welfare some changes had
taken place. Thuriot and Gasparin had resigned on account of illness. One
of them was succeeded by Robespierre, who at last made his way to the
government, and whose immense power was thus acknowledged and sub-
mitted to by the Convention, which hitherto had not appointed him upon
any committee. The other was replaced by the celebrated Carnot,* who
• " Carnot was one of the first officers of the French army who embraced cordially and
enthusiastically the regenerating views of the National Assembly. In 1791 he was in the
garrison at Bt Omer, where he married Mademoiselle Dupont, daughter of a merchant there.
His political principles, the moderation of his conduct, and his varied knowledge procured
for him soon after the honour of a seat in the legislature, from which period he devoted him-
self wholly to the imperative duties imposed on him either by the choice of his fcllow-citi-
xens, o* by the suffrages of his colleagues. The Convention placed in the hands of Carnot the
280 HISTORY OF THE
had previously been sent to the army of the North, where he had obtained
the character of an able and intelligent officer.
To all these administrative and military measures were added measures
of vengeance, agreeably to the usual custom of following up acts of energy
with acts of cruelty. We have already seen that, on the demand of the
envoys of the primary assemblies, a law against suspected persons had
been resolved upon. The projet of it was yet to be presented. It was
called for every day, on the ground that the decree of the 27th of March,
which put the aristocrats out of the pale of the law, did not <_r<> far enough.
That decree required a trial, but people wanted one which should permit the
imprisonment without trial of the citizens suspected on account of their opi-
nions, merely to secure their persons. While this decree was pending, it
was decided that the property of all those who were outlawed should belon
the republic. More severe measures against foreigners were next demanded.
They had already been placed under the surveillance of the committees
styled revolutionary, but something more was required. The idea of a foreign
conspiracy, of which Pitt was supposed to be the prime mover, filled all
minds more than ever. A pocket-book found on the walls of one of our
frontier towns contained letters written in English, and which English
agents in France addressed to one another. In these letters mention was
made of considerable sums sent to secret agents dispersed in our camps, in
our fortresses, and in our principal towns. Some were charged with con-
tracting an intimacy with our generals in order to seduce them, and to obtain
accurate information concerning the state of our forces, of our fortified pi
and of our supplies ; others were commissioned to penetrate into our arsenals
and our magazines with phosphoric matches and to set them on fire. " Make
the exchange," was also said in these letters, " rise to two hundred livres
for one pound sterling. The assignats must be discredited as much as pos-
sible, and all those which have not the royal effigy must be refused. Make
the price of all articles of consumption rise too. Give orders to all your
merchants to buy up all the articles of first necessity. If you can persuade
colossal and incoherent mass of the military requisition. It was necessary to organize, disci-
pline, and teach. He drew from it fourteen armies. He had to create able leaders. His
penetrating eye ranged through the most obscure ranks in search of talent united with cour-
age and disinterestedness; and he promoted it rapidly to the highest grades. In 1802, Car-
not opposed the creation of the Legion of Honour. He likewise opposed the erection of the
consulate for life ; but it was most especially at the period when it was proposed to raise Bo-
naparte to the throne that he exerted all his energy. He stood alone in the midst of the
general defection. His conduct during the Hundred Days appears to me summed up com-
pletely in the memorable words which Napoleon addressed to him, on entering the carriage
when he was going to Rochefort, ' Carnot, I have known you too late !' After the catastrophe
of the Hundred Days, Carnot was proscribed, and obliged to expatriate himself. He died
at Magdeburg in 1S'23, nt the age of seventy years. It is true, he had ambition, but he has
himself told us its character — it was the ambition of the three hundred Spartans going to
defend Thermopylae." — Ara^o. E.
" Carnot was' a man laborious and sincere, but liable to the influence o( intrigues, and
easily deceived. When minister of war he showed but little talent, and had many quarrels
with the ministers of finance and the treasury, in all of which he was wrong. He left the
government, convinced that he could not fulfil his station for want of money. He after-
wards voted against the establishment of the empire, but as his conduct was always upright,
he never gave any umbrage to the government. During the prosperity of the empire he
never asked for anything ; but. after the misfortunes of Russia, he demanded employment
and got the command of Antwerp, where he acquitted himself very well. After Napoleon's
return from Elba, he was minister of the interior, and the emperor had every reason to lw
satisfied with his conduct He was faithful, and a man of truth and probity." — A Voice
from St. Helena. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 281
Cott — to buy up all the tallow and the candles, no matter at what price,
make the public pay five francs per pound for them. His lordship is highly
pleased with the way in which B — t — z has acted. We hope that the mur-
ders will be prudently committed. Disguised priests and women are fittest
for this operation."
These letters merely proved that England had some military spies in our
armies, some agents in our commercial towns for the purpose of aggravating
there the distress occasioned by the dearth, and that some of them might
perhaps take money upon the pretext of committing seasonable murders.*
But all these means were far from formidable, and they were certainly exag-
gerated by the usual boasting of the agents employed in this kind of ma-
noeuvre. It is true that tires had broken out at Douai, at Valenciennes, in
the sailmakers' building at Laurient, at Bayonne, and in the parks of artillery
near Chemille and Saumur. It is possible that these agents might have
been the authors of those fires ; but assuredly they had not pointed either
the dagger of Paris, the life-guardsman against Lepelletier, or the knife of
Charlotte Corday against Marat ; and, if they were engaged in stockjobbing
speculations upon foreign paper and assignats, if they bought some goods
by means of the credits opened in London by Pitt, they had but a very slight
influence on our commercial and financial situation, which was the effect of
causes far more general, and of far greater magnitude than these paltry in-
trigues. These letters, however, concurring with several fires, two murders,
and the jobbing in foreign paper, excited universal indignation. The Con-
vention, by a decree, denounced the British government to all nations, and
declared Pitt the enemy of mankind. At the same time it ordered that all
foreigners domiciliated in France since the 14th of July, 1789, should be
immediately put in a state of arrest.
Lastly, it was directed by a decree that the proceedings against Custine
should be speedily brought to a conclusion. Biron and Lamarche were put
upon trial. The act of accusation of the Girondins was pressed afresh,
and orders were given to the revolutionary tribunal to take up the proceed-
ings against them with the least possible delay. The wrath of the Assembly
was again directed against the remnant of the Bourbons and that unfortunate
family which was deploring in the tower of the Temple the death of the
late King. It was decreed that all the Bourbons who were still in France
should be exiled, excepting those who were under the sword of the law ;
that the Duke of Orleans, who had been transferred in the month of May to
Marseilles, and whom the federalists were against bringing to trial, should
be conveyed back to Paris, and delivered over to the revolutionary tribunal.
His death would stop the mouths of those who accused the Mountain of an
intention to set up a king. The unhappy Marie Antoinette, notwithstanding
her sex, was, like her husband, devoted to the scaffold. She was reputed
• " We need scarcely point out to our readers the utter absurdity of the supposition that
the English government employed agents in France to recommend that " seasonable mur-
ders" should be " prudently committed," and to reward those who perpetrated them ! We
are surprised that an historian so temperate and sagacious as M. Thiers should have thought
it worth his while to insinuate even a qualified belief in such a preposterous rumour. His
cautious introduction of the word " perhaps" does not much mend the matter. But, grant-
ing that there were the slightest foundation for such a supposition, was it for France to take
fright at, and be filled with a virtuous abhorrence of, murder — that same France which had
winked at the wholesale slaughter of the Swiss guards, and the still more indefensible and
atrocious massacre of upwards of eighty thousand persons in the dungeons of Paris 1 When
a nation has not hesitated to ■ swallow the camel," it is sheer affectation in it to " strain at
the gnat" E.
vol. ii. — 36 2 a 2
282 HISTORY OF THE
to have instigated all the plots of the late court, and was deemed much more
culpable than Louis XVI. Above all, she was a daughter of Austria, which
was at this moment the most formidable of all the hostile powers. Accord-
ing to the custom of most daringly defying the most dangerous enemy, it
was determined to send Marie Antoinette to the scaffold, at the very moment
when the imperial armies were advancing towards our territory. She was,
therefore, transferred to the Conciergerie to be tried, like any ordinary ac-
cused person, by the revolutionary tribunal. The Princess Elizabeth, des-
tined to banishment, was detained as a witness against her sister. The two
children were to be maintained and educated by the republic, which would
judge, at the return of peace, what was fitting to be done in regard to them.
Up to this time the family imprisoned in the Temple had been supplied with
a degree of luxury consistent with its former rank. The Assembly now de-
creed that it should be reduced to what was barely necessary. Lastly, to
crown all these acts of revolutionary vengeance, it was decreed that the royal
tombs at St. Denis should be destroyed.*
Such were the measures which the imminent dangers of the month of
August, 1793, provoked for the defence and for the vengeance of the Re-
volution.
* " The royal tombs at St. Denis near Paris, the ancient cemetery of the Bourbons, the Va-
lois, and all the long line of French monarchs, were not only defaced on the outside, but
utterly broken down, the bodies exposed, and the bones dispersed. The first vault opened
was that of Turenne. The body was found dry like a mummy, and the features perfectly
resembling the portrait of this distinguished general. Relics were sought after with M
ness, and Camille Desmoulins cut off one of the little fingers. The features of Henry IV.
were also perfect. A soldier cut off a lock of the beard with his sabre. The body was
placed upright on a stone for the rabble to divert themselves with it; and a woman, re-
proaching the dead Henry with the crime of having been a king, knocked down the corpse,
by giving it a blow in the face. Two large pits had been dug in front of the north entrance
of the church, and quicklime laid in them : into those pits the bodies were thrown promis-
cuously ; the leaden coffins were then carried to a furnace, which had been erected in the
cemetery, and cast into balls, destined to punish the enemies of the republic." — Scott's Life
of Napoleon. E.
«?" a^fc
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 283
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
MOVEMENT OF THE ARMIES IN AUGUST AND SEPTEMBER, 1793— IN-
VESTMENT OF LYONS— TREASON OF TOULON— PLAN OF CAMPAIGN
AGAINST LA VENDEE— VICTORY OF HONDTSCHOOTE— GENERAL
REJOICING— FRESH REVERSES— DEFEAT AT MENIN, AT PD2MA8EN8,
AT PERPIGNAN, AND AT TORFOU— RETREAT OF CANCLAUX UPON
NANTES.
After the retreat of the French from Caesar's Camp to the camp of Ga-
varelle, it was again the moment for the allies to follow up a demoralized
army, which had been uniformly unfortunate ever since the opening of the
campaign. Since the month of March, in fact, beaten at Aix-la-Chapelle
and at .Neerwinden, it had lost Dutch Flanders, Belgium, the camp of Fa-
mars, Ctesar's Camp, and the fortresses of Conde and Valenciennes. One
of its general* had gone over to the enemy, another had been killed. Thus,
ever since the battle of Jemappes, it had been making only a series of re-
treats, highly meritorious, it is true, but by no means encouraging. Without
even entertaining the too bold design of a direct march to Paris, the allies
had it in their power to destroy this nucleus of an army, a*nd then they might
take at their leisure all the places which it might suit their selfishness to oc-
cupy. But as soon as Valenciennes had surrendered, the English, in • irtue
of the agreement made at Antwerp, insisted on the siege of Dunkirk. Then,
while the Prince of Coburg, remaining in the environs of his camp at Herin,
between the Scarpe and the Scheldt, meant to occupy the French, and thought
of taking Le Quesnoy, the Duke of York, marching with the English and
Hanoverian army by Orchies, Menin, Dixmude, and Fumes, sat down be-
fore Dunkirk between the Langmoor and the sea. Two sieges to be carried
on would therefore give us a little more time. Houchard sent to Gavarelle,
hastily collected there all the disposable force in order to fly to the relief of
Dunkirk. To prevent the English from gaining a seaport on the continent,
to beat individually our greatest enemy, to deprive him of all advantage from
this war, and to furnish the English opposition, with new weapons against
Pitt — such were the reasons that caused Dunkirk to be considered as the most
important point of the whole theatre of war. "The salvation of the republic
is there" — wrote the committee of public welfare to Houchard; and at the
instance of Carnot, who was perfectly sensible that the troops collected be-
tween the northern frontier and that of the Rhine, that is on the Moselle, were
3 there, it was decided that a reinforcement should be drawn from them
and sent to Flanders. Twenty or twenty-five days were thus spent in pre-
parations, a delay easily conceivable on the part of the French, who had to
reassemble their troops dispersed at considerable distances, but inconceivable
on the part of the English, who had only four or five marches to make in
order to be under the walls of Dunkirk.
\\ i- left the two French armies of the Moselle and of the Rhine endeavour-
ing to advance, but too late, towards Mayence, and without preventing the
284 HISTORY OF THE
reduction of that place. They had afterwards fallen back upon Saarbruck,
Hornbach, and Weissenburg. We must give the reader a notion of the the-
atre of war, to enable him to comprehend these movements. The French
frontier is of a singular conformation to the north and east. The Scheldt,
the Meuse, the Moselle, the chain of the Vosges, and the Rhine, run towards
the north, forming nearly parallel lines. The Rhine, on reaching the extremity
of the Vosges, makes a sudden bend, ceases to run in a parallel direction
with those lines, and terminates them by turning the foot of the Vosges, and
receiving in its course the Moselle and the Meuse. On the northern frontier,
the allies had advanced as far as between the Scheldt and the Meuse. Be-
tween the Meuse and the Moselle they had not made any progress, because
the weak corps left by them between Luxemburg and Treves had not been
able to attempt anything; but they were stronger between the Moselle, the
Vosges, and the Rhine.
We have seen that they placed themselves a cheval at the Vosges, parUy
on the eastern and partly on the western slope. The plan to be pursued was,
as we have before observed, extremely simple. Considering the backbone
of the Vosges as a river, all the passages of which you ought to occupy, you
might throw all your masses upon one bank, overwhelm the enemy on that
side, and then return and crush him on the other. This idea had not occur-
red either to the French or to the allies ; and ever since the capture of Mav-
ence, the Prussians, placed on the western slope, faced the army of the
Rhine. We had retired within the celebrated lines of Weissenburg. The
army of the Moselle, to the number of twenty thousand men, was posted at
Saarbruck, on the Sarre ; the corps of the Vosges, twelve thousand in nam*
oer, was at Hornbach and Kettrick, and was connected in the mown tain* with
the extreme left of the army of the Rhine. The army of the Rhine, twenty
thousand strong, guarded the Lauter from Weissenburg to Lauterburg. Such
are the lines of Weissenburg. The Sarre runs from the Vosges to the Mo-
selle, the Lauter from the Vosges to the Rhine, and both form a single line,
which almost perpendicularly intersects the Moselle, the Vosges, and the
Rhine. You make yourself master of it by occupying Saarbruck, Hornbach,
Kettrick, Weissenburg, and Lauterburg. This we had done. We had
scarcely sixty thousand men on this whole frontier, because it had been ne-
cessary to send succours to Houchard. The Prussians had taken two months
to approach us, and had at length arrived at Pirmasens. Reinforced by the
forty thousand men who had just brought the siege of Mayence to a conclu-
sion, and united with the Austrians, they might have overwhelmed us on one
or the other of the two slopes, but discord prevailed between Prussia and
Austria, on account of the partition of Poland. Frederick William, who
still at the camp of the Vosges, did not second the impatient ardour of Wurm-
ser. The latter, full of fire, notwithstanding his age,* made every day fresh
attempts upon the lines of Weissenburg ; but his partial attacks had proved
unsuccessful, and served only to slaughter men to no purpose. Such
still, early in September, the state of things on the Rhine.
In the South, events had begun to develop themselves. The long uncer-
tainty of the Lyonnese had at length terminated in open resistance, and the
* " Wurmser, observed Bonaparte, was very old, brave as a lion, but so extremely deaf,
that he could not hear the balls whistling about him. Wurmser saved my life on one occa-
sion. When I reached Rimini, a messenger overtook me with a letter from him, containing
an account of a plan to poison me, and where it was to have been put into execution. It
would in all probability have succeeded, hud it not been for this information. Wurmser, like
Fox, acted a noble part" — A Voice from St. Helena. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. i!85
siege of their city had become inevitable. We have seen that they offered
to submit and to acknowledge the Constitution, but without explaining them-
selves respecting the decrees which enjoined them to send the imprisoned
patriots to Paris, and to dissolve the new sectionary authority : nay, it was
not long before they infringed those decrees in the most signal manner, by
sending Chalier and Riard to the scaffold, making daily preparations for
war, taking money from the public coffers, and detaining the convoys de-
stined for the armies. Many partizans of the emigration gained admittance
among them, and alarmed them about the re-establishment of the old Moun-
taineer municipality. They flattered them, moreover, with the arrival of the
Marseillais, who, they said, were ascending the Rhone, and with the march
of the Piedmontese, who were about to debouch from the Alps with sixty
thousand men. Though the Lyonnese, stanch federalists, bore an equal
enmity to the foreign powers and to the emigrants, yet they felt such a hor-
ror of the Mountain and the old municipality, that they were ready to expose
themselves to the danger and the infamy of a foreign alliance rather than to
the vengeance of the Convention.
The Saone, running between the Jura and the Cote-d'Or, and the Rhone,
coming from the Valais between the Jura and the Alps, unite at Lyons.
That wealthy city is seated at their confluence. Up the Saone, towards
Macon, the country was entirely republican, and Laporte and Reverchond,
the deputies, having collected some thousands of the requisitionary force, cut
off the communication with the Juia. Dubois-C ranee was approaching on
the side next to the Alps, and guarding the upper course of the Rhone. But
the Lyonnese were completely masters of the lower course of the Rhone,
and of its right bank as far as the mountains of Auvergne. They were mas-
ters also of the whole Forez, into which they made freqifent incursions, and
supplied themselves with arms at St. Etienne. A skilful engineer had erect-
ed excellent fortifications around their city ; and a foreigner had founded
cannon for the ramparts. The population was divided into two portions.
The young men accompanied Precy, the commandant, in his excursions ;
the married men, the fathers of famdies, guarded the city and its intrench-
ments.
At length, on the 8th of August, Dubois-C ranee, who had quelled the
federalist revolt at Grenoble, prepared to march upon Lyons, agreeably to
the decree which enjoined him to reduce that rebellious city to obedience.
The army of the Alps amounted at the utmost to twenty-five thousand men,
and it was soon likely to have on its hands the Piedmontese, who, profiting
at length by the month of August, made preparations for debouching by the
great chain. This army had lately been weakened, as we have seen, by two
detachments, the one to reinforce the army of Italy, and the other to reduce
the Marseillais. The Puy-de-D&me, which was to send its recruits, had
kept them to stifle the revolt of La Lozere, of which we have already treated.
Houchard had retained the legion of the Rhine, which was destined for the
Alps ; and the minister was continually promising a reinforcement of one
thousand horse, which did not arrive. Dubois-C ranee, nevertheless, detach-
ed five thousand regular troops, and added to them seven or eight thousand
young requisitionaries. He came with his forces and placed himself between
me and the Rhone in such a manner as to occupy their upper courae,
to intercept the supplies coming to Lyons by water, to remain in communi-
cation with the army of the Alps, and to cut off all communication with
Switzerland and Savoy. By these dispositions he still left the Forez and
the still more important heights of Fourvieres to the Lyonnese ; but in his
286 HISTORY OF THE
situation he could not act otherwise. The essential point was to occupy the
courses of the two rivers, and to cut off Lyons from Switzerland and Pied-
mont. Dubois-C ranee awaited in order to complete the blockade, the fresh
forces which had been promised him, and the siege artillery which he was
obliged to fetch from our fortresses near the Alps. The transport of this
artillery required five thousand horses.
On the 8th of August, he summoned the city. The conditions on which
lie insisted were the absolute disarming of all the citizens, the retirement of
each to his own house, the surrender of the arsenal, and the formation of
a provisional municipality. But at this moment, the secret emigrants in the
commission and the staff continued to deceive the Lyonnese, and to alarm
them about the return of the Mowitaineer municipality, telling tin in at the
same time that sixty thousand Piedmontese were ready to debouch upon their
city. An action which took place, between two advanced posts, and which
terminated in favour of the Lyonnese, excited them to the highest pitch and
decided their resistance and their misfortunes. Dubois-Crance opened his
fire upon the quarter of the Croix Rousse, between the two rivers, where he
had taken position, and on the very first day his artillery did great mischief.
Thus one of our most important manufacturing cities was involved in the
horrors of bombardment, and we had to execute this bombardment in pre-
sence of the Piedmontese, who were ready to descend from the Alps.
Meanwhile Cartaux* had marched upon Marseilles, and had crossed the
Durance in the month of August. The Marseillais had retired from Aix
towards their own city, and had resolved to defend the gorges of Septcmc,
through which the road from Aix to Marseilles runs. On the 24th, (Gene-
ral Doppet attacked them with the advanced guard of Cartaux. The action
was very brisk, but a section, which had always been in opposition to the
others, went over to the side of the republicans, and turned the combat in
their favour. The gorges were carried, and on the 25th Cartaux entered
Marseilles with his little army.
This event decided another, the most calamitous that had yet afflicted the
republic. The city of Toulon, which had always appeared to be animated
with the most violent republicanism, while the municipality had been
maintained there, had changed its spirit under the new authority of the
sections, and was soon destined to change masters. The Jacobins, joint-
ly with the municipality, inveighed against the aristocratic officers of
the navy ; they never ceased to complain of the slowness of the repairs
done to the squadron, and of its loitering in port ; and they loudly de-
manded the punishment of the officers to whom they attributed the unfa-
vourable result of the expedition against Sardinia. The moderate republi-
cans replied there, as everywhere else, that the old officers alone were capa-
ble of commanding squadrons ; that the ships could not be more expeditious-
ly repaired ; that it would be the height of imprudence to insist on their sail-
ing against the combined Spanish and English fleet ; and lastly, that the
officers whose punishment was called for were not traitors, but warriors
whom the fortune of war had not favoured. The moderates predominated
in the sections. A multitude of secret agents, intriguing on behalf of the
* " General Cartaux, originally a painter, had become an adjutant in the Parisian corps ;
he was afterwards employed in the army ; and, having been successful against the Marseillais,
the deputies of the Mountain had on the same day obtained him the appointments of briga-
dier-general, and general of division. He was extremely ignorant, and had nothing military
about him ; otherwise he was not ill-disposed, and committed no excesses at Marseilles on the
taking of that city." — Bourrienne. E.
FRENXH REVOLUTION. 287
emigrants and the English, immediately introduced themselves into Toulon,
and induced the inhabitants to go farther than they intended. These agent*
communicated with Admiral Lord Hood, and made sure that the allied squad-
rons would be off the harbour, ready to make their appearance at the first
signal. In the first place, after the example of the Lyonnese, they caused
the president of the Jacobin club, named Sevestre, to he tried and executed.
They then restored the refractory priests to their functions. They dug up
and carried about in triumph the bones of some unfortunate persons who had
perished in the disturbances in behalf of the royalist cause.
The committee of public welfare having ordered the squadron to stop the
ships bound to Marseilles, for the purpose of reducing that city, they caused
the execution of this/order to be refused, and made a merit of it with the
sections of Marseilles. They then began to talk, of the dangers to which the
city was exposed by resisting the Convention, of the necessity for securing
aid against its fury, and of the propriety of obtaining that of England by pro-
claiming Louis XVII. The commissioner of the navy was, as it appears,
the principal instrument of the conspiracy. He seized the money in the cof-
fers, sent by sea in quest of funds as far as the department of the Herault, and
wrote to Genoa desiring the supplies of provisions to be withheld, that the
situation of Toulon might be rendered more critical. The staff's had been
changed ; a naval officer, compromised in the expedition to Sardinia, was
taken out of prison and appointed commander of the plaee ; an old life-guards-
man was put at the head of the national guard, and the forts were intrusted
to returned emigrants : lastly, Admiral Trogoff, a foreigner whom France
had loaded with favours, was secured. A negotiation was opened with Lord
Hood, under pretext of an exchange of prisoners, and at the moment when
Cartaux had just entered Marseilles, when terror was at its height in Toulon,
and when eight or ten thousand Provencals, the most counter-revolutionary
in the country, had taken refuge there, the conspirators ventured to submit to
the sections the disgraceful proposal to receive the English, who were to
take possession of the place in trust for Louis XVII.
The marine, indignant at the treachery, sent a deputation to the sections
to oppose the infamy that was preparing. But the Toulonese and Marseil-
lais counter-revolutionists, more daring than ever, rejected the remonstrances
of the marine, and caused the proposal of the 29th of August to be adopted.
The signal was immediately given to the English. Admiral Trogoff, putting
himself at the head of those who were for delivering up the port, called the
squadron around him and hoisted the white flag. The brave Rear-admiral
Julien, declaring Trogoff a traitor, hoisted the flag of commander-in-chief on
board his own ship, and endeavoured to rally round him such of the squad-
ron as remained faithful. But at this moment the traitors, already in pos-
session of the forts, threatened to burn St. Julien and his ships. He was
then obliged to fly with a few officers and seamen; the others were hurried
away without knowing precisely what was going to be done with them ; and
Lord Hood, who had long hesitated, at length appeared, and, upon pretext
of receiving the port of Toulon in trust for Louis XVIL, took possession of
it for the purpose of burning and destroying it.*
* The following is Lord Hood's proclamation on taking possession of Toulon, which cer-
tainly does not warrant M. Thiers'e assumption, lhat he entered, " for the purpose of burning
and destroying" the town : — " Considering that the sections of Toulon have, by the commis-
sioners whom they have sent to me, made a solemn declaration in fuvour of Louis XVIL,
Ak.
288 _ HISTORY OF THE
During this interval, no movement had taken place in the Pyrenees. In
the West, preparations were made to carry into execution the measures de-
creed by the Convention.
We left all the columns of Upper Vendee reorganizing themselves at An-
gers, Saumur, and Niort. The Vendeans had meanwhile gained possession
of the Ponts-de-Ce, and, in consequence of the terror which they excited,
Saumur was placed in a state of siege. The column of Lucon and Les Sa-
llies was the only one capable of acting on the offensive. It was commanded
by a general named Tuncq, one of those who were reputed to belong to the
military aristocracy, and whose dismissal had been solicited of tbe minister
by Ronsin. He had with him the two representatives, Bourdon of the Oise,
and Goupilleau of Fontenay, whose sentiments were similar to his own, and
who were adverse to Ronsin and Rossignol. Goupilleau, in particular, be-
ing a native of the country, was inclined, from the ties of consanguinity and
friendship, to treat the inhabitants with indulgence, and to spare them the
severities which Ronsin and his partisans would fain have inflicted upon
them.
Tbe Vendeans, in whom the column of Lu^on excited some apprehensions,
resolved to direct against it their forces, which had been everywhere victo-
rious. They wished more especially to succour the division of M. de
Roirand, which, placed before Lucon, and between the two great armies of
Upper and Lower Vendee, acted with its own unaided resources, and de-
served to be seconded in its efforts. Accordingly, early in August, they
directed some parties against Lucon, but were completely repulsed by Gene-
ral Tuncq. They then resolved to make a more decisive effort. Messrs.
d'Elbee, de Lescure, de Laroche-Jacquelein, andCharette, joined with forty
thousand men, proceeded on the 14th of August to the environs of Lucon.
Tuncq had scarcely six thousand. M. de Lescure, confident in the supe-
riority of number, gave the fatal advice to attack the republican army on
open ground. Messrs. de Lescure and Charette took the command of the
left, M. d'Elbee that of the centre, M. de Laroche-Jacquelein that of the
right. Messrs. de Lescure and Charette acted with great vigour on the right,
but in the centre, the men, obliged to meet regular troops on plain ground,
manifested hesitation ; and M. de Laroche-Jacquelein, having missed his
way, did not arrive in time on the left. General Tuncq, seizing the favour-
able moment for directing his light artillery against the staggered centre,
threw it into confusion, and, in a few moments, put to flight all tbe Vendt
forty thousand in number. Never had the latter experienced such a disaster.
They lost the whole of their artillery, and returned home stricken with con-
sternation.*
and a monarchial government; and that they will use their utmost efforts to break the chains
which fetter their country, and re-establish the Constitution, as it was accepted by their de-
funct sovereign in 1789; I repeat, by this present declaration, that I take possession of Tou-
lon, and shall keep it solely as a deposit for Louis XVII., and that only till peace is re-esta-
blished in France." In another proclamation his lordship is still more explicit. " I declare,"
says he, "that property and persons in Toulon shall be held sacred ; we wish only to re-esta-
blish peace." Surely Lord Hood could never have dreamed of entering Toulon " for the
purpose of burning and destroying it," after publicly pledging himself to sentiments like
these! E.
• 1 The Vendeans had to fight in an open plain, a new and difficult thing to them. Lee-
cure proposed arranging the divisions behind each other, in such a manner that they could
successively support, and warmly urged the advantages of this plan, which was adopted. The
Blues fell back at the first, and the left wing had already taken five cannon, when they per-
ceived that the centre did not follow the movement M. d'Elbee had given no instruction to
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 289
At this moment the dismissal of General Tuncq arrived, which had been
demanded by Ronsin. Bourdon and Goupilleau, indignant at this pt
lire, retained him in his command, wrote to the Convention to obtain the
revocation of the minister's decision, and made fresh complaints against the
tnizing party of Saumur, which, they said, produced nothing bat coo*
fusion, and would fain turn out all the experienced generals to make room
for ignorant demagogues. At this moment Rossignol who was inspecting
the different columns under his command, arrived at Luc.on. His interview
with Tuncq, Goupilleau, and Bourdon, was but an interchange of reproaches.
Notwithstanding two victories, he was dissatisfied because battles had been
fought without his approbation ; for he thought, and indeed with reason, that
any engagement ought to be avoided before the general reorganization of the
different armies. They separated, and immediately afterwards, Bourdon and
Goupilleau, being informed of certain acts of severity exercised by Rossignol
in the country, had the boldness to issue an order for displacing him. The
representatives who were at Saumur, Merlin, Bourbotte, Choudieu, and Rew-
ind, immediately cancelled the order of Goupilleau and Bourdon, and rein-
stated Rossignol. The affair was referred to the Convention. Rossignol,
again confirmed, triumphed over his adversaries. Bourdon and Goupilleau
were recalled, and Tuncq was suspended.
Such was the state of things when the garrison of Mayence arrived in La
Vendee. It became a question what plan should be adopted, and in what
quarter this brave garrison was to act. Should it be attached to the army of La
Rochelle, and placed under the command of Rossignol, or to the army of
Brest under Canclaux ?* Each was desirous of having it, because it could
not fail to insure success wherever it might act. It was agreed to overwhelm
the country by simultaneous attacks, which, directed from all the points of
the circumference, should meet at the centre. But as the column to which
the men of Mayence should be attached, would necessarily act upon a more
decidedly offensive plan, and drive back the Vendeans upon the others, it
became a subject for consideration on which point it would be most advan-
tageous to repel the enemy. Rossignol and his partisans maintained that
the best plan would be to let the men of Mayence march by Saumur, in
order to drive back the Vendeans upon the sea and the Upper Loire, where
they might be entirely destroyed ; that the columns of Saumur and Angers,
being too weak, needed the support of the men of Mayence to act; that, left
his officers ; and his soldiers, intending to fight according to their usual custom, by running
upon the enemy, M. d'Elbee stopped them, and called repeatedly, • Form your lines, my
friends, by my horse.' M. Herbauld, who commanded a part of the centre, and who knew
nothing of this circumstance, led his soldiers forward, without suspecting that the others did
not fallow. The republican general, seizing the moment of this disorder, made a manoeuvre
with the light artillery, which entirely separated M. d'Elbee's division ; and this being follow-
ed by a charge of cavalry, the rout became complete. M. de Larochejaquclein succeeded in
covering the retreat, and saved many lives by the timely removal of an overturned wagon
from the bridge of Bessay. In the midst of this rout of the centre, forty peasants of Courlay,
with crossed bayonets, sustained the whole charge of cavalry without losing ground. This
unfortunate affair, the most disastrous that had yet taken place, cost many lives. The light
artillery acted with great effect on the level plain ; and the peasants had never taken flight in
so much terror and disorder." — Memoirs of the Marchioness de Larochejaquelin. E.
* " General Canclaux, the heroic defender of Nantes, was a man of military skill and
high courage. He was born at Paris in 1740. After the revolution of the 18th Brumaire,
Napoleon gave him the command of a military division, and made him a senator. At the
restoration he was created a peer Canclaux died in the year 1817." — Scott's Life of Na
poleon. E.
vol. ii. — 37 ' 2 B
290 • HISTORY OF THE
to themselves, it would be impossible for them to advance in the field, and
to keep pace with the other columns of Niort and Luc.on ; that they would
not even be able to stop the Vendeans, when driven back, and prevent them
from spreading over the interior; that, lastly, by letting- tbe Mayencais m
by Saumur, no time would be lost, whereas in making them march by
Nantes, they would be obliged to take a considerable circuit and would
ten or fifteen days.
Canclaux, on the contrary, was struck by the danger of leaving tl
open to the Vendeans. An English squadron had just been discovered off
the west coast, and it was impossible to doubt that the English meditati
landing in the Marais. Such was at the time the general notion, and th
it was erroneous, it was the general topic of conversation. The English,
however, had only just sent an emissary into La Vendee. He had arr
in disguise, and had inquired the names of the chiefs, the number of their
forces, their intentions, and their precise object: so ignorant was Earop
the occurrences in the interior of France ! The Vendeans replied by i
mand of money and ammunition, and by a promise to send fifty thou-
men to any point where it might be resolved upon to effect a landing.
operation of this kind, therefore, was still far distant, but it was everywhere
supposed to be on the point of execution. It was consequently necessary,
said Canclaux, that the Mayencais should act by Nantes, and thus cut oil*
the Vendeans from the sea, and drive them back towards the upper country.
If they were to spread themselves in the interior, added Canclaux, th
soon be destroyed, and as for the loss of time, that was a <• on which
ought not to have any weight, for the army of Saumur was in such a
as not to be able to act in less than ten or twelve daj
Mayencais. One reason, which was not assigned, was that the army of
Mayence, ready trained to the business of war, would rather serve with pro-
fessional men; and preferred Canclaux, an experienced general, to Rossignol,
an ignorant general; and the army of Brest, signalized by glorioi
to that of Saumur, known only by its defeats. The representatives, attached
to the cause of discipline, were also of this opinion, and were afraid of com-
promising the army of Mayence by placing it amidst the unruly Jacobin
diers of Saumur.
Philippeaux,* the most zealous of the representatives against Ronsin's
party, repaired to Paris, and obtained an order of the committee of public
welfare in favour of Canclaux's plan. Ronsin obtained the revocation of the
order, and it was then agreed that a council of war, to lie held at Saumur,
should decide on the employment of the forces. The council was held
the 2d of September. Among its members were many reprcsentati\e>
generals. Opinions were divided. Rossignol, who was perfectly sincere in
his, offered to resign the command to Canclaux if he would suffer the May-
encais to act bv Saumur. The opinion of Canclaux, however, prevailed.
The Mayencais were attached to the army of Ilrest, and the principal attack
was to be directed from Lower upon Upper Vendee. The plan of campaign
was signed, and it was agreed to start on a given day from Saumur.
Les Sables, and Niort.
• " Pierre Philippeaux, a lawyer, deputy to the Convention, voted for the King's death.
He was afterwards sent into La Vendee to reorganise the administration of Nantes, where
he was involved in a contention with some of the representatives sent into the same country,
which ended in bis recall to Paris, He was condemned to death by the revolutionary tri-
bunal, in the thirty-fifth year of his age. Philippeaux waa an honest, enthusiastic republican.''
— Biographic Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 291
The greatest mortification prevailed in the Saumur party. R< , as-
sessed zeal, sincerity, but no military knowledge. He had ill health, and,
though standi in principle, lie was incapable of serving in a useful manner,
lit felt less resentment on account of the decision adopted than his partisans
themselves, Ronsin, Momoro, and all the ministerial agents. They wrote
forthwith to Paris, complaining of the injudicious course which had been
taken, of the calumnies circulated against the sans-cufotte generals, and of
the prejudices which had been infused into the army of Mayence ; and by
so doing, they showed dispositions which left no room to hope for much
real on their part in seconding the plan agreed upon at Saumur. Ronsin
even carried his ill-will to such a length as to interrupt the distribution of
provisions to the Mayence troops, because, as they were transferred from the
army of La Rochelle to that of Brest, it was the duty of the administrators
of the latter to furnish them with supplies. The Mayenr,ais set out imme-
diately for Nantes, and Canclaux made all the necessary arrangements for
executing the plan agreed upon early in September. We must now follow
the grand operations which succeeded these preparations.
The Duke of York had arrived before Dunkirk with twenty-one thousand
English and Hanoverians, and twelve thousand Austrians. Marshal Freytag
was BlOfll Capelle with sixteen thousand men ; The Prince of Orange at
Menin with fifteen thousand Dutch. The two latter corps were placed there
as an army of observation. The rest of the allies, dispersed around Le Ques-
noy and as far as the Moselle, amounted to about one hundred thousand men.
Thus one hundred and sixty or one hundred and seventy thousand men were
spread over that immense line engaged in sieges and in guarding all the
passes. Carnot, who began to direct the operations of the French, had already
perceived that their principal object ought to be, not to fight at every point,
but to employ a mass opportunely on one decisive point. He had, therefore,
recommended the removal of thirty-five thousand men from the Moselle and •
the Rhine to the North. His advice had been adopted, but only twelve
thousand of them had been able to reach Flanders. With this reinforcement,
however, and with the different camps at Gavarelle, at Lille, and at Cassel,
the French could have formed a mass of sixty thousand men, and struck
severe blows in the state of dispersion in which the enemy then was. To
convince himself of this, the reader need but cast his eye on the theatre
of the war. In following the coast of Flanders to enter France, you first
come to Fumes, and then to Dunkirk. These two towns, bathed on the one
hand by the ocean, on the other by the extensive marshes of the Grande-
Moer, have no communication with each other but by a narrow stripe of
land. The Duke of York arriving by Fumes, which is the first town you
come to on entering France, had placed himself on this stripe of land between
the Grande-Moer and the ocean, for the purpose of besieging Dunkirk. Frey-
tau's corps of observation was not at Furnes, so as to protect the rear of the
besieging army, but at a great distance in advance of the marshes and of Dun-
kirk, so as to intercept any succours that might come from the interior of
France. The Dutch troops of the Prince of Orange, posted at Menin, three
days' march from this point, became wholly useless. A mass of sixty thou-
sand men, marching rapidly between the Dutch and Freytag, might push on
to P urness, in the rear of the Duke of York, and, manoeuvring thus betwi
the three hostile corps, successively overwhelm Freytag, the Duke of York,
and the Prince of Orange. For this purpose a sinsrle iikiss and rapid mo\e-
inenUs were required. But then, nothing further was contemplated than
push on in front, by opposing to each detachment a similar force. The com-
292 HISTORY OF THE
mittee of public safety, however, had very nearly hit upon this plan. It had
ordered a single corps to be formed and marched upon Fumes. Houchard
seized the idea for a moment, but did not adhere to it, and thought of merely
marching against Freytag, driving him back upon the rear of the Duke of
York, and then endeavouring to disturb the operations of the siege.
While Houchard was hastening his preparations, Dunkirk made a vigor-
ous resistance. General Souham, seconded by young Hoche,* who behaved
in an heroic manner at this siege, had already repulsed several attacks. The
besiegers could not easily open the trenches in a sandy soil beneath which
they came to water at the depth of only three feet. The flotilla which was
to sail from the Thames to bombard the place had not arrived : and on the
other hand a French flotilla which had come from Dunkirk, and lay broad-
side-to along the coast, annoyed the besiegers, hemmed in on their Barron
neck of land, destitute of water fit to drink, and exposed to all sorts of dan-
gers. It was a case that called for despatch and for decisive blows. Hou-
chard arrived towards the end of August. Agreeably to the tactics of the
old school, he began by a demonstration upon Menin, which led to nothing
but a sanguinary and useless action. Having given this preliminary alarm,
he advanced by several roads towards the line of the Yser, a small stream
which separated him from Freytag's corps of observation. Instead of
placing himself between the corps of observation and the besieging corps,
he directed Hedouville to march upon Rousbrugghe, merely to hareae the re-
treat of Freytag upon Fumes, and went himself to meet Freytag in front,
by marchinsj with his whole army by Houtkerke, Herseele, and Bamb
Freytag had disposed his corps on a very extended line, and he had but part
of it around him when he received Houchard's first attack. He resisted at
Herseele; but, after a very warm action, he was obliged to recross the Yser,
and fall back upon Bambeke, and successively from Bambeke upon Rexpmde
iand Killem. In thus falling back beyond the Yser, he left his wings coat-
promised in advance. Walmoden's division was thrown to a great distance
from him on his right, and his own retreat was threatened near Rousbrugghe
by Hedouville.
* "Lazarc Hoche, general in the French revolutionary war, was born in 1764 at Mon-
iTeuil, near Versailles, where his father was keeper of the King's hounds. He entered the
army in his sixteenth year. At the beginning of the Revolution he joined the popular party,
and studied military science with great diligence. He was not twenty-four years old when
he received the command of the army of the Moselle. He defeated Wurmser, and drove the
Austrians out of Alsace. His frankness displeased St. Just, who depriveJ him of his com-
mand, and sent him a prisoner to Paris. The revolution of the 9th Thermidor saved liiin
from the guillotine. In 1795 Hoche was employed against the royalists in the West, where
he displayed great ability and humanity. He was one of the chief pacificators of La Vcn
He afterwards sailed for Ireland, but his scheme of exciting a disturbance there failed. On
his return he received the command of the army of the Sambrc and Meuse, in which
city he was frequently victorious over the enemy. Hoche died suddenly in the year 1797,
at Wetzlar, it was supposed, at the time, of puis >n." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
" The death of Hoche may be regarded as an event in our revolution. With his military
talent he combined extensive abilities of various kinds; and was a citizen as well a* n soldier.
When his death was made known, the public voice rose in an accusing outcry against the
Directory. I am satisfied that Hoche was the constant object of the hatred of a party, then
unfortunately powerful, though acting in the shade. I entertain a firm conviction also that
lie died by assassination." — Duchess (T Ahrantrs. E.
" Hoche, said Bonaparte, was one of the first generals that ever France produced. He was
brave, intelligent, abounding in talent, decisive, and penetrating. If he bad landed in Ire-
land he would have succeeded. He was accustomed to civil war. had pacified La VenJ6o
and was well adapted for Ireland. He had a fine, handsome figure, a good address, and was
prepossessing and intriguing." — A voice from St* Helena. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 293
Freytag then resolved on the same day to advance again and to retake
Rexptede, with a view to rally Walmoden's division to him. He arrived
there at the moment when the French were entering the place. A most ob-
stinate action ensued. Freytag was wounded and taken prisoner. Mean-
while evening came on. Houchard, apprehensive of a night attack, retired
from the village, leaving there only three battalions. Walmoden, who was
falling back with his compromised division, arrived at this moment, and re-
solved to make a brisk attack upon Rexpoede, in order to force a passage.
A bloody action was fought at midnight. The passage was cleared, Frey-
tag delivered, and the enemy retired en masse upon the village of Hondts-
choote. This village, situated between the Grande-Moer and the Fumes
road, was one of the points which must be passed in retiring upon Furnes
Houchard had relinquished the essential idea of manojuvring towards Furnes,
between the besieging corps and the corps of observation ; he had, therefore,
nothing to do but to continue to push Marshal Freytag in front, and to throw
himself against the village of Ilondtschoote. The 7th was spent in observ-
ing the enemy's positions, defended by very powerful artillery, and on the
8th the decisive attack was resolved upon. In the morning, the French
army advanced upon the whole line to attack the front. The right, under tin;
command of Hedouville, extended between Killem and Beveren ; the centre^
under Jourdan,* marched direct from Killem upon Hondtschoote ; the left
attacked between Killem and the canal of Furnes. The action commenced
in the copses which covered the centre. On both sides, the principal force
was directed upon this same point. The French returned several times to
the attack of the positions, and at length made themselves masters of them.
While they were victorious in the centre, the intrenchments were carried on
the riirht, and the enemy determined to retreat upon Furnes by the Houthera,
and Hoghestade roads.
During these transactions at Hondtschoote, the garrison of Dunkirk, under
the conduct of Hoche, made a vigorous sortie, and placed the besiegers in
the greatest danger. Next day, they actually held a council of war; finding
themselvi iod on the rear, and seeing that the naval armament which
was to be employed in bombarding the place had not arrived, they resolved
* " Jean Baptiste Jourdan, born in 1 762 at Limoges, where his father practised as a surgeon,
entered the army in 1778, and fought in America. After the peace he employed himself in
commerce. In 1793 he was appointed general of division, and, in the battle of Hondtschoote,
mounted the enemy's works at the head of his troops, and afterwards received the command
of ihe army in the place of Houchard. In 179-1 lie gained the victory of the Fleurus, by
which he became master of Beltrium, and drove the allies behind the Rhine. In 1796 he
undertook the celebrated invasion of the right bank, of the Rhine, in which he conquered
Franconia, ami pressed forward towards Bohemia and Ratisbon. The Archduke Charles,
however, defeated him, and his retreat became a disorderly flight, whereupon Beurnonville
took the command, and Jourdan retired to Limoges as a private individual. In 1797 he was
chosen a member of the council of Five Hundred, and was twice their president, remaining a
!i friend to the republic. After the revolution of the 18th Brumaire, which he opposed,
he received the command <•! Piedmont. In the year 1803 Napoleon named him general-
in-chief of the army of Italy, and. in the following year, marshal of France, and grand i
of the Legion of Honour. In 1808 he went with Kin^ Joseph, as major-general, to Spain,
and, after the decisive battle of Vittoria, lived in retirement at Rouen. In 1815 he took tho
outh of allegiance to Louis, arnLwhcn the latter left France, retired to his seat. Napoleon
then made him a peer, and intrusted him with tin- defence of Mesan^on. After the return
of Louis, JourJan was one of the fn>l to declare for him; and in 181'J the King raised him
to the peerage. Jourdan belonged to the party of liberal constitutionalists." — Encyckrpxdiu
Americana, E.
2b2
294 HISTORY OF THE
to raise the siege and retire upon Furnes, where Freytag had just arrived.
They joined there in the evening of the 9th of September.
Such Mere those three actions the result of which had been to oblige the
corps of observation to fall back upon the rear of the besieging corps, by fol-
lowing a direct march. The last conflict gave name to this operation, and
the batde of Hondtschoote was considered as the salvation of Dunkirk.
This operation, indeed, broke the long chain of our reverses in the North,
gave a personal check to the English, disappointed their fondest wishes,
saved the republic from the misfortune which it would have felt the most
keenly, and gave great encouragement to France.
The victory of Hondtschoote produced great joy in Paris, inspired all our
youth with greater ardour, and excited hopes that our energy might prove
successful. Reverses are, in fact, of little consequence, provided that suc-
cess be mingled with them, and impart hope and courage to the vanquished.
The alternative has but the effect of increasing the energy, and exalting the
enthusiasm of the resistance.
While the Duke of York was occupied with Dunkirk, Coburg had resolved
to attack Le Quesnoy. That fortress was in want of all the means necessary
for its defence, and Coburg pressed it very closely. The committee of pub-
lic welfare, not neglecting that portion of the frontier any more than the
others, had immediately issued orders that columns should march from
Landrecies, Cambrai, and Maubeuge. Unluckily these columns could not
act at the same time. One of them was shut up in Landrecies ; another,
surrounded in the plain of Avesne, and formed into a square battalion,
broken, after a most honourable resistance. At length, on the 11th of Sep-
tember, Le Quesnoy was obliged to capitulate. This loss was of little
importance compared with the deliverance of Dunkirk, but it mixed up some
bitterness with the joy which the latter event had just produced.
Houchard, after obliging the Duke of York to concentrate himself at Furnes
with Freytag, could not make any further successful attempt on that point.
All that he could do was to throw himself with equal forces on soldiers more
inured to war, without any of those circumstances, either favourable or
urgent, which induce a commander to hazard a doubtful battle. In this situ-
ation, the best step he could take was to fall upon the Dutch, divided into
several detachments round Menin, Ilalluin, Roncq, Werwike, and Ypres.
Houchard, acting prudently, ordered the camp at Lille to make a sortie upon
Menin, while he should himself act by Ypres. The advanced pos
Wernicke, Boncq, and Ilalluin, were contested for two days. On both
- great intrepidity was displayed with a moderate degree of intelligence.
The Prince of Orange, though pressed on all sides, and having lost his
advanced post, made an obstinate resistance, because he had been apprizi d
of the surrender of Le Quesnoy and the approach of Beaulieu, who
bringing him succour. At length, on the 13th of September, he was obliged
to evacuate Menin, after losing in these1 different actions two or three thou-
sand men and forty pieces of cannon. Though our army had not derived
I its position all the advantages that it might have (lone, and though,
contrary to the instructions of the, committee of public welfare, it had ope-
rated in too divided masxs. it nevertheless occupied Menin. On the 10th
il left Menin and marched upon Courtray. At llisseghem it fell in with
Beaulieu. The battle began with advantage on our side; but all at once the
appearance of a eor dry on the wings spread an alarm which
not founded on any real danger. The whole army was thrown into confu-
sion, and fled to Menin. This inconceivable panic did not stop there. ]\
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 295
was communicated to all the camps, to all the posts, and the army en masse
sought refuge under the guns of Lille. This terror, the example of which
was not new, which was owing to the youth and inexperience of our troops,
perhaps also to a perfidious Sauve qui peut, occasioned us the loss of the
greatest advantages, and brought us back beneath the walls of Lille. The
tidings of this event, on reaching Paris, produced the most gloomy impres-
sion, deprived Houchard of the fruit of his victory, and excited the most
violent invectives against him, some of which even recoiled upon the com-
mittee of public welfare itself. A fresh series of checks immediately followed,
and threw us into the same perilous position from which we had been extri-
cated for a moment by the victory of Hondtschoote.
The Prussians and Austrians, placed on the two slopes of the Vosges,
facing our two armies of the Moselle and the Rhine, began at length to make
some serious attempts. Old Wurmser, more ardent than the Prussians, and
aware of the advantage of the passes of the Vosges, resolved to occupy the
important post of Bodenthal, towards the Upper Lauter. He hazarded,
however, a corps of four thousand men, which, after traversing frightful
mountains, took possession of Bodenthal. The representatives with the
army of the Rhine, yielding on their part to the general impulse which
everywhere stimulated the troops to redoubled energy, resolved upon a
general sortie from the lines of Weissenburg, for the 12th of September.
The three generals, Desaix,* Dubois, and Michaud, pushed at once against
the Austrians, made useless efforts, and were obliged to return to the lines.
The attempts directed in particular against the Austrian corps at Bodertthal,
were completely repulsed. Preparations were nevertheless made for a new
attack on the 14th. While General Ferrette was to march upon Bodenthal,
the army of the Moselle, acting upon the other slope, was to attack Pirma-
sens, which corresponds with Bodenthal, and where Brunswick was posted
with part of the Prussian army. The attack of General Ferrette was com-
pletely successful. The soldiers assaulted the Austrian positions with heroic
temerity, took them, and recovered the important defile of Bodenthal. But
on the opposite slope fortune was not equally favourable. Brunswick was
sensible of the importance of Pirmasens, which closed the defiles ; he pos-
sessed considerable forces, and was in excellent position. While the army
of the Moselle was making head upon the Savre against the rest of the
• " Louis Charles Antoine Desaix de Voygoux, was born in 17C8, of a noble family, and
entered the regiment of Bretagnc in 1784 as sub-lieutenant. He contributed in 1793 to the
capture of the Haguenau lines, which the left wing, where he was stationed, first broke
through. In the year 1795 he served in the army of the North under Pichegru, and repeat-
edly distinguished himself. In 1798 he accompanied Bonaparte to Egypt; and, on his return
to France, hastened to join the First Consul in Italy, where he contributed to the victory of
Marengo, in which battle he was mortally wounded." — Encijlcpwdia Americanu. E.
"Deaaix, said Bonaparte, was wholly wrapped up in war and glory. To him richea and
pleasure wer<- valueless. He was a little, black-looking man, about an inch shorter than I
am, always badly dressed, sometimes even ragged, and despising comfort and convenience.
Wrapped up in his cloak, he would throw himself under a gun, and sleep as contentedly as
if he were in a palace. Upright and honest in all his proceedings, he was called by the Arabs
the Just 8ultan. Desaix was intended by nature for a great general." — A Voice from St.
Helena. E.
"Deaaix was a man for whom the First Consul had a high esteem, and whose talents and
character afforded the fairest promise of what might one day be expected from him. Napo-
leon was jealous of some generals, but Desaix gave him no uneasiness : equally remarkable
for his unassuming disposition, his talent, and his information, he proved by his couduct that
he loved glory for its own sake. Bonaparte's friendship for him was enthusiastic." — Hour-
rienne. E.
296 HISTORY OF THE
Prussian army, twelve thousand men were thrown from TTornbach upon
Pirmasens. The only hope of the Preach was to take Pirmasens by sur-
prise, but, being perceived and fired upon with grape-shot at their first
approach, the best thing they could do was to retire. So thought the gene-
rals, but the representatives opposed that intention, and ordered an attack
in three columns and by three ravines, terminating at the height on which
Pirmasens is seated. Our soldiers, urged on by their bravery, had aln
far advanced; the column on the right was indeed on the point of clearing
the ravine and turning Pirmasens, when a double lire poured upon both
flanks unexpectedly stopped it. Our soldiers at first resisted, but the fire
became more fierce, and they were forced to return through the ravine which
they had entered. The other columns fell hack in like manner, and all fled
along the valleys in the utmost disorder. The army was obliged to return
to the post from which it had started. Very fortunately the Pr gsiana did
not think of pursuing it, nor even of occupying its camp at Hornbach, which
it had quitted to march upon Pirmasens. In this affair we lost twenty-two
pieces of cannon, and four thousand men. killed, wounded, or prisoi
This check of the 14th of September was likely to be of great importance.
The allies, encouraged by success, began to think of using all their foi
and prepared to march upon the Sarre and the Lauter, and thus to drive us
ouf of the lines of Weissenburg.
The siege of Lyons was proceeding slowly. The Piedmontese, in de-
bouching by the high Alps into the valleys of Savoy, had made a diversion,
and obliged Dubois-C ranee and Kellermann to divide their forces, Keller-
mann had marched into Savoy. Dubois-C ranee, continuing before L'
with insufficient means, poured in vain showers of iron and of tire upon
unfortunate city, which, resolved to endure all extremities, was no. ,
be reduced by the horrors of blockade and bombardment, but only by assault
At the Pyrenees we had just received a sanguinary cheek. Our troops.
had remained since the late events in the environs- of Perpiirnan. The S
niards were in their camp at Mas-d'Eu. In considerable force, inured to
war, and commanded by an able general, they were full of ardour and li
We have already described the theatre of the war. The two nearly parallel
valleys of the Tech and of the Tet run off from the great chain and terminate
near the sea. Perpignan is in the second of these valleys. Ricardos had
passed the first line, that of the Tech, since he was at Mas-d'Eo, and lie had
resolved to pass the Tet considerably above Perpignan, so as t > turn thai
place and to force our army to abandon it. For this purpose, ho pro|
first to take Villefranche. This little fortress, situated on the uppi
of the Tet, would secure his left wing against the brave Dagobert, who, with
three thousand men, was gaining advantages in Cerdagne. Accordingly,
early in August, he detached General Qrespo with some battalions. The
latter had only to make his appearance before Villefranche ; the commandant,
in a cowardly manner, abandoned the fortress to him. Crespo, having left
a garrison there, rejoined Ricardoa. Meanwhile Dagobert, with a very small
corps, overran the whole Cerdagne, compelled the Spaniards •
far as the Seu-d'Urgel, anil even thought of driving them to Camprodon.
Owing, however, to the weakness of the detachment, and the fortress of
Villefranche, RlCtfdOfl felt no uneasiness about the advantage* obtained over
his left wing, lie persisted, therefore, in the offensive. On the Hist of
August, he threatened the French camp under Perpignan, and cr<
Tet above the Soler, driving before him our right wing, which fell back to
Salces, a few leagues in the rear of Perpignan, and close to the sea. In this
* FRENCH REVOLUTION. 297
position, the French, some shut up in Perpignan, the other! harked upon
Salces. having the sea behind them, were in a most dangerous situation.
Dagobert, it is true, was gaining fresh advantages in the (Yrdagne, but too
unimportant to alarm Ricardos. The representatives, Fabre and Cassatgne,
who liad retired with the army to Salces, resolved to call Dagobert to super-
sede Barbantanes, with a view to bring fortune back to our arms. Whilst
awaiting the arrival of the new general, they planned a combined movement
between Salces and Perpignan, for the purpose of extricating themselves
from the unfortunate situation in which they were. They ordered a column
to advance from Perpignan and to attack the Spaniards in the rear, while
they woidd leave their positions and attack them in front. Accordingly, on
the 15th of September, General Davoust* marched from Perpignan with six
or seven thousand men, while Perignon advanced from Salces upon the Spa-
niards. At a concerted signal they fell on both sides upon the enemy's
camp. The Spaniards, pressed on all quarters, were obliged to fly across
the Tet, leaving behind them twenty-six pieces of cannon. They imme-
diately returned to the camp at Mas-d'Eu, whence they had set out for these
bold but unfortunate operations.
Durinff these occurrences, Dagobert arrived ; and that officer, possessing
at the ajre of seventy-five the fire of a young man, together with the consum-
mate prudence of a veteran general, lost no time in marking his arrival by an
attempt on the camp of Mas-d'Eu. He divided his attack into three columns :
one, starting from our right, and marching by Thuir to St. Colombe, was to
turn the Spaniards ; the second, acting on the centre, was ordered to attack
them in front, and drive them back ; and the third, operating on the left, was
to place itself in a wood, and to cut off their retreat. This last, commanded
by Davoust, had scarcely attacked, before it fled in disorder. The Spaniards
were then able to direct all their forces against the two other columns of the
centre and of the right. Ricardos, judging that all the danger was on the
riijht, opposed his main force to it, and repulsed the French on that side. In
the centre alone, Dagobert, animating all by his presence, carried the in-
trenchments which were before him, and was even on the point of deciding
the victory, when Ricardos, returning with the troops victorious on the right
and left, overwhelmed his enemy with his whole united force. Dagobert
nevertheless made a brave resistance, when a battalion threw down its arms,
shouting Vive It Roil The enraged Dagobert ordered two pieces of cannon
to be turned upon the traitors, and, while these were playing upon them, he
rallied round him some of the brave fellows who yet remained faithful, and"
retired with a few hundred men ; the enemy, intimidated by his bold front,
not daring to pursue him.
• "Louis Nicholas Davoust was born in 1770 of a noble family, and studied with Bona-
parte in the military school of Brienne. He distinguished himself under Dumouriez, and in
the year 1793 was made general. In the Italian campaigns under Napoleon, he zealously
attached himself to the First Consul, whom he accompanied to Egypt. After the battle of
Marengo, Davoust was made chief of the grenadiers of the consular guard. When Napoleon
ascended the throne in 1804, he created Davoust marshal of the empire, and grand cross of
the legion of Honour. In 1806 he created him Duke of Auerstadt, and after the peace of
Tulsit, commander-in-chief of the army of the Khinc. Having had an important share in the
victories of Eckmuhl and Wagram, Davoust was created prince of the former place. He
accompanied Napoleon to Russia; and in 1813 was besieged in Hamburg, where he lost
eleven thousand men, and wus accused of great cruelty. On the Emperor's return to Paris,
in 1815, he was appointed minister of war. After the battle of Waterloo he submitted to
Louis XVIII., and was subsequently employed by the court. Davoust died in the year 1823,
leaving a son and two daughters." — Encyclopedia Americana. E.
vol. H. — 38
298 • HISTORY OF THE
This gallant general had assuredly deserved laurels only by his firmness
amidst such a reverse ; for, had his left column behaved better, and his centre
battalions not disbanded themselves, his dispositions would have been
attended with complete success. The jealous distrust of the representatives,
nevertheless, imputed to him this disaster. Indignant at this injustice, he
returned to resume the subordinate command in the Cerdagne. Our army
was, therefore, again driven back to Perpignan, and likely to lose the im-
portant line of the Tet.
The plan of campaign of the 2d of September was carried into execution
in La Vendee. The division of Mayence was, as we have seen, to art by
Nantes. The committee of public welfare, which had received alarming
intelligence concerning the designs of the English upon the West, entirely
approved of the idea of directing the principal force towards the coast.
Rossignol and his party were extremely mortified at this, and the letters
which they wrote to the minister afforded no hope of any great zeal on their
part in seconding the plan agreed upon. The division of Mayence man-bed
to Nantes, where it was received with great demonstrations of joy and
tivities. An entertainment was prepared, and, before the troops went to par-
take of it, a prelude was made by a sharp skirmish with the hostile parties
spread over the banks of the Loire. If the division of Nantes was glad to
be united to the celebrated army of Mayence, the latter was not less delighted
to serve under the brave Canclaux, and with his division, which had already
signalized itself by the defence of Nantes and by a great number of honour-
able feats. According to the adopted plan, columns start ing from all the
points of the theatre of war were to unite in the centre, and to crush the
enemy there. Canclaux, commanding the army of Brest, \v;is to march from
Nantes, to descend the left bank of the Loire, to turn round the extensive
lake of Grand-Lieu, to sweep Lower Vendee, and then to ascend again
towards Machecoul, and to be at Leger between the 11th and the 13th. His
arrival at the latter point was to be the signal for the departure of the columns
of the army of La Rochclle, destined to assail the country from the south
and east.
It will be recollected that the army of La Rochelle, of which Rossi gnol was
commander-in-chief, was composed of several divisions: that of Les Sables
was commanded by Mieszkousky, that of Luc,on by Ueffroy, that of Niort
by Chalbos, that of Saumur by Santerre, that of Angers by Dnhoux. Tbe
column of Les Sables had orders to move the moment Canclaux should be
'at Leger, and to arrive on the 13th at St. Fulgent, on the 14th at Her1
and on the Kith to join Ganclaux at Morta^ne. The columns of 1/
and Niort were to advance, supporting one another, towards Hressuire an
gen ton, and to reach those parts on the 1 1th; lastly, the columns of Saumur
and An»crs, (ratting the Loire, were to arrive also on the 11th in the envi-
rons of Yihi'Ts and Chetnilh'. Thus, according to this- plan, the whole
country was to he scoured from the 1 1th to the 10th, and the rebels Wl
be enclosed by the republican columns between Mortagne, Bressuire,
genton, Vihiers, and ('hcmille. Their destruction would then be inevitable.
We have already seen that, having been twice repulsed from Luc, on with
considerable loss, the Vendeana had it much at heart to take their revenge.
They collected in force before the' republican* had time to carry their plans
into execution, and while Charette' attacked the camp of Les Naudieres
• "Charette was the only individual to whom Napoleon attached particular importance.
I have read a history of La Vendee, said lie to me, and if the details and portrait* are cor-
rect, Charette was the only great character — the true hero of that remarkable episode in our
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 299
towards Nantes, they attacked the division of Lu$on, which had ad\
to Chantonav. These two attempts were made on the 5th of September.
That of GharettB on Lea Naodien was repulsed; but the attack on Chan-
tonay, unforeseen and well-directed, threw the republicans' into the greatest
disorder. ' The young and gallant Marceau performed prodigies to prevent
a disaster; bat his division, after losing its baggage and its artillery, retired
in confusion to Lucon. This check was likely to derange the projected
plan, because the disorganization of one of the columns would leave a chasm
between the division of !,es Sables and that of Niort; but the representa-
tives made the most active etl'orts for reorganizing it, and couriers were
despatched to Rossignol to apprize him of the event.
All the Vendi ans were at this moment collected at Les Herbiers around
the nineralissimo d'Elbee. Discord prevailed among them as among their
adversaries, tor the human heart is everywhere the same, and nature does
not reserve disinterestedness and the virtues for one party, leaving pride,
selfishness, and the vices to the other. Tlfp Vendean chiefs had their
mutual jealousies, as well as the republican chiefs. The generals paid hut
little deference to the superior council, which affected a sort of sovereignty.
Ming the real strength, they were by no means disposed to yield the
command to a power which owed' to themselves its factitious existence.
They were, moreover, envious of d'Elbee, the generalissimo, and alleged
that Bonchainps was much better qualified for the supreme command.
Charette, for his part, wished to remain sole master of Lower Vendee.
There was, consequently, but little disposition among them to unite and to
concert a plan in opposition to that of the republicans. An intercepted
despatch had made them acquainted with the intentions of their enemies.
Bomhamps was the only one who proposed a bold project, and which indi-
cated comprehensive views. He was of opinion that it would not be possi-
ble to resist much longer the forces of the republic collected in La Vendee ;
that it behoved them to quit their woods and ravines, in which they would
be everlastingly buried, without knowing their allies, or being known by
revolution. He impressed me with the idea of a great man. He betrayed genius. I re-
plied, that I had known Charette very well in my youth, am) that his brilliant exploits
astonished, all who had formerly heen acquainted with him. We looked on him as a com-
monplace sort of man, devoid of information, ill-tempered, and extremely indolent. When,
however, lie began to rise into celebrity, his early friends recollected a circumstance which
certainly indicated decision of character. When Charette was first called into service
daring the American rrar, he sailed out of Brest on hoard a cutter during the winter. The
cutter last her mast, and to a vessel of that description, such an accident was equivalent to
certain destruction. The weather was stormy — death seemed inevitable — and the sailors,
throwing themselves on their knees, lost all presence of mind, and refused to exert them-
selves. At this crisis, Charette, notwithstanding his extreme youth, killed one of the men,
in order to compel the rest to do their duty. This dreadful example had the desired effect,
and the ship • lid the emperor, here was the spark that distinguished the
hero of La \ endie. Men's dispositions ;ire often misunderstood. There are sleepers
whose (raking is terrible. Charette Was one of these.*— Las Case*. E.
* "The lllues again occupied Chantonav. We were much distressed at seeing them
thus established in the Bocage. A new plan was concerted with M. de Royrand. Ho
false attack towards the four roads, while the grand army, making a groat circuit,
I the republican rearguard towards the bridge of Charron. The victory was due to
Bonchamp's division, which, with great intrepidity, carried the intrenchments. Thus sur-
rounded, the defeat of the Blues was terrible. The irreat roads were intercepted, ami theii
columns bewildered in the Bocage. They lost both their cannon and baggage, and seldom
had si. .at a loss of men. A battalion that Jean assumed the name of the
id had never given quarter to any Vendean, was wholly extertninatcd."-
ilemuirs of the Marchioness de I, I'm. E.
300 HISTORY OF THE
them ; he insisted consequently that, instead of exposing themselves to the
risk of being destroyed, it would be better to march in close column from
La Vendee, and to advance, into Bretagne, where they were desired, and
where the republic did not expect to be struck. He proposed that they
should proceed to the coast, and secure a seaport, communicate with the
English, receive an emigrant prince there, then start for Paris, and thus
carry on an offensive and decisive war. This advice, which is attributed to
Bonchamps, was not followed by the Vendeans, whose views were still so
narrow, and whose repugnance to leave their own country was still so Btr
Their chiefs thought only of dividing that country into four parts, that tiny
might reign over them individually. Charette was to have Lower Vendee,
M. de Bonchamps the banks of the Loire towards Aimers. M. de I.aroche-
Jacquelein the remainder of Upper Anjou, M. de Lescure the whole insur-
gent portion of Poitou. M. d'Elbee w'as to retain his useless tide of
generalissimo, and the superior council its factitious authority.
On the 9th, Canclaux pu$ himself in motion, leaving a strong reserve
under the command of Grouchy* and Haxot for the protection of Nantes,
and despatched the Mayence column towards Leger. Meanwhile, the
former army of Brest, under Beysser, making the circuit of Lower Vendee
by Pornic, Bourneuf, and Machecoul, was to rejoin the Mayence column
at Leger.
These movements, directed by Canclaux, were executed without impedi-
ment. The Mayence column, its advanced guard commanded by Kleber,
and the main body by Aubert-Dubayet, drove all its enemies before it.
Kleber, with the advanced guard, equally humane and heroic, encamped his
troops out of the villages to prevent devastations. " In passing the beauti-
ful lake of Grand-Lieu," said he, " we had delightful landscapes and s.-cie rv
equally pleasing and diversified. In an immense pasture strolled at random
numerous herds left entirely to themselves. I could not help lamenting the
fate of those unfortunate inhabitants, who, led astray and imbued with fana-
ticism by their priests, refused the benefits offered by a new order of things
to run into certain destruction." Kleber made continual efforts to pr
the country against the soldiers, and most frequently with success. A civil
commission had been added to the staff, to carry into execution the decree
of the 1st of August, which directed that the country should be laid w
and the inhabitants removed to other places. The soldiers were forbidden
• "Emanuel, Count de Grouchy, born in 1769, entered the army at the age of fourteen.
On the breaking out of the Revolution, he showed his attachment to liberal principle*, and
served in the campaign of 1792 as commander of a regiment of dragoons. He was after-
wards sent to La Vendue, where he distinguished himself on several occasions. In 1 7 1* T
he was appointed second in command of the army destined for the invasion of Ireland, but
was compiled to return to France without effecting anything. In 1799 he contributed to
Moreau's victories in Germany, and the battle of Hohcnlinden was gained chiefly by his
skill and courage. During the campaign in Russia, Grouchy commanded one of the three
cavalry corps of the grand army ; and was rewarded with the marshal's baton fur hi.-s bril-
liant services in the campaign of 1814. After the restoration, he joined .Napoleon on his
return from Elba, and was accused by him of being the author of the defeat at Waterloo, by
permitting two divisions of the Prussian army under Blucher to join lb* Bagfah force*.
Grouchy was afterwards ordered to !>e arrested by the ordinance of 1815. in consequence
of which he retired to the United States, where he remained until he received permission to
return to France." — Enct/clnptedia Americana, E.
■j- "The republican general Haxo was a man of great military talent. He distinguished
himself in the Vendean war, but in the year 17 '.H, shot himself through the head, when he
saw his army defeated by the insurgents, rather than encounter the vengeance of the Con
venUon." — Scott's Life of Napoleon.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 301
ever to burn anything, and it was only by tbo orders of the generals and of
the civil commission that the means of destruction were to in- employed,
On die 1 4th, the Mayence column arrived at Leger, and was there j<
by that of 43 rest under the command of Beysser. Meanwhile the column of
Lee Sables, under Mieszkousky, bad advanced to St. Fulgent, according to
the concerted plan, and already given a band to the army of Canclaux. That
of Lucon, delayed lor a moment by its defeat at Cbantonay, was behind its
time ; hut thanks to the zeal of the representatives, who bad given it a new
general, Beffroy, it was again advancing. That of Niort had reached La
Chataigneraie. Thus, though the general movement had been retarded for
a day or two on all the points, and though Canclaux had not arrived till the
14th at Leger, where he ought to have been on the 12th, still the delay was
common to all the columns, their unity was not destroyed, and there was
nothing to prevent the prosecution of the plan of campaign. But, in this
interval of time, the news of the defeat sustained by the Lucon division had
reached Saumur ; Rossignol, Ronsin, and the whole of the staff had taken
alarm ; and, apprehensive that similar accidents might befall the two other
columns of Niort and Les Sables, whose force they suspected, they deter-
mined to order them to return immediately to their first posts. This order
was most imprudent ; yet it was not issued with the wilful design of unco-
vering Canclaux and exposing his wings: but those from whom it emanated
bad little confidence in his plan ; they were well disposed, on the slightest
obstacle to deem it impossible, and to give it up. It was no doubt this feel-
ing that determined the staff of Saumur to order the retrograde movement of
the columns of Niort, Lucon, and Les Sables.
Canclaux, pursuing his march, had made fresh progress ; he had attacked
Montaigu on three points. Kleber by the Nantes road, Aubert-Dubayet by
that of Roche-Serviere, and Beysser by that of St. Fulgent, had fallen upon
it all at once, and had soon dislodged the enemy. On the 17th, Canclaux
took Clisson, and, not perceiving that Rossignol was yet acting, he resolved
to halt, and to confine himself to reconnoissances till he should receive
further intelligence.
Canclaux, therefore, established himself in the environs of Clisson, left
Beysser at Montaigu, and pushed forward Kleber with the advanced guard
to Torfou. Such was the state of things on the 18th. The counter-orders
given from Saumur had reached the Niort division, and been communicated
to the two other divisions of Lucon and Les Sables ; they had immediately
turned back, and, by their retrograde movement, thrown the Vendeans into
astonishment, and Canclaux into the greatest embarrassment. The Ven-
deans were about a hundred thousand men under arms. There was an im-
mense number of them towards Vibiers and Chemille\ facing the columns of
Saumur and Angers. There was a still greater number about Clisson and
Montaigu, on Canelaux's hands. The columns of Angers and Saumur,
seeing them so numerous, said that it was the Mayence army which threw
them upon their hands, and inveighed against the plan which exposed them
to the attack of so formidable an enemy. This, however, was not the case.
The Vendeans were on foot in sufficient number to find employment for the
republicans in every quarter. On the same day, instead of throwing them-
selves upon Rossignol's columns, they advanced upon Canclaux ; and d'El-
bee and Lescure quitted Upper Vendee with the intention of marching
against the army of Mayence.
By a singular complication of circumstances, Rossignol, on learning the
success of Canclaux, who had penetrated into the vcrv heart of La Vendee,
2C
302 HISTORY OF THE
countermanded his first orders for retreat, and directed his columns to advance.
The columns of Saumur and Angers, being nearest to him, acted first and
skirmished, the one at Doue, the other at the Ponts-de-Ce. The advantages
were equal. On the 18th, the column of Saumur, commanded by Santi
attempted to advance from Vihiers to a small village railed Coron. Ov.
to faulty dispositions, artillery, cavalry, and infantry, were confusedly
crowded together in the streets of this village. Santerre endeavoured to
repair this blunder, and ordered the troops to fall back, with the intention
of drawing them up in order of battle on a height. Hut Ronsin, who, in the
absence of Rossignol, arrogated to himself a superior authority, found fault
with Santerre for ordering the retreat, and opposed it. At this moment the
Vendeans rushed upon the republicans, and the whole division was thrown
into the most frightful disorder.* It contained many men of the new con-
tingent raised with the tocsin ; these dispersed : all were hurried awav, and
fled in confused from Coron to Vihiers, Doue, and Saumur. On the follow-
ing day, the 19th, the Vendeans advanced against the Angers division, com-
manded by Duhoux. As fortunate as the day before, they drove back the
republicans beyond Erigne and once more possessed themselves of the
Ponts-de-Ce.
In the quarter were Canclaux was, the fighting was not less brisk. On
the same day, twenty thousand Vendeans, posted in the environs of Torfou,
rushed upon Kleber's advanced guard, consisting at most of two thousand
men. Kleber placed himself in the midst of his soldiers, and supported
them against this host of assailants. The ground on which the action took
place was a road commanded by heights ; in spite of the disadvantage of the
position, here tired with order and firmness. Meanwhile a ] trtil-
lery was dismounted , some confusion then ensued in his battalions, and
those brave fellows were giving way for the first time. At this sisrht, Kle-
ber, in order to stop the enemy, placed an officer with a few soldiers at a
bridge, saying, " My lads, defend this passage to your last gasp." This
order they executed with admirable heroism. In the meantime the main
body came up and renewed the combat. The Vendeans were at length
* " M. de Piron opposed Santerre at the head of twelve thousand men ; the Blues
marched from Coron upon Vihiers, and their army, forty thousand strong, the most part from
levies en masse, occupied a line of four leagues along the great road. M. de Piron. observing
the error of this disposition, attacked with vigour the centre of the republicans, and after an
hour and a half's fighting, succeeded in cutting their line and throwing them into disorder.
Their artillery filing off" at that moment through a long and narrow street of Coron, M. de
Piron instantly secured it, by placing troops at each end of the vilhue, and the rout became
complete. The enemy were followed for four miles, and lost eighteen cannon and their
waggons. It was somewhere about this period that the republicans found the dead body of
a woman, about whom a great deal was said in the newspapers. A short time previously to
the engagement at Coran, a soldier accosted me at Boulaye, saying he had a secret to confide
to me. It was a woman, who said her name was Jeanne Robin, and that she was from
Courlay. The vicar of that parish to whom I wrote, answered, that she was a very nood
girl, but that he had been unable to dissuade her from being a soldier. The evening l>
one of our battles, 6he sought for M. de Lescure, and addressing him, said. ' General, I am a
woman. To-morrow there is to be a battle, let me but have a pair of shoes ; 1 am sure I shall
fight so that you will not send me away.' She indeed fought under Leacurafr eve. and
called to him, ' General, you must not pass me; I shall always be nearer the Blues than
you!' She was wounded in the hand, but this only animated her the more, and, rushing
furiously into the thick of the conflict, she perished. There were in other divisions a few
women who also fought, disguised as men. I saw two sisters, fourteen and fifteen years old,
who were very courageous. In the army of M. de Bonchamp, a young woman became a
dragoon to avenge the death of her father, and during the war performed prodigies of valour."
— Memoirs of the Marchioness de Larochejaquclein. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 303
repulsed, driven to a great distance, and punished for their transient ad-
vantage.*
All these events had occurred on the 19th. The order to advance, which
had so ill succeeded with the two divisions of Saumur and Angers, had not
reached the columns of I, neon and Niort, on account of the distance.
is still at Montaigu, forming the right of Canclaux, and finding
himself uncovered. Canclaux, with a view to place Beysser under cover,
ordered him to leave Montaigu and draw nearer to the main body. Ho
directed Kleber to advance towards Ihvsser, in order to protect his move-
ment. Beysser, too negligent, had left his column ill-guarded at Montaign.
Messrs. de Lescure and Charette had proceeded thither ; they surprised and
would have annihilated it but for the intrepidity of two battalions, which by
their firmness checked the rapidity of the pursuit and of the retreat. The
artillery and the baggage were lost, and the wrecks of this column fled to
Nantes, where they were received by the brave reserve left to protect the
place. Canclaux then resolved to fall back, that he might not be left alone
en fh-che in the country, exposed to all the attacks of the Vendeans. Accord-
ingly, he retreated upon Nantes with his brave Maycncais, who had not
suffered, owing to their imposing attitude, and to the refusal of Charette to
join Messrs d'Elbee and Bonchamps in the pursuit of the republicans.
The cause which had prevented the success of this new expedition against
La Vendee is evident. The staff of Saumur had been dissatisfied with a
plan which allotted the Mayence column to Canclaux. The check of the
5th of September furnished it with a sufficient pretext for being disheartened
and relinquishing that plan. A counter-order was immediately issued to the
columns of Les Sables, Lucon, and La Rochelle. Canclaux, who had suc-
cessfully advanced, found himself thus uncovered, and the check at Torfou
rendered his position still more difficult. Meanwhile, the army of Saumur,
on receiving intelligence of its progress, marched from Saumur and Angers
to Vihiers and Chcmille, and, had it not so suddenly dispersed, it is proba-
ble that the retreat of the wings would not have prevented the success of the
enterprise. Thus, too great promptness in relinquishing the proposed plan,
the defective organization of the new levies, and the great force of the Ven-
deans, who amounted to more than one hundred thousand under arms, were
the causes of these new reverses. But there was neither treason on the part
of the staff of Saumur, nor folly in the plan of Canclaux. The effect of
these reverses was disastrous, for the new resistance of La Vendee awaken-
ed all the hopes of the counter-revolutionists, and exceedingly arrtjravated
the perils of the republic. Lastly, if the armies of Brest and Mayence
* " At the head of three thousand men, M. de Lescure succeeded in maintaining the battle
of Torfou for two hours. This part of the country, the most unequal and woody of the Bo-
cage, did not allow the Maycneais to observe how weak a force was opposed to them before
Bonchamp's division arrived, and Charette and the other chiefs had succeeded in rallying
those who had fled on the first onset. They then spread themselves round the left of ihe
republicans, whose columns entangled in deep and intricate roads, were exposed to the fire
of the Vendeans. The courage of the republican officers would scarcely have saved them,
had not Kleber, after a retreat of about a league, placed two pieces of cannon on the bridge
of Boussay, and said to a colonel, ' You and your battalion must die here.' — ' Yes, general,'
replied the brave man, and perished on the spot. This allowed Kleber time to rally the
Mayencais, so as to stop the career of the Vendeans, who proceeded no further. The next
day Uharette and Lescure attacked (ieneral Beysser at .MonUiijru to proven! his junction with
the Mayencais, and completely defeated him. The panic of the republicans was such that
they could not be rallied nearer than Nantes." — Memoirs of {/if Murc/iioneat de Larocheja-
tjuthin. E.
304 HISTORY OF THE
had not been shaken by them, that of La Rochelle was once more
ganized, and all the contingents proceeding from the levy era
returned to their homes, carrying the deepest discouragement along with
them.
The two parties in the army lost no time in accusing one another. Philip-
peaux, always the most ardent, sent to the committee of public welfare a letter
full of indignation, in which lie attributed to treason the counter-order given
to the columns of the army of La Rochelle. Choudieu and Richard, commis-
sioners at Saumur, wrote answers equally vehement, and Ronsin went to the
minister and to the committee of public welfare, to denounce the faults of the
plan of campaign. Canclaux, he said, by causing too strong masses to act
by Lower Vendee, had driven the whole insurgent population into I
Vendee, and occasioned the defeat of the columns of Saumur and A
Lastly, Ronsin, returning calumnies with calumnies, replied to die c
of treason by that of aristocracy, and denounced at once the two arm
Brest and Mayence as full of suspicious and evil-disposed men. Thus the
quarrel of the Jacobin party with that which was in favour of discipline and
regular warfare became more and more acrimonious.
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
t*
ATTACKS ON THE COMMITTEE OF PUBLIC WELFARE— INSTITUTION"
OF THE REVOLUTIONARY GOVERNMENT— ORDERS TO THE ARMIES
TO CONQUER BEFORE THE TWENTIETH OF OCTOBER— TRIAL AM)
DEATH OF CUSTINE— ARREST OF SEVENTY-THREE MEMBERS OF
THE CONVENTION.
The inconceivable rout at Menin, the useless and sanguinary attempt on
Pirmasens, the defeats in the Eastern Pyrenees, the disastrous issue of the
new expedition against La Vendee, were known in Paris, almost all at the
same time, and produced a most painful impression there. The tiding
these events arrived in succession from the 18th to the 25th of September,
and, as usual, fear excited violence. We have already seen that the most
vehement agitators met at the Cordeliers, the members of which society im-
posed less reserve upon themselves than the Jacobins, and that they governed
the \v;tr department under the weak Houchotte. Vincent was their head in
Paris, as Ronsin was in La Vendee; and they seized this occasion to renew
their customary complaints. Placed beneath the Convention, they would
fain have got rid of its inconvenient authority, which they encountered in
the armies in the person of the representatives, and in Paris in the committee
of public welfare. The representatives on mission did not allow them to
carry the revolutionary measures into execution with all the violence that
they could have wished. The committee of public welfare, directing with
, sovereign authority all operations agreeably to the most lofty and the nm.-t
impartial views, continual y thwarted them, and of all the obstacles which
they met with, this annoyed them most: hence they frequently thought of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 305
affecting the establishment of the new executive power, as it was organized
by the constitution.
The enforcing of the constitution, repeatedly and maliciously demanded
by the aristocrats, would have been attended with great dangers. It would
liave required new elections, superseded the Convention by another assem-
bly, necessarily inexperienced, unknown, and comprehending all the factions
it once. The enthusiastic revolutionists, aware of this danger, did not de-
mand the renewal of the representation, but claimed the execution of the
oonstitution in so far as it chimed in with their views. Being almost all of
tin m placed in the public offices, they merely desired the formation of the
constitutional ministry, which was to be independent of the legislative power,
and consequendy of the committee of public welfare. Vincent had, there-
fore, the boldness to cause a petition to be addressed to the Cordeliers, de-
manding the organization of the constitutional ministry, and the recall of the
deputies on mission. The agitation was extreme. Legendre, the friend of
Danton, and already ranked among those whose energy seemed to relax, in
vain opposed this petition, which was adopted, with the exception of one
clause, that which demanded the recall of the representatives on mission.
The utility of these representatives was so evident, and there was in this
demand something so personal against the members of the Convention, that
those who brought it forward dared not persist in it. This petition produced
great tumult in Paris, and seriously compromised the nascent authority of
the committee of public welfare.
Besides these violent adversaries, this committee had others, namely, the
new moderates, who were accused of reviving the system of the Girondins
and thwarting the revolutionary energy. Decidedly hostile to the Cordeliers,
the Jacobins, and the disorganizes of the armies, they were constantly pre-
ferring their complaints to the committee, and even reproached it for not de-
claring itself forcibly enough against the anarchists.
The committee had therefore against it the two new parties that began to
be formed. As usual, these parties laid hold of disastrous events to accuse
it, and both joining to condemn its operations, criticised them each in its
own way.
The rout of the 15th at Menin was already known ; confused accounts
of the late reverses in La Vendee I -egan to be received. There were vague
rumours of defeats at Coron, Torfu, uid Montaigu. Thuriot, who had refused
to be a member of the committee of public welfare, and who was accused
of being one of the new moderates, inveighed, at the commencement of the
sitting, against the intriguers, the disorganizers, who had just made new and
extremely violent propositions relative to articles of consumption. "Our
committees and the executive council," said he, " are harassed, surrounded
by a gang of intriguers, who make pretensions to extraordinary patriotism
solely because it is productive to them Yes, it is high time to drive out
those men of rapine and of conflagratu n, who conceive that the revolution
was made for them, while the upright and the pure uphold it solely for the
welfare of mankind." The propositions attacked by Thuriot were rejected.
Briez, then one of the commissioners to Valenciennes, read a critical memo-
rial on the military operations ; he insisted that the war hitherto carried on
had been slow and ill-suited to the French character ; that the operations had
always been upon a small scale and executed by small masses, and that in
this system was to be sought the cause of the reverses which had been sus-
tained. Then, without openly attacking the committee of public welfare,
he appeared to insinuate that this committee had not communicated all that
vol. ii. — 39 2 c 2
306 HISTORY OF THE
it knew to the Convention, and that, for instance, there had been near Douai
a corps of six thousand Austrians which might have been taken.
The Convention, after hearing Briez, added him to the committee of pub-
lic welfare. At this moment detailed accounts arrived from La Vendee,
contained in a letter from Montaigu. These alarming particulars produced
a general excitement. " Instead of being intimidated," cried one of the
members, " let us swear to save the republic !" At these words the whole
Assembly rose, and once more swore to save the republic, be the perils that
threatened it what they might. The members of the committee of public
welfare, who had not yet arrived, entered at this moment. Barrere, the or-
dinary reporter, addressed the Assembly. " Every suspicion directed against
the committee of public welfare," said he, " would be a victory won by Pitt.
It is not right to give our enemies the too great advantage of throwing dis-
credit ourselves on the power instituted to save us." Barrere then commu-
nicated the measures adopted by the committee. " For some days past,"
continued he, " the committee has had reason to suspect that serious blun-
ders were committed at Dunkirk, where the English might have* been exter-
minated to the last man, and at Menin, where no effort was made to check
the strange effects of panic terror. The committee has removed Houchard,
as well as the divisionary general, Hedouville, who did not behave as he
ought to have done at Menin. The conduct of those two generals will be
immediately investigated ; the committee will then cause all the staffs and
all the administrations of the armies to be purified ; it has placed our fleets
on such a footing as will enable them to cope with our enemies : it has just
raised eighteen thousand men ; it has ordered a new system of attack en
masse ; lastly, 'it is in Rome itself that it purposes to attack Rome, and one
hundred thousand men, landing in England, will march to London and
strangle the system of Pitt. The committee of public welfare, then, is
wrongfully accused. It has never ceased to merit the confidence which the
Convention has hitherto testified towards it." Robespierre then spoke.
" For a long time," said he, " people have been intent on defaming the
Convention and the committee, the depository of its power. Briez, who
ought to have died at Valenciennes, left the place like a coward, to come to
Paris to serve Pitt and the coalition by throwing discredit upon the govern-
ment. It is not enough," added he, " that the Convention continues to repose
confidence in us. It is requisite that it should solemnly proclaim this, and
that it should make known its decision in regard to Briez, whom it has just
added to our number." This demand was greeted with applause ; it was
decided that Briez should not be joined to the committee of public welfare,
and it was declared by acclamation that this committee still possessed the
entire confidence of the National Convention.
The moderates were in the Convention, and they had just been defeated ;
but the most formidable adversaries of the committee, that is the ardent
revolutionists, were among the Jacobins and the Cordeliers. It was against
the latter, in particular, that it behoved the committee to defend itself. Ro-
bespierre repaired to the Jacobins, and exercised his ascendency over them:
he explained the conduct of the committee ; he justified it against the twofold
attacks of the moderates and the enthusiasts, and expatiated on the danger
of petitions tending to demand the formation of the constitutional ministry.
"A government of some sort," said he, "must succeed thai which we have
destroyed. The system of organizing at this moment the constitutional
ministry is no other than that of ousting the Convention itself, and breaking
up the supreme power in presence of the hostile armies. Pitt alone can be
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 307
the author of that idea. His agents have propagated it; they have seduced
the sincere patriots ; and the credulous and suffering people, always inclined
to complain of the government, which is not able to remedy all these evil.-,
have become the faithful echo of their calumnies and their propositions.
You Jacobins," exclaimed Robespierre, " too sincere to be gained, too en-
lightened to be seduced, will defend the Mountain, which is attacked; you
will support the committee of public welfare, which men strive to calumniate
in order to ruin you, and thus with you it will triumph over all the secret
intrigues of the enemies of the people."
Robespierre was applauded, and the whole committee in his person. The
Cordeliers were brought back to order, their petition was forgotten, and the
attack of Vincent, victoriously repelled, had no result.
It became a matter of urgent necessity, however, to adopt some course in
regard to the new constitution. To give up the place to new revolutionists,
equivocal, unknown, probably divided, because they would be the offspring
of all the factions subsisting below the Convention, would be dangerous. It
was therefore necessary to declare to all the parties that the government
would retain the supreme power, and that before it left the republic to itself
and to the effect of the laws which had been given to it, it should be governed
revolutionarily till it should be saved. Numerous petitions had already
prayed the Convention to continue at its post. On the 10th of October, St.
Just, speaking in the name of the committee of public welfare, proposed
new measures of government. He drew a most melancholy picture of
France; he overspread this picture with the sombre colours of his. gloomy
imagination : and, by means of his rare talent and facts otherwise perfectly
authentic, he produced a sort of terror in the minds of his auditors. He
presented, therefore, and procured the adoption of, a decree containing the
following resolutions. By the first clause, the government of France was
declared revolutionary till the peace: which signified that the constitution
was temporarily suspended, and that an extraordinary dictatorship should be
instituted till the expiration of all dangers. This dictatorship was conferred
on the Convention and on the committee of public welfare. " The execu-
tive council," said the decree, " the ministers, the generals, the constituted
bodies, are placed under the superintendence of the committee of public
welfare, which will render an account of it every week to the Convention."
We have already explained how the superintendence was transformed into
supreme authority, because the ministers, the generals, the functionaries,
obliged to submit their operations to the committee, had at length no longer
dared to act of their own motion, but waited for the orders of the committee
itself. It was then said : " The revolutionary laws ought to be rapidly exe-
cuted. The inertness of the government being the cause of the reverses,
the delays for the execution of these laws shall be fixed. The violation of
these terms shall be punished as a crime against liberty." Measures relative
to articles of consumption were added to these measures of government, for
bread is the right of the people, observed St. Just. The general statement
of articles of consumption, when definitely completed, was to be sent to all
the authorities. The stock of necessaries in the departments was to be ap-
proximately estimated and guaranteed ; as to the surplus of each of them, it
was subjected to requisitions either for the armies or for the provinces which
had not sufficient for their consumption. These requisitions had been regu-
lated by a committee of consumption. Paris was to be provisioned, like a
fortress, for a year, from the 1st of the ensuing March. Lastly, it was
decreed that a tribunal should be instituted to investigate the conduct and
308 HISTORY OF THE
«
the property of all those who had had the management of the public
money.
By this grand and important declaration, the government, composed of the
committee of public welfare, the committee of general safety, and the extra-
ordinary tribunal, found itself completed and maintained while the danger
lasted. It was declaring the Revolution in a state of siege, and applying to
it the extraordinary laws of that state, during the whole time that it should
last. To this government were added various institutions, which had long
been called for and had become inevitable. A revolutionary army, that is, a
force specially charged with carrying into execution the orders of the govern-
ment in the interior, was demanded. It had long since been decreed ; it was
at length organized by a new decree. It was to consist of six thousand men
and twelve hundred artillery ; to repair from Paris to any town where its
presence might be necessary, and to remain there in garrison at the cost of
the wealthiest inhabitants. The Cordeliers wanted to have one in each de-
partment, but this was opposed, on the ground that it would be reverting to
federalism to give an individual force to each department. The same Cor-
deliers desired, moreover, that the detachments of the revolutionary ajmy
should be accompanied by a moveable guillotine upon wheels. All sorts of
ideas float in the mind of the populace when it gains the upper hand. The
Convention rejected all these suggestions, and adhered to its decree. Bou-
chotte, who was directed to raise this army, composed it of the greatest
vagabonds in Paris, and who were ready to become the satellites of the rul-
ing power. He filled the staff" with Jacobins and more especially with Cor-
deliers; he took Ronsin away from Rossignol and La Vendue, to put him at
the head of this revolutionary army. He submitted the list of this staff to
the Jacobins, and made each officer undergo the test of the ballot. None of
them in fact was confirmed by the minister, until he had been approved by
the society.
To the institution of the revolutionary army was at length added the law
against suspected persons, so frequently demanded, and resolved upon in
principle on the same day as the levy en masse. The extraordinary tribu-
nal, though instituted in such a manner as to strike upon mere probabilities,
was not sufficiently satisfactory to the revolutionary imagination. It desired
the power of confining those who could not be sent to death, and demanded
decrees which should permit their persons to be secured. The decree which
outlawed the aristocrats was too vague, and required a trial. It was desired
that, on the mere denunciation of the revolutionary committees, a person
declared suspected might be immediately thrown into prison. The provi-
sional detention till the peace of all suspected persons was at length decreed.
As such were considered, lstly, those who, either by their conduct or by
their connexions, or by their language or their writings, had shown them-
selves partisans of tyranny and of federalism! and enemies of liberty; 2dly.
those who could not certify, in the manner prescribed by the law of the 20th
of March last, their means of subsistence and the performance of their civic
duties; 3dly, those to whom certificates of civism had been refused; 4thly.
the public functionaries suspended or removed from their functions by the
National Convention, and by its commissioners ; 5thly, the ci-devant, nobles,
the husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons or daughters, brothers or sisters,
and agents, of emigrants who had not constantly manifested their attachment
to Uu- Revolution ; 6thly, those who had emigrated in the interval between
the I st of July, 1789, and the publication of the law of the 8th of April, 1792,
though they might have returned to France within the specified time.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 309
The detained persons were to be confined in the national houses, and
guarded at their own cost. They were allowed to remove to these houses
such furniture as they needed. The committees authorised u> issue orders
for apprehension could only do so by a majority, and on condition of trans-
rnitting to the committee of general safety the list of die motives of each ap-
prehension. Their functions, becoming from that moment extremely arduous
and almost incessant, constituted a sort of profession which it was requisite
to pay. A salary was therefore allowed them by way of indemnity.
To these resolutions was added a last, which rendered this law against
suspected persons still more formidable, and which was adopted on the
urgent demand of the commune of Paris ; .this was to revoke the decree
which forbade domiciliary visits during the night. From that moment, every
citizen who was sought after was threatened at all hours, and had not a mo-
ment's rest. By shutting themselves up in the daytime in very narrow
places of concealment, ingeniously contrived at the suggestion of necessity,
suspected persons had at least enjoyed the faculty of breathing during the
night ; but, from this moment, they could no longer do so, and arrests, mul
tiplied day and night, soon filled all the prisons of France.
The sectional assemblies were held daily ; but people of the lower classes
had no time to attend them, and, in their absence, the revolutionary motions
were no longer supported. It was decided, at the express proposition of the
Jacobins and of the commune, that these assemblies should be held only
twice a week, and that every citizen who attended them should be paid forty
sous per sitting. The surest way of having the people was not to call them
together too often, and to pay them for their presence. The ardent revolu-
tionists were angry, because bounds were set to their zeal by this limitation
of the meetings of sections to two in a week. They therefore drew up a
very warm petition, complaining that attacks were made on the rights of the
sovereign people, inasmuch as they were prevented from assembling as often
as they pleased. Young Varlet was the author of this new petition ; which
was rejected, and no more attention paid to it than to all the demands sug-
gested by the revolutionary ferment.
Thus the machine was complete in the two points most necessary to a
threatened state — war and police. In the Convention, a committee directed
the military operations, appointed the generals, and the agents of all kinds,
and was empowered by the decree of permanent requisition to dispose alike
of men and things. All this it did, either of itself, or by the representatives
sent on missions. This committee had under it another, that of general
safety, which exercised the high police, and caused it to be exercised by the
revolutionary committees* instituted in each commune. Persons slightly
suspected of hostility, or even of indifference, were confined ; those who
were more seriously compromised were punished by the extraordinary tri-
bunal, but, fortunately as yet, in small number, for that tribunal had, up to
this time, pronounced -but few condemnations. A special army, a real move-
able column or gendarmerie of this system, enforced the execution of the
orders of government; and lastly, the populace, paid for attending at the
sections, was always ready to support it. Thus war and police both centred
in the committee of public welfare. Absolute master, having the means of
putting in requisition all the wealth of the country, being empowered to send
• " The revolutionary committees were declared the judges of the persons liable to arrest.
Their number augmented with frightful rapidity. Paris had soon forty-eight. Every village
throughout the country followed its example. Fifty thousand were soon in operation from
Calais to Bayonne." — Alison. E.
310 HISTORY OF THE
the citizens either to the field of battle, to the scaffold, or to prison, it pos-
sessed for the defence of the Revolution a sovereign and terrible dictatorship.
It was, indeed, obliged to render a weekly account of its proceedings to the
Convention, but this account was always approved, for critical opinion was
exercised only at the Jacobins, and of them it had been master ever since
Robespierre had become one of its members. There was nothing in opposi-
tion to this power but the moderates, who did not go so far, and the new
enthusiasts, who went farther, but who were neither of them much to be
feared.
We have already seen that Robespierre and Carnot had been attached to
the committee of public welfare as successors to Gasparin and Thuriot, who
were both ill. Robespierre had brought with him his powerful influence,
and Carnot his military science. The Convention would have joined with
Robespierre, Danton, his colleague, and his rival in renown ; but the latter,
weary of toil, little qualified for the details of administration, disgusted, more-
over, by the calumnies of the parties, had resolved not to be on any com-
mittee. He had already done a great deal for the Revolution ; he had sup-
ported flagging courage on all the days of danger ; he had furnished the first
idea of the revolutionary tribunal, of the revolutionary army, of the perma-
nent requisition, of the tax on the rich, and the allowance of forty sous per
sitting to the members of the sections ; he was, in short, the author of all the
measures which, though cruel in the execution, had nevertheless imparted to
the Revolution the energy that saved it. At this period he began to be no
longer so necessary, for, since the first invasion of the Prussians, people had
become in a manner habituated to danger ; he disapproved of the vengeance
preparing against the Girondins ; he had just married a young wife, of whom
he was deeply enamoured, and on whom he had settled the gold of Belgium,
said his enemies, and the compensation for his place of advocate to the
council, said his friends ; he was attacked, like Mirabeau and Marat, by an
inflammatory disorder; and, lastly, he needed rest, and solicited leave of
absence, that he might go to Arcis-sur-Aube, his native place, to enjoy the
country, of which he was passionately fond. He had been advised to adopt
this mode of putting an end to calumnies by a temporary retirement. The
victory of the Revolution might thenceforward be accomplished without
him ; two months of war and energy would suffice ; and he purposed to
return when the victory was achieved, to raise his mighty voice in favour of
the vanquished and of a better order of things. Vain illusion of indo!
and discouragement! To abandon so rapid a revolution for two months,
Day, for one only, was making himself a stranger to it, impotent, and mortal.
Danton, therefore, declined the appointment, and obtained leave of ab-
sence. Billaud-Varennes and Collet-d'Herbois were added to the committee,
ami carried with them, the one his cold, implacable disposition, the other,
his fire and his influence over the turbulent Cordeliers. The committee of
general safety was reformed. From eighteen members it was reduced to
nine, known to be the most severe.
While the government was thus organizing itself in the strongest manner,
redoubled energy was apparent in all the resolutions. The great measures
adopted in the month of August had not yet produced their results. La Ven-
dee, though attacked upon a regular plan, had resisted; the cheek at .Menin
had nearly occasioned the loss of all the advantages of the victory of Hondts-
choote; new efforts were required. Revolutionary enthusiasm -
this idea — that in war, as in everything else, thi will lias a decisive influence-
and, for the first time, -m army was enjoined to conquer within a given term.
t
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 311
All the dangers of the republic in La Vendee were fully appreciated.
'•Destroy La Vendee," said Barrere, "and Valenciennes and Conde will
be no longer in the hands of the Austrians. Destroy La Vendi-c, and the
English will think no more of Dunkirk. Destroy La Vendee, and the Rhine
will be delivered from the Prussians. Destroy La Vendee, and Spain will
find herself harassed, conquered by the southerns, united with the victorious
soldiers of Mortagne and Cholet. Destroy La Vendee, and part of the army
of the interior may reinforce that courageous army of the North, so often
betrayed and- so often disorganized. Destroy La Vendue, and Lyons will
cease to resist, Toulon will rise against the Spaniards and the English, and
the spirit of Marseilles will again mount to the height of the republican
Revolution. In short, every blow that you strike at La Vendee will resound
in the rebellious towns, in the federalist departments, on the invaded fron-
tiers ! La Vendue is still La Vendee. It is there that you must strike be-
tween this day and the 20th of October, before the winter, before the roads
become impassable, before the brigands* find impunity in the climate and in
the season.
" The committee, in one comprehensive and rapid glance has discovered
in these few words all the vices of La Vendee;
m Too many representatives ;
" Too much moral division ;
" Too many military divisions ;
" Too much indiscipline in success ;
" Too many false reports in the relation of events ;
" Too much avidity, too much love of money, in a portion of the chiefs
and of the administrators."
In accordance with these views, the Convention reduced the number of the
representatives on mission, united the armies of La Rochelle and Brest into
one, called the army of the West, and gave the command of it not to Rossig-
nol, not to Canclaux, but to Lechelle, general of brigade in the division of
Lucon. Lastly, it fixed the day in which the war of La Vendee was to be
finished, and that day was the 20th of October. The proclamation which
accompanied the decree was as follows :
" The National Convention to the Jirmy of the West
" Soldiers of liberty, the brigands of La Vendee must be exterminated be-
fore the end of October. The welfare of the country requires this : the im-
patience of the French people commands it; their courage ought to accom-
plish it. The national gratitude awaits at that period all those whose valour
and patriotism shall have irrevocably established liberty and the republic!"
Measures not less prompt and not less energetic were adopted in regard to
the army of the North, for the purpose of repairing the check at Menin, and
deciding new successes. Houchard, removed from the command, was ar-
rested. Jourdan, who had commanded the centre at Hondtschoote, was ap-
pointed general-in-chief of the army of the North and that of the Ardennes.
He was directed to collect considerable masses at Guise for the purpose of
attacking the enemy. There was but one outcry against attacks in detail.
Without considering either the plan or the operations of Houchard around
• "The Vcndean officers wore, for distinction, a sort of chequered red handkerchief, knot-
ed round their head, with others of the same colour tied round their waist, hy way of sash,
'a which they stuck their pistol*. The adoption of this wild costume procured them the name
of brigands from its fantastic singularity. It originated in the whim of Henri de Laroche-
ja<juelein, who first used the attire." — ScjU's L'ft of Napoleon. E.
312 HISTORY OF THE
Dunkirk, it was alleged that he had not fought en masse, and the people in-
sisted exclusively on this kind of combat, asserting that it was more appro-
priate to the impetuosity of the French character. Carnot had set out for
Guise to join Jourdan, and to put in execution a new and wholly revolu-
tionary system of warfare. Three new commissioners had been appointed
to assist Dubois-Crance in raising levies en masse, and directing them against
Lyons. Orders were issued to relinquish the system of methodical attacks,
and to assault the rebellious city. Thus redoubled efforts were making in
every quarter to bring the campaign to a victorious conclusion:
But severity is always the companion of energy. The trial of Custine,
too long deferred in the opinion of the Jacobins, was at length commenced,
and it was conducted with all the violence and barbarity of the new judicial
forms. No general-in-chief had yet ascended the scaffold. People were
impatient to strike an elevated head, and to make the commanders of armies
bend to the popular authority; they desired above all to make one of the
generals atone for the defection of Dumouriez, and they chose Custine,
whose opinions and sentiments caused him to be considered as another Du-
mouriez. He had been arrested at the moment when, holding the command
of the army of the North, he had repaired to Paris to concert operations ivith
the ministry. He was at first thrown into prison, and a decree for transfer-
ring him to the revolutionary tribunal was soon demanded and obtained.
The reader will recollect Custine's campaign on the Rhine. Command-
ing a division of the army, he had found Spire and Worms weakly guarded,
because the allies, in their hurry to march upon Champagne, had neglected
everything on their wings and in their rear. German patriots flocking from
all quarters, offered him their towns ; he advanced, took Spire, Worms was
delivered up to him, neglected Manheim, which was in his route, out of re-
spect to the neutrality of the elector-palatine, and also out of fear that he
should not easily enter it. At length he arrived at Mayence, made himself
master of it, rejoiced France by his unexpected conquests, and obtained a
command which rendered him independent of Biron. At this moment Du-
mouriez had repulsed the Prussians, and driven them beyonduhe Rhine.
Kellermann was near Treves. Custine was then to descend the Rhine to
Coblentz, to join Kellermann, and thus make himself master of the banks of
that river. All reasons concurred to favour this plan. The inhabitants of
Coblentz called for Custine, those of St. Goar and Rheinfels also called for
him ; it is impossible to tell how far he might have gone had he followed the
course of the Rhine. Perhaps he might even have descended to Holland.
But from the interior of Germany other patriots called for him, too ; people
fancied, on seeing him advance so boldly, that he had one hundred thousand
men. To penetrate into the enemy's territory and beyond the Rhine j
more gratifying to the imagination and the vanity of Custine. He made an
incursion to Frankfort, to levy contributions and to exercise impolitic vexa-
tions. There he was again beset with solicitations. Madmen invited him
to come to Cassel, in the heart of electoral Hesse, and seize the elector's
treasures. The wiser counsels of the French government advised him to
return to the Rhine, and to march towards Coblentz. But he would not
listen to them, and dreamt of a revolution in Germany.
Meanwhile Custine became sensible of the dangers of his position. See-
ing clearly that, if the elector were to break the neutrality, his rear would be
threatened by Manheim, he would fain have taken that place, which waa
offered to him, but durst not. Threatened to be attacked at Frankfort,
where he could not maintain himself, still he would not abandon that city and
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 313
return to the line of the Rhine, that he might not abandon his pretended
conquests, and not involve himself in the operations of others by descending
towards Coblentz. In this situation he was surprised by the Prussians, lost
Frankfort, was driven back upon Mayence, remained undecided whether he
should keep that place or not, threw into it some artillery brought from
Strasburg, issued not till very late the order to provision it, was again sur
prised amidst his vacillation by the Prussians, withdrew from Mayence, and,
smitten with terror ami fancying that he was pursued by one hundred and
fifty thousand men, retreated to Upper Alsace, almost under the cannon of
Strasburg. Placed on the Upper Rhine with a considerable army, he
might have marched upon Mayence, and put the besiegers between two fires,
but he durst not ; at length, ashamed of his inactivity, he made an unsuc-
cessful attack on the 15th of May, was beaten and went with regret to the
army of the North, where he completed his ruin by moderate language and
by a very prudent piece of advice, namely, that the army should be allowed
to reorganize itself in Caesar's Camp, instead of being made to fight uselessly
for the relief of Valenciennes.
Such had been the career of Custine. There were many faults in it but
no treason. His trial began, and representatives on mission, agents of the
executive power, bitter enemies of the generals, discontented officers, mem-
bers of the clubs of Strasburg, Mayence, and Cambrai, and lastly, the terri-
ble Vincent, the tyrant of the war office under Bouchotte, were brought for-
ward as witnesses. There was a host of accusers, accumulating unjust and
contradictory charges, charges not founded on genuine military criticism but
on accidental misfortunes, of which the general was not guilty, and which
could not be imputed to him. Custine replied with a certain military vehe-
mence to all these accusations, but he was overwhelmed. Jacobins of Stras-
burg told him that he would not take the gorges of Porentruy when Luckner
ordered him to do so; and he proved, to no purpose, that it was impossible.
He was reproached by a German with not having taken Manheim, which he
offered to him. Custine excused himself by alleging the neutrality of the
elector and the difficulties of the project. The inhabitants of Coblentz,
Rheinfels, Darmstadt, Hanau, of all the towns which had wanted to give
themselves up to him, and which he had not consented to occupy, accused
him at once. Against the charge of not marching to Coblentz he made a
weak defence, and calumniated Kellermann, who, he said, had refused to
second him. As to his refusal to take the other places, he alleged with rea-
son that all the German enthusiasts called for him, and that to satisfy them he
must have occupied a hundred leagues of country. By a singular contra-
diction, while he was blamed for not taking this town, or not levying contri-
butions on that, it was urged against him as a crime that he had taken Frank-
fort, plundered the inhabitants, not made the necessary dispositions therefor
resisting the Prussians, and exposed the French garrison to the risk of being
slaughtered. The brave Merlin de Thionville, who gave evidence against
him, justified him in this instance with equal generosity and reason. Had
he left twenty thousand men at Frankfort, said Merlin, he could not have
kept that city ; it was absolutety necessary to retire to Mayence, and he was
only wrong in not having done so sooner. But at Mayence, added a multi-
tude of other witnesses, he had not made any of the necessary preparations ;
he had not collected either provisions or ammunition, but merely crowded
together there the artillery of which he had stripped Strasburg, for the pur-
pose of putting it into the hands of the Prussians, with a garrison of twenty
thousand men and two deputies. Custine proved that he had given orders
vol. ii. — iO 2 D
314 HISTORY OF THE
for provisioning the place, that the artillery was scarcely sufficient, and that
it had not been uselessly accumulated there merely to be given up. Merlin
supported all these assertions of Custine, but he could not forgive his pusil-
lanimous retreat and his inactivity on the Upper Rhine, while the garrison
of Mayence was performing prodigies. On these points Custine had nothing
to reply. He was then charged with having burned the magazines of Spire
on retiring — an absurd charge, for when once the retreat became imperative,
it was better to burn the magazines than to leave them to the enemy. He
was accused of having caused some volunteers to be shot at Spire on account
of pillage ; to this he replied that the Convention had approved of his con-
duct. He was further accused of having particularly spared the Prussians ;
of having voluntarily exposed his army to be beaten on the 15th of May; pf
having tarried long before he repaired to his command in the North ; of
having attempted to strip Lille of its artillery for the purpose of taking it to
Caesar's Camp ; of having prevented Valenciennes from being succoured ;
of not having opposed any obstacles to the landing of the English — charges
which were each more absurd than the other. Lastly, it was said to him,
"You pitied Louis XVI. ; you were sad on the 31st of May; you wanted
to hang Dr. Hoffman, president of the Jacobins at Mayence ; you prevented
the circulation of the journal of Pere Duchesne, and the journal of the Moun-
tain in your army ; you said that Marat and Robespierre were disturbers ;
you surrounded yourself with aristocratic officers; you never had at your
table good republicans." These charges were fatal. They comprehended
the real crimes for which he was prosecuted.
The trial had been long ; all the imputations were so vague that the tribu-
nal hesitated. Custine's daughter, and several persons who interested them-
selves on his behalf, had ventured to take some steps ; for, at this period,
though the terror was already great, still persons durst yet testify some inte-
rest for the victims. The revolutionary tribunal itself was immediately de-
nounced at the Jacobins. " It is painful to me," said Hebert, addressing
that society, " to have to denounce an authority, which was the hope of the
patriots, which at first deserved their confidence, and which will before long
become their bane. The revolutionary tribunal is on the point of acquitting
a villain, in whose favour, it is true, the handsomest women in Paris arc
soliciting everybody. Custine's daughter, as clever a comedian in this city
as was her father at the head of armies, is calling upon everybody, and pro-
mising everything to obtain his pardon." Robespierre, on his part, de-
nounced the spirit of chicane and the fondness for formalities, which had
seized the tribunal ; and maintained that, if it were only for the attempt to
strip Lille of its artillery, Custine deserved death.
Vincent, one of the witnesses, had ransacked the portfolios of the war-
office, and brought the letters and orders for which Custine was accused, and
which assuredly did not constitute crimes. Fouquicr-Tinvillc* drew a com-
parison between Custine and Dumouriez, which was the ruin of the unfor-
tunate general. Dumouriez, he said, had advanced rapidly into Belgium to
• " Fmiquier Tinville, the son of a farmer, was first an attorney at the Chatelet. hut having
dissipated his property, he lost his place, and hecame a bankrupt. In 1793 he was appointed
head juryman of the revolutionary tribunal, and caused the Queen to be condemned to death;
but in the year 1 795 was himself condemned and executed, for having caused the destrurtion of
an innumerable multitude of French persons, under pretence of conspiracies ; for having caused
between sixty and eighty individuals to be tried in four hours ; for having caused carts which
were ready l>eforehand, to be loaded with victims whose very names were not mentioned,
and against whom no depositions were made, and for having constituted a jury of his own
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 315
abandon it afterwards as rapidly, and to deliver up to the enemy soldiers,
magazines, and representatives themselves. In like manner, Custine had
advanced rapidly into Germany, had abandoned our soldiers at Frankfort
and at Mayence, and meant to deliver up with the latter city twenty thou-
sand men, two representatives, and our artillery, which ho had maliciously
removed from Strasburg. Like Dumouriez, he slandered the Convention
and the Jacobins, and caused brave volunteers to be shot upon the pretext
adherents. It would be impossible to detail all his atrocities, but a few instances will convey
an idea of his character. M. de Gamache was brought into court, but the officer declared
that he was not the person accused. " Never mind," said Fouquier, " bring him neverthe-
less." A moment after, the real Gamache appeared and both were at once condemned and
executed. Sixty or eighty unhappy wretches were often confounded in the same accusation,
though they had never seen each other, and when Fouquier wished to despatch them in the
mass, he merely said to the jury, " I think, citizens, that you are convinced of the guilt of the
•ceased." When this hint was thrown out, the jury would declare themselves sufficiently
enlightened, and condemn all the accused in the gross, without hearing one of them. Fou-
quier Tinville was accustomed to frequent a coffee-house in the Palace of Justice, where the
lodges and jurymen of his tribunal met. There they reckoned the number of heads which
had fallen in the course of the decade. " What do you think I have gained to-day for the
republic !" Some of the guests, to pay court to him, would answer, " so many millions,"
when he would immediately add, "in the next decade I shall undress three or four hundred,"
meaning, guillotine them. A considerable number of victims were one day melon their way
home from the tribunal by Fouquier, who had not been present at their trial ; he asked the
jury on what crime they had been pronouncing sentence. They did not know, they said,
but he might run after the condemned persons, and inquire, upon which they all burst into
laughter. When he was himself led to execution, after the fall of Robespierre, Fouquier
Tinville's forehead, hard as marble, defied all the eyes of the multitude ; he was even seen
to smile and utter threatening words. He trembled however, as he ascended the scaffold,
and seemed for the first time to feel remorse. He had a round head, black straight hair,
a narrow and wan forehead, small round eyes, a full face marked with the smallpox, a
look sometimes fixed, sometimes oblique, a middling stature, and thick legs." — Biographie
Modtrne. E.
" Fouquier Tinville who was excessively artful, quick in attributing guilt, and skilled in
controverting facts, showed immoveable presence of mind on his trial. While standing
before the tribunal from which he had condemned so many victims, he kept constantly writ-
ing; but fike Argus, all eyes and ears, he lost not while he wrote, one single word uttered
by the president, by an accused person, by a judge, by a witness, or by a public accuser. He
sffeeted to sleep during the public accuser's recapitulation, as if to feign tranquillity, while he
had hell in his heart No eye but must involuntarily fall before his steadfast gaze ; when
he prepared to speak, he frowned; his brow was furrowed; his voice was rough, loud, and
menacing; he carried audacity to the utmost in his denial ; and showed equal address in
altering facts and rendering them independent of each other, and especially in judiciously
placing his alibis." — Merrier. E.
"Fouquier Tinville was the public accuser in the revolutionary tribunal, and his name
soon became as terrible as that of Robespierre to all France. He was born in Picanlv, and
exhibited a combination of qualities so extraordinary, that if it had not been established by
undoubted testimony, it would have been deemed fabulous. Justice in his eyes consisted in
condemning; an acquittal was the source of profound vexation ; he was never happy unless
when he had secured the conviction of all the accused. He required no species of recreation ;
women, the pleasures of the table or of the theatre, were alike indifferent to him. Sober and
sparing in diet, he never indulged in excess, excepting when with the judges of the revolu-
tionary tribunal, when he would at times give way to intemperance. His power of under-
((•Jag fatigue was unbounded. The sole recreation which he allowed himself was to behold
his victims perish on the scaffold. He confessed that that object had great attractions for
nim. He might during the period of his power have amassed an immense fortune; he
remained to the last poor, and his wife is said to have died of famine. His lodgings were
destitute of every comfort ; their whole furniture, after his death, did not sell for twenty
pounds. No seduction could influence him. He was literally a bar of iron against all the
ordinary desires of men. Nothing roused his mind but the prospect of inflicting death, and
then his animation was such that his countenance became radiant and expressive." — Alison. E.
316 HISTORY OF THE
of maintaining discipline. After this parallel, the tribunal ceased to hesitate.
Custine defended his military operations in a speech of two hours ; and
Troncon-Decoudray defended his administrative and civil conduct, but to no
purpose. The tribunal declared the general guilty, to the great joy of the
Jacobins and Cordeliers, who filled the hall and gave tumultuous demonstra-
tions of their satisfaction. Custine, however, had not been unanimously
condemned. On the three questions, he had successively had against him
ten, nine, eight voices out" of eleven. The president asked if he had any-
thing further to say. He looked around, and not seeing his counsel, he re-
plied, " I have no longer any defenders ; I die calm and innocent."
He was executed on the following morning. This warrior, a man of
acknowledged intrepidity, was staggered at the sight of the scaffold. He
nevertheless knelt down at the foot of the ladder, offered up a short prayer,
recovered himself, and received death with courage.* Such was the end
of this unfortunate general, who lacked neither intelligence nor firmness, but
who combined inconsistency with presumption, and who committed three
capital faults ; the first in leaving his proper line of operation and marching
to Frankfort; the second in not returning to it when exhorted to do so; and
the third in remaining in the most timid inaction during the siege of May-
ence. None of these faults, however, were deserving of death ; but he suf-
fered the punishment which could not be inflicted on Dumouriez, and which
he had not merited, like the latter, by great and guilty projects. His death
was a terrible example for all the generals, and a signal to them for absolute
obedience to the orders of the revolutionary government.
This act of rigour was destined to be followed up by executions without
intermission. The order for hastening the trial of Marie Antoinette was
renewed. The act of accusation of the Girondins, so long demanded and
never prepared, was presented to the Convention. It was drawn up by St.
Just. Petitions came from the Jacobins to oblige the Convention to adopt
it. It was directed not only against the twenty-two and the commission of
twelve, but also against seventy-three members of the right side, who had
maintained an absolute silence since the victory of the Mountain, and who
had drawn up a well-known protest against the events of the 3 1st* of May
and the 2d of June. Some furious Mountaineers insisted on the accusation,
that is death, against the twenty-two, the twelve, and the seventy-three; but
Robespierre opposed this and suggested a middle course, namely, to send
the twenty-two and the twelve to the revolutionary tribunal, and to put the
seventy-three under arrest. His proposal was adopted. The doors of the
hall were immediately secured, the seventy-three were apprehended, and Fou-
quier-Tinville was ordered to take into his hands the unfortunate Girondins.
Thus the Convention, becoming more and more docile, suffered the order
for sending part of its colleagues to execution to be extorted from it. In
truth it could no longer delay issuing it, for the Jacobins had sent five peti-
tions, each more imperative than the other, in order to obtain these last
decrees of accusation.
• " CusUne's beautiful and gifted daughter-in-law in vain sat daily by his side, and exerted
herself to the utmost in his behalf; her grace and the obvious injustice of the accusation
produced some impression on the judges, and a few were inclined to an acquittal : but im-
mediately tin' revolutionary tribunal itself was complained of, and Custine was found guilty.
When he ascended the scaffold, the crowd murmured because he appeared with a minister
of religion by his side." — Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION 817
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
SIEGE AND REDUCTION OF LYONS— VICTORY OF WATIGNIES— THE
BLOCKADE OF MAUBEUGE RAISED— JUNCTION OF THE REPUBLICAN
ARMIES IN THE CENTRE OF LA VENDEE— VICTORY OF CHOLET;
FLIGHT OF THE VENDEANS BEYOND THE LOIRE.
Every reverse roused the revolutionary energy, and that energy produced
success. It had always been thus during that memorable campaign. A
continual series of disasters, from the defeat of Neerwinden till the month of
August, had at length stimulated to desperate efforts. The annihilation of
federalism, the defence of Nantes, the victory of Hondtschoote, the raising
of the blockade of Dunkirk, had been the consequence of these efforts. Fresh
reverses at Menin, Pirmasens, the Pyrenees, and at Torfou and Coron, in
La Vendee, had just given fresh excitement to energy, and decisive successes
on all -the theatres of the war were destined to be the result of it.
Of all the operations, the siege of Lyons was that the end of which was
awaited with the greatest impatience. We left Dubois-Crance encamped
before that city, with five thousand of the requisitionary force. He was
threatened with soon having on his rear the Sardinians, whom the weak
army of the great Alps was no longer able to keep in check. As we have
already observed, he had placed himself to the north, between the Saone and
the Rhone, facing the redoubts of Croix-Rousse, and not on the heights of
St. Foy and Fourvieres situated to the west, from which the attack ought by
rights to have been directed. The motive for this preference was founded
on more than one reason. It was above all important to keep in communi-
cation with the frontier of the Alps, where the main body of the republican
army was, and whence the Piedmontese could come to succour the Lyon-
nese. In this position he also had the advantage of occupying the upper
course of the two rivers, and of intercepting any provisions which might
have been descending the Saone and the Rhone. It is true that the west was
thus left open to the Lyonnese, and that they could make continual excur-
sions towards St. Etienne and Mont-Brison ; but the arrival of the contingents
of the Puy-de-Dome was daily expected, and, when these new requisitions
had once joined, Dubois-Crance would be enabled to complete the blockade
of the west side, and then to choose the real point of attack. Meanwhile,
he contented himself with pressing the enemy closely, with cannonading the
Croix-Rousse to the north, and with commencing his lines on the east before
the bridge of La Guillotiere. The transport of ammunition was difficult and
slow. It had to be brought from Grenoble, Fort Barreaux, Brian^on, and
Embrun, and thus to travel over sixty leagues of mountains. These extra-
ordinary convoys could be effected only by way of forced requisition, and by
putting in motion five thousand horses ; for they had to transport before Ly-
ons fourteen thousand bombs, thirty-four thousand cannon-balls, three hun-
dred thousand pounds of gunpowder, eight hundred thousand cartridges, and
one hundred and thirty pieces of artillery.
Very early in the siege, the march of die Piedmontese, who were debouch-
2d2
318 HISTORY OF THK
mg from the Little St. Bernard and from Mont-Cenis, was announced. At
the urgent solicitations of the department of the Isere, Kcllermann immedi-
ately set out, and left General Dumay to succeed him at Lyons. Dumay.
however, was his successor only in appearance, for Dubois-Crance, a repre-
sentative and an able engineer, directed alone all the operations of the siege.
To hasten the levy of the requisitions of the I'uy-ile-Doine, Duoois-Crance
detached General Nicolas, with a small corps of cavalry ; hut it was taken
in the Forez, and delivered up to the Lyonnese. Dubois-Crance then sent
thither a thousand good troops with Javognes,* the representative. The
mission of the latter was more fortunate; he repressed the aristocrats of
Mont-Hrison and St. Etienne, and levied seven or eight thousand peasants,
whom he brought before Lyons. Dubois-Crance placed them at the bridge
of Oullins, situated to the north-west of Lyons, so as to cramp the commu-
nications of Lyons with the Forez. He ordered Reverchon, the deputy,
who had collected some thousand requisitionaries at Macon, to draw nearer,
and placed him up the Saone, quite to the north. In this manner, the
blockade began to be rather strict, but the operations were slow, and attacks
by main force impossible. The fortifications of La Croix-Rousse, between
the Rhone and the Loire, before which the principal corps lay, could not bo-
carried by assault. On the east side and on the left bank of the Rhone, the
bridge of Morand was defended by a semicircular redoubt, very skilfully con-
structed. On the west the decisive heights of St. Foy and Fourvieres could
not be taken without a strong army, and for the moment nothing further was
to be thought of than intercepting provisions, pressing the city, and setting
it on fire.
From the commencement of August to the middle of September Dubois-
Crance had not been able to do more, and in Paris people complained of his
slowness without making allowance for its motives. He had, nevertheless,
done great damage to the unfortunate city. Conflagrations had consumed
the magnificent square of Bellecour, the arsenal, the quarter of St. Clair, and
the port of the Temple, and damaged in particular that fine building, the
Hospital, which rises so majestically on the bank of the Rhone. The Lyon-
nese, however, still continued to resist with the utmost obstinacy. A report
was circulated among them that fifty thousand Piedmontese were approach-
ing their city ; the emigrants loaded them with promises, but without throw-
ing themselves into the midst of them; and those worthy manufacturers, sin-
cere republicans, were by their false position forced to desire the baneful
and ignominious succour of emigrants and foreigners. Their sentiments
had more than once burst forth in an unequivocal manner. Precy had pro-
posed to hoist the white flag, but had soon perceived the impossibility of
doing so. An obsidional paper having been created to supply the wants of
the siege, and there being Jleurs de lis in the water-mark of this paper, it
had been found necessary to destroy it and make another. Thus the senti-
ments of the Lyonnese were republican, but the fear of the vengeance of
the Convention, and the false promises of Marseilles, Bordeaux, Caen, and
more especially of the emigrants, had hurried them into an abyss of faults
and calamities.
• " Javognes was famous for his cruelties and rapine at Lyons. He traversed the depart-
ments of Ain and Loire at the head of a revolutionary army, and began by establishing at
Fours a tribunal composed of ignorant and profligate men, to one of whom he said, ' The
aans-cuhtles must profit by this opportunity to do their own business ; so send all the rich
men to the guillotine, and you will quickly become rich yourself.' With such tools, he
quickly organized death and pillage in all the towns which he visited." — Prudhommt. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 319
While they wore feeding themselves with hopes of the arrival of fifty thou
sand Sardinians, the ('(invention ordered the representees Couthon, Maignet,
and Chateauneuf-Kandon, to repair to Auvergne and the neighbouring depart-
ments, to raise a levy en masse there, and Kellermann was hastening to the
valleys of the Alps to meet the Piedmontese.
A fair occasion here again offered itself to the Piedmontese for making a
grand and bold attempt, which could not have failed to prove successful ;
this was, to concentrate their principal force on the Little St. Bernard, and
to debouch on Lyons with fifty thousand men. It is well known that the
three valleys off Sallenche, the Tarentaise, and the Maurienne, wind in a
kind of spiral form, and that, commencing at the little St. Bernard, they de-
bouch upon Geneva, Chambery, Lyons, and Grenoble. Small French corps
were scattered in these valleys. To descend rapidly by one of them and to
take post at their outlets would have been a sure way, according to all the
principles of the art, to cut off the detachments in the mountains, and to make
them lay down their arms. There was little reason to fear any attachment
of the Savoyards for the French, for the assignats and requisitions had as yet
taught them to know nothing of liberty but its extortions and its rigour. The
Duke of Montferrat, placed at the head of the expedition, took with him but
twenty or twenty-five thousand men, threw a corps on his right into the val-
ley of the Sallenche, descended with Iris main body into the Tarentaise, and
left General Gordon to pass through the Maurienne with his left wing. So
dilatory was his movement, that, though commenced on the 14th of August,
it lasted till September. The French, though far inferior in number, made
an energetic resistance, and prolonged the retreat to eighteen days. On reach-
ing Moustier, the Duke of Montferrat sought to place himself in connexion
with Gordoii, on the chain of the Grand-Loup, which parts the two valleys
of the Tarentaise and the Maurienne, and never thought of marching rapidly
upon Conflans, the point where the three valleys meet. This dilatoriness
and his twenty-five thousand men prove sufficiendy whether he had any
intention of proceeding to Lyons.
Meanwhile Kellermann, hastening from Grenoble, had called out the na-
tional guard of the Isere and of the surrounding departments. He had en-
couraged the Savoyards, who began to fear the vengeance of the Piedmontese
government, and had contrived to collect about twelve thousand men. He
then reinforced the corps in the valley of Sallenche, and marched towards
Conflans, at the outlet of the two valleys of the Tarentaise and the Maurienne.
This was about the 10th of September. At this moment orders to advance
had reached the Duke of Montferrat. But Kellermann, anticipating the
Piedmontese, ventured to attack them in the position of Espierre, which they
had taken up on the chain of the Grand-Loup, for the purpose of communi-
cating between the two valleys. As he could not approach this position in
front, he caused it to be turned by a detached corps. This corps, composed
of half-naked soldiers, nevertheless made heroic efforts, and lifted the guns
by main streagth up almost inaccessible heights. All at once, the French
artillery unexpectedly opened over the heads of the Piedmontese, who were
dismayed by it. Gordon immediately retired in the valley of Maurienne on
St. Michel, and the Duke of Montferrat moved back to the middle of the
valley of the Tarentaise. Kellermann, having annoyed the latter on his flanks,
soon obliged him to return to St. Maurice and St. Germain, and at length
drove lum, on the 4th of October, beyond the Alps. Thus the short and
successful campaign which the Piedmontese might have made by debouching
with twice the mass, and descending by a single valley upon Chambery and
320 HISTORY OF THE
Lyons, failed here for the same reasons that had caused all the attempts of
the allies to miscarry, and saved France.
While the Sardinians were thus driven back beyond the^lps, the three
deputies sent into thePuys-de-Dome, to effect a levy en masse there, raised
the country people by preaching up a kind of crusade, and persuading them
that Lyons, so far from defending the republican cause, was the rendezvous
of the factions, of the emigration, and of foreigners. The paralytic Couthon,
full of an activity which his infirmities could not relax, excited a general
movement. He despatched Maignet and Chateauneuf with a first column
of twelve thousand men, and remained behind himself for die purpose of
bringing another of twenty-five thousand, and collecting the necessary sup-
plies of provisions. Dubois-Crance placed the new levies on the west side,
towards St. Foy, and thus completed the blockade. He received at the same
time a detachment of the garrison of Valenciennes, which, like that of May-
ence, could not serve any where but in the interior ; he placed detachments
of regular troops in advance of the new levies so as to form good heads of
columns. His army was thus composed of about twenty-five thousand
requisitionaries and eight or ten thousand men inured to war.
On the 24th, at midnight, he carried the redoubt of the bridge of Oullins,
which led to the foot of the heights of St. Foy. Next day, General Doppet,
a Savoyard,* who had distinguished himself under Carteaux, in the war
against the Marseillais, arrived to supersede Kellermann. The latter had
been removed on account of the lukewarmness of his zeal, and he had been
suffered to retain his command for a few days, merely that he might bring
his expedition against the Piedmontese to a conclusion. General Doppet
then concerted with Dubois-Crance for the assault of the heights of St. Fojr.
All the preparations were made for the night between the 28th' and 29th of
September. Simultaneous attacks were directed on the north near La Croix-
Rousse, on the east facing the bridge of Morand, and on the south by the
bridge of La Mulatiere, which is situated below the city, at the conflux of
the Saone and the Rhone. The serious attack was to be made by the
bridge of Oullins on St. Foy. This was not begun till five in the morning
of the 29th, an hour or two after the three others. Doppet, inflaming the
soldiers, rushed with them upon a first redoubt, and hurried them on to a
second, with the utmost vivacity. Great and little St. Foy were carried.
Meanwhile the column sent to attack the bridge of La Mulatiere made itself
master of it, and penetrated to the isthmus at the point of which the two
rivers join. It was about to enter Lyons, when Precy, hastening up with
his cavalry, repulsed it and saved the place. Meanwhile Vaubois, com-
mandant of artillery, who had made a very brisk attack upon the bridge of
Morand, had penetrated into the horseshoe redoubt, but had been obliged to
leave it again.
Of all these attacks one only had completely succeeded, but this was the
principal attack, that of St. Foy. The assailants had now to pass from the
heights of St. Foy to those of Fourvieres, which were much more regularly
intrenched and much more difficult to carry. Dubois-Crance. who acted
systematically and like a skilful soldier, was of opinion that he ought not to
expose himself to the risks of a new assault, for the following reasons ; He
knew that the Lyonnese, who were compelled to eat pea-flour, had provi-
* "General Doppet was a Savoyard, a physician, and an unprincipled man. He was en-
tirely governed by interested motives. He was a decided enemy to all who possessed talent,
had no idea of war, and was anything but brave." — liourrienne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 321
sions for only a few days longer, and that they would very soon be obliged
to surrender. He had found them extremely brave in the defence of La Mu-
latiere and the bridge of Morand ; he was fearful that an atuu-k on the
heights of Fourvieres mi^ht not succeed, and that a check might disorganise
the army and compel him to raise the siege. " The greatest favour.
he, " that we could do to the brave and desperate besieged, is to furnish them
with an opportunity to save themselves by fighting. Let us leave them to
perish in a few days by famine."
At this moment, on the 2d of October, Couthon arrived with a new levy
of twenty-five thousand peasants of the Auvergne. " I am coming," lie
wrote, " with my rocks of the Auvergne, and I shall hurl them upon the
suburb of Devaise." He found Dubois-Crance amidst an army of which he
was the absolute chief, in which he had established the rules of military
subordination, and among which he more commonly wore the uniform of a
superior officer than that oi' a representative of the people. Couthon was
irritated to see a representative superseding equality by the military hierar-
chy, and, above all, would not listen to a word about regular warfare. " I
know nothing of tactics," said he ; "I bring with me the people, whose
holy rage will conquer everything. We must overwhelm Lyons with our
masses and take it by main force. Besides, I have promised my peasants
leave of absence next Monday, for they must go home and attend to their
vintage." It was then Tuesday. Dubois-Crance, who thoroughly under-
stood his profession, and was accustomed to regular troops, expressed some
contempt for this ill-armed mob of peasants. He proposed to pick out the
youngest, to incorporate them into the battalions already organized, and to
dismiss the others. Couthon would not listen to any of these prudent sug-
gestions, and caused it to be immediately decided that Lyons should be
attacked on all points, with the sixty thousand men of whom the army now
consisted, in consequence of the junction of the new levy. He wrote at the
same time to the committee of public welfare, urging it to recall Dubois-
Crance. It was resolved in the council of war that the attack should take
place on the 8th of October.
The recall of Dubois-Crance" and of his colleague Gauthier arrived in the
meantime. The Lyonnese had a great horror of Dubois-Crance, whom
they had seen for two months so inveterate against their city, and they de-
clared that they would not surrender to him. On the 7th, Couthon sent
them a last summons, and wrote to them that it was he, Couthon, and the
representatives, Maignet and Laporte, who were charged by the Convention
with the prosecution of the siege. The firing was suspended till four in the
afternoon, and then renewed with extreme violence. Preparations were
about to be made for the assault, when a deputation came to treat on behalf
of the Lyonnese. It appears that the object of this negotiation was to give
time to Precy and two thousand of the inhabitants, who were most deeply
compromised, to escape in close column. They actually did avail themselves
of this interval, and left the place by the suburb of Devaise, with the inten-
tion of retiring towards Switzerland.
Scarcely had the parley commenced, when a republican column penetrated
to the suburb of St. Just. It was no longer time to make conditions, and
besides, the Convention would grant none. On the 9th the army entered,
headed by the representatives. The inhabitants had concealed themselves,
but all the persecuted Mountaineers came forth in a body to meet the victo-
rious army, and composed for it a sort of popular triumph. General Doppet
VOL. II.— 41
322 HISTORY OF THE
made his troops observe the strictest discipline, and left to the representatives
the exercise of the revolutionary vengeance upon that unfortunate city.
Meanwhile Precy, with his two thousand fugitives, was marching towards
Switzerland. But Dubois-C ranee, foreseeing that this would be his only
resource, had for a long time caused all the passes to be guarded. The un-
fortunate Lyonnese were therefore pursued, dispersed, and killed by the
peasants. Not more than eighty of them, with Precy, reached the Helvetic
territory.
No sooner had Couthon entered the city, than he re-established the old
Mountaineer municipality, and commissioned it to seek out and point out the
rebels. He instituted a popular commission to try them according to martial
law. He then wrote to Paris that there were three classes of inhabitants:
1 , the guilty rich ; 2, the selfish rich ; 3, the ignorant artizans who were of
no party whatever, and alike incapable of good and evil. The first should
be guillotined and their houses destroyed ; the second forced to contribute
their whole fortune ; and the third be displaced, and a republican colony
planted in their stead.
The capture of Lyons produced the greatest rejoicing in Paris, and com-
pensated for the bad news of the end of September. Still, notwithstanding
the results, complaints were made of the dilatoriness of Dubois-Crance, and
to him was imputed the flight of the Lyonnese by the suburb of Devaise,
a flight, however, which had only saved eighty of them. Couthon, in par-
ticular, accused him of having made himself absolute general in his army,
of having more frequently appeared in the dress of a superior officer than
in that of representative of the people, of having affected the superci-
liousness of a tactician; lastly, of having preferred the system of regular
sieges to that of attacks en masse. An outcry was immediately raised by
the Jacobins against Dubois-Crance, whose activity and vigour had, never-
theless, rendered such important services at Grenoble, in the South, and be-
fore Lyons. At the same time, the committee of public welfare prepared
terrible decrees, with a view to make the authority of the Convention more
formidable and more implicitly obeyed. The decree submitted by Barrere,
and immediately adopted, was as follows :
Art. 1. There shall be appointed by the National Convention, on the pre-
sentation of the committee of public welfare, a commission of five represen-
tatives of the people, who shall proceed to Lyons without delay, and cause
all the counter-revolutionists who have taken up arms in that city to be ap-
prehended and tried according to martial law.
2. All the Lyonnese shall be disarmed ; the arms shall be given to those
who shall be acknowledged to have had no hand in the revolt and to the
defenders of the country.
3. The city of Lyons shall be destroyed.
4. No part of it shall be preserved but the poor-house, the manufactories,
the workshops of the arts, the hospitals, the public buildings, and those of
instruction.
5. That city shall cease to be called Lyons. It shall be called Commune-
Jiffranchit.
6. On the ruins of Lyons shall be erected a monument, on which shall
be inscribed these words: Lyons made war upon liberty — Lyons is no
more !*
* " The practice of all governments being to establish their continuance as a right, those
who attack them are enemies while they fight, and conspirators when they are conquered ;
consequently, they are killed both by means of war and of the law. All these motives in-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 323
The intelligence of the capture of Lyons was immediately .ornmunicated
to the two armies of the North and of La Vendee, where the decisive blows
were to be struck, and a proclamation invited them to imitate the. army of
Lyons. The army of the North was thus addressed: "The standard of
liberty waves over the walls of Lyons, and purifies them. Heboid there
the omen of victory ; victory belongs to courasje. It is yours: strik
terminate the satellites of the tyrants ! The eyes of the country are fixed
on you ; the Convention seconds your generous devotedness ; a few days
longer, and the tyrants will be no more, and the republic will owe to you its
happiness and its glory." To the soldiers of La Vendee it was said, "And
you, too, brave soldiers, you, too, will gain a victory. Too long has La
Vendee annoyed the republic. March, strike, finish ! All our enemies
must fall at once. Every army must conquer. Would you be the last to
gather laurels, to earn the glory of having exterminated the rebels and saved
the country ?"
The committee, as we see, spared no pains to make the most of the re-
duction of Lyons. That event was, in fact, of the utmost importance. It
delivered the east of France from the last remains of insurrection, and took all
hope from the emigrants intriguing in Switzerland, and from the Piedmont-
ese, who could not henceforth reckon upon any diversion. It quelled the
Jura, secured the rear of the army of the Rhine, permitted the succours in
men and stores, which had become indispensable, to be despatched to Tou-
lon and the Pyrenees ; and lastly, it intimidated all the towns which still
felt disposed to insurrection, and insured their definitive submission.
It was in the North that the committee was particularly desirous to display
the greatest energy, and that it expected generals and soldiers to show that
quality most conspicuously. Scarcely had Custine's head been struck off on
the scaffold, when Houchard was sent to the revolutionary tribunal for not
having done all that he might have done before Dunkirk. The recent com-
plaints addressed to the committee in September had obliged it to renew all
the staffs. It had just recomposed them entirely, and raised mere officers
to the highest commands. Houchard, colonel at the beginning of the cam-
paign, general-in-chief before it was finished, and now accused before the
revolutionary tribunal ; Hoche, a mere officer at the siege of Dunkirk, and
now promoted to the command of the army of the Moselle ; Jourdan, chef
de bataillon, then commandant of the centre at the battle of Hondtschoote,
and at length appointed general-in-chief of the army of the North ; were
striking examples of the vicissitudes of fortune in the republican armies.
These sudden promotions did not allow soldiers, officers, or generals, time
to become acquainted and to gain each other's confidence ; but they conveyed
a terrible idea of that will, which thus struck at every one, not only in case
of a proved treason, but for a suspicion, for insufficient zeal, or for a half
victory ; and thence resulted an absolute devotion on the part of the armies,
and unbounded hopes in spirits daring enough to defy the dangerous chances
of the generalship.
To this period must be referred the first advances of the art of war. The
principles of that art had, indeed, been known and practised in all ages by
captains combining boldness of mind with boldness of character. In very
times, Frederick had furnished an example of the most admirable
fluenced at the same time the policy of the revolutionary government — a policy of vengeance,
of terror, and of self-preservation. These are the maxims according to which thoy acted
with respect to the insurgent towns, more especially Lyons, which was denounced in a terri-
ble spirit." — Mignet. E.
324 HISTORY OF THE
strategical combinations. But, as soon as the man of genius disappears and
wives place to ordinary men, the art of war falls back into circumspection
;md routine. Generals fight everlastingly for the defence or the attack of a
line ; they acquire skill in calculating the advantages of ground, in adapting
it to each kind of arm ; but, with all these means, they dispute for whole
years the possession of a province which :i hold captain would be able to gain
by one manoeuvre ; and this prudence of mediocrity sacrifices more blood
than the temerity of genius, for it consumes men without producing adequate
results.
Such had been the course pursued by the skilful tacticians of the coalition.
To each battalion they opposed another ; they guarded all the routes threat-
ened by the enemy, and while with one bold march they might have de-
stroyed the Revolution, they durst not take a step for fear of uncovering
themselves. The art of war was yet to be regenerated. To form a com-
pact mass, to fill it with confidence and daring, to carry it rapidly beyond a
river or a chain of mountains, to strike an enemy unawares, by dividing his
force, by separating him from his resources, by taking his capital, was a dif-
ficult and a grand art, which required the presence of genius, and which
could develop itself only amidst the revolutionary agitation.
The Revolution, by setting the public mind in motion, prepared the epoch
of great military combinations. At first it raised in its cause enormous
masses of men, masses considerable in a very different way from all those
that were ever raised for the cause of kings. It then excited an extraordi-
nary impatience of success, and a disgust of slow and methodical combats,
and suggested the idea of sudden and numerous irruptions on one and the
same point. On all sides, it was said, We must fight en masse. This was
the cry of the soldiers on the frontiers, and of the Jacobins in the clubs.
Oouthon, arriving at Lyons, had replied to all the arguments of Dubois-Crance
that the assault ought to be made en masse. Lastly, Barrere had presented
an able and profound report, in which he showed that the cause of our
reverses lay in combats of detail. Thus, in forming masses, in inspiring
them with new courage, in abrogating the old system of military routine,
the Revolution laid the foundation for the revival of warfare on a large scale
This change could not be effected without disorder. Peasants and artisans
taken directly to fields of battle, carried with them on the first day nothing
but ignorance of discipline, and panic terror, the consequence of disorgan
ization. Representatives, who were sent to fan the revolutionary passion?
in the camps, frequently required impossibilities, and were guilty of injus
tice to brave generals. Dumouriez, Custine, Houchard. Brtmet, Candanx
Jourdan, perished or retired before this torrent; but in a month these arti
s mis became Jacobin declaimers. docile and intrepid soldiers ; those repre
sentatives communicated an extraordinary energy to the armies ; and, by
dint of exigencies ;m<l changes, they at length found out the bold spirits tha>
were suitable to the cireum-tanees.
Lastly, there came forward a man to give regularity to this great move-
ment— this was Carnot. Formerly an officer of engineers, afterwards member
of the Convention and of the committee of public welfare, sharing in some
measure its inviolability, he could with impunity introduce order into too
disjointed operations, and above all, command a unity which no ministet
before him had been sufficiently powerful to impose upon them. On<
the principal causes of our preceding reverses was the confusion which
accompanies a great agitation. The committee once established and become
irresistible, and Carnot being invested with all the power of that committee,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 325
obedience was paid to the intelligence of the skilful mind, which, calculating
from a general view of the whole, prescribed movements perfectly harmo*
nizing together, and tending to one and the same end. A general could no
longer, as Damotlriei and Custine had formerly done, act each in his own
way, by drawing the whole war and all the means to himself. Representa-
tives could no longer command some manoeuvres, or thwart others, or modify
the superior orders. Both were obliged to obey the supreme will of the
committee, and to adhere to the uniform plan which it had prescribed.
Placed thus at the centre, soaring over all the frontiers, the mind of Carnot
became enlarged as it rose. He conceived widely extended plans, in which
prudence was united widi boldness.* The instructions sent to Houchard
afford a proof of this. His plans, it is true, had sometimes the inconve-
nience of plans formed in offices. When his orders arrived, they were not
always either adapted to the places, or practicable at the moment; but they
redeemed by their harmony the inconvenience of the details, and secured
for us in the following year universal triumphs.
Carnot had hastened to the northern frontier to Jourdan. It had been
resolved to attack, the enemy boldly, though he appeared formidable. Carnot
asked the general for a plan, that he might judge of his views and reconcile
them with those of the committee, that is, with his own. The allies, return-
ing from Dunkirk towards the middle of the line, had collected between the
Scheldt and die Meuse, and composed there a formidable mass capable of
striking decisive blows. We have already described the theatre of the war.
Several lines divided the space 'comprised between the Meuse and the sea,
namely, the Lys, the Scarpe, the Scheldt, and the Sambre. The allies, in
taking Conde and Valenciennes, had secured two important points on the
Scheldt. Le Quesnoy, which they had just reduced, gave them a support
between the Scheldt and the Sambre; but they had none upon the Sambre
itself. They thought of Maubeuge, which, by its position on the Sambre,
would have made them almost masters of the space comprised between that
river and the Meuse. At the opening of the next campaign, Valenciennes
and Maubeuge would furnish them with an excellent base of operations, and
their campaign of 1793 would not have been entirely useless. Their last
project consisted therefore in occupying Maubeuge.
On the part of the French, among whom the spirit of combination began
to develop itself, it was the intention to act, by Lille and Maubeuge, on the two
wings of the enemy, and in thus attacking him on both flanks, it was hoped
they should make his centre fall. In this manner Uiey would be under the
liability of sustaining his whole effort* on one or other of the wings, and
they would leave hint all the advantage of his mass ; but Uiere was cer-
tainly more originality in this conception than in those which had preceded
it. Meanwhile the most urgent point was to succour Maubeuge. Jourdan,
• " The royalists and their foreign allies have never been able to forgive Carnot's signal
military exploits during the war of the French Revolution; and affected to confound him
with Robespierre, as if he had been the accomplice of that monster in the Reign of Terror.
Situated as Carnot then was, he had but one alternative — either to continue in the committee
of public safety, co-operating with men whom he abhorred, and lending his name to their
worst deeds, while he was fain to close his eyes upon their details; or to leave the tremen-
dous war which France was then waging for her existence, in the hands of men so utterly
unfit to conduct the machine an instant, that immediate conquest, in its worst shape, must
have been the consequence of his desertion. There may be many an honest man who
would have preferred death to any place in Robespierre's committee ; but it is fair to state
that in all probability Carnot saved his country by persevering in the management of the
war." — Edinburgh Hcvitw. E.
2E
326 HISTORY OF THE
leaving nearly fifty thousand men in the camps of Gavarelle, Lille, and
Cassel, to form his left wing, collected as many troops as possible at Gi.
He had composed a mass of about forty-five thousand men, already organ-
ized, and he caused the new levies proceeding from the permanent requisi-
tion to be formed into regiments with the utmost despatch. These lei
however, were in such disorder, that he was obliged to leave detachments of
troops of the line to guard them. Jourdan, therefore, fixed upon Guise as
the rendezvous of all the recruits, and advanced in five columns to the relief
of Maubeuge.
The enemy had already invested that place. Like Valenciennes and
Lille, it was supported by an intrenched camp, situated on the right bank
of the Sambre, on the very side upon which the French wen; advancing.
Two divisions, those of Generals Desjardins and Mayer, guarded the course
of the Sambre, one above, the other below, Maubeuge. The enemy, in-
stead of advancing in two close masses, driving back Desjardins upon Mau-
beuge and Mayer beyond Charleroy, where he would have been lost, passed
the Sambre in small masses, and allowed the two divisions of Desjardins
and Mayer to unite in the intrenched camp of Maubeuge. It was judicious
enough to separate Desjardins from Jourdan, and to have thus prevented
him from strengthening the active army of the French ; but in Buffeting
Mayer to join Desjardins the allies had permitted those two generals to form
under Maubeuge a corps of twenty thousand men, which could play something
more than the part of a mere garrison, especially on the approach of the main
army under Jourdan. The difficulty, however, of subsisting this numerous
assemblage was a most serious inconvenience to Maubeuge, and might, in
some measure, excuse the enemy's generals for having permitted the junction.
The Prince of Coburg placed the Dutch, to the number of twelve thou-
sand, on the left bank of the Sambre, and endeavoured to set fire to the
magazines of Maubeuge, in order to increase the dearth. He sent General
Colloredo upon the right bank, and charged him to invest the intrenched
camp. In advance of Colloredo, Clairfayt, with three divisions, formed
the corps of observation, and was directed to oppose the march of 'Jourdan.
The allies numbered nearly sixty-five thousand men.
The Prince of Coburg, had he possessed boldness and genius, would
have left fifteen or twenty thousand men at most to overawe Maubeuge ; be
would then have marched with forty-five or fifty thousand upon Genera]
Jourdan, and would have infallibly beaten him, for, with the advantag
the offensive, and in equal number, his troops must have beaten ours whicfl
were still badly organized. Instead of this, however, the Prince of Coburg
left about thirty-five thousand men around the place, and remained in observa-
tion with about thirty thousand, in the positions of Dourlers and \Y
In this state of things, it was not impossible for General Jourdan to break
at one point through the line occupied by the corps of observation, to man h
upon Colloredo who was investing the intrenched camp, to place him
two fires, and, after overwhelming him, to unite the whole army of Mau-
beuge with himself, to form with it a mass of sixty thousand men. and to
beat all the allies placed on the right bank of the Sambre. For this purp
lie must have directed a single attack upon Watignies, the w< :it :
but, by moving exclusively to that side, he would have left open the ro:<..l of
<nes, leading to Guise, where our base was, and the rendezvous of all
our depots.
The French genera] prefi rred a more prudent though loss brilliant plan,
and attacked the corps of observation on four points, so as still to keep the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 327
road to Avosncs and Guise. On his left he detached Fromentin's division
upon St. Wast, with orders to march between the Sambre and the enemy's
right. General Ballaud, with several batteries, was to place himself in the
centre, facing Dourlers, and to keep Clairfayt in check by a heavy cannon-
ade. General Duquesnoy wu to advance with the right upon Watignies,
which formed the left of the enemy, somewhat behind die central position
of Dourlers. This point was occupied by only a weak corps. A fourth
division, that of General Beauregard, placed beyond the right, was to second
Duquesnoy in his attack on Watignies. These various movements were not
very closely connected, nor did they bear upon the decisive points. They
were executed on the morning of the 15th of October. General Fromentin
made himself master of St. Wast; but, not having taken the precaution to
keep close to the woods in order to shelter himself from the enemy's cavalry,
he was attacked and thrown back into the ravine of St. Remi. At the centre,
where Fromentin was supposed to be in possession of St. Wast, and where
it was known that the right had succeeded in approaching Watignies, Gene-
ral Ballaud resolved to advance further, and instead of cannonading Dourlers
he thought of taking it. It appears that this was the suggestion of Carnot,
who decided the attack in spite of General Jourdan. Our infantry threw
itself into the ravine which separated it from Dourlers, ascended the height
under a destructive fire, and reached a plateau where it had formidable bat-
teries in front, and in flank a numerous cavalry ready to charge. At the
same moment, a fresh corps which had just contributed to put Fromentin to
the rout, threatened to fall upon it on the left. General Jourdan exposed
himself to the greatest danger in order to maintain it; but it gave way, threw
itself in disorder into the ravine, and very fortunately resumed its positions
without being pursued. We had lost nearly a thousand men iruthis attempt,
and our left under Fromentin had lost its artillery. General Duquesnoy, on
the right, had alone succeeded, and approached Watignies according to his
instructions.
After this attempt, the French were better acquainted with the position.
They had found that Dourlers was too strongly defended for the principal
attack to be directed on that point ; that Watignies, which was scarcely
guarded by General Tercy, and situated behind Dourlers, might be easily
carried, and that this place once occupied by our main force, the position of
Dourlers must necessarily fall. Jourdan therefore detached six or seven
thousand men towards his right, to reinforce General Duquesnoy ; he ordered
General Beauregard, too far off with his fourth column, to fall back from
Eule upon Obrechies, so as to make a concentric effort upon Watignies con-
jointly with General Duquesnoy ; but he persisted in continuing his demon-
stration on the centre, and making Fromentin march towards the left, in
order still to embrace the whole front of the enemy.
Next day, the 10th, the attack commenced. Our infantry, debouching by
the three villages of Dinant, Demichaux, and ('noisy, attacked Watignies.
The Austrian grenadiers, who connected Watignies with Dourlers, were
driven into the woods. The enemy's cavalry was kept in check by the
light artillery placed for the purpose, and Watignies was carried. General
egard, less fortunate, was surprised by a brigade which the Austrian*
had detached against him. His troops, exaggerating the force of the enemy,
dispersed, and gave up part of the ground. At Dourlers and St. Watt, du>
two armies had kept each other in check; but Watigni icupied, and
that was an essential point. Jourdan, in order to insure the possession of
it. reinforced his right there with five or six thousand more men. <
328 HISTORY OF THE
too ready to give way to danger, retired, notwithstanding the success obtained
over Beauregard, and the arrival of the Duke of York, who came by a forced
march from the other side of the Sarabre. It is probable that the fear of
seeing the French unite with the twenty thousand men in the intrenched
camp, prevented him from persisting to occupy the left bank of the Sambre.
It is certain that, if the army of Maubeuge, on hearing the cannon at Watig-
nies, had attacked the weak investing corps, and endeavoured to march
towards Jourdan, the allies might have been overwhelmed. The soldiers
demanded this with loud cries, but General Ferrand opposed the measure;
and General Chancel, to whom this refusal was erroneously attributed, was
sent before the revolutionary tribunal. The successful attack of Watignies
decided the raising of the siege of Maubeuge, as that of Ilondtschoote had
decided the raising of the siege of Dunkirk. It was called the victory of
Watignies, and produced the strongest impression on the public mind.*
The allies were thus concentrated between the Scheldt and the Sambre.
The committee of public welfare, anxious to profit without Loai of time by
the victory of Watignies, by the discouragement which it had produced in
the enemy, and by the energy which it had infused into our army, resolved
to try a last effort for driving the allies before winter out of the French terri-
tory, and leaving them with the disheartening conviction of a campaign
entirely lost. The opinion of Jourdan and Carnot was against that of the
committee. They thought that the rains, already very abundant, the bad
state of the roads, and the fatigue of the troops, were sufficient reasons for
entering into winter quarters, and they conceived that the unfavourable season
should be employed in training the troops and organizing the army. The
committee, nevertheless, insisted that the territory should be cleared, alleging
that at this season a defeat could not have any great results. Agreeably to
the idea recently suggested of acting upon the wings, the committee nTC
orders for marching by Maubeuge and Charleroy, on the one hand, and by
Cysaing, Maulde, and Tournay, on the other, and thus enveloping the
enemy on the territory which he had invaded. The ordinance (arret?) was
signed on the 22d of October. Orders were issued in consequence ; the
army of the Ardennes was to join Jourdan; the garrisons of the fortresses
were to march out, and to be replaced by the new requisitions.
The war in La Vendee had just been resumed with new activity. We
have seen that Canclaux had fallen back to Nantes, and that the columns of
Upper Vendee had returned to Angers and Saumur. Before the decrees
which united the two armies of La Rochelle and Brest into one, and con-
ferred the command of it on General Lechelle, were known, Canclaux
preparing a new offensive movement. The garrison <>f Mayence was already
reduced by war and disease to nine or ten thousand men. The division of
Brest, beaten under Beysser, was almost disorganized. Canclaux, never-
theless, resolved upon a very bold march into the heart of La Vendee, and
at the same time he solicited Rossignol to second him with his army. Ros-
signol immediately summoned a council of war at Saumur, on the 2d of
• "At daybreak, Jourdan assailed the village of Watignies with three columns, while a
concentric fire of artillery scattered the troops who defended it. In the midst of the roar of
cannon, which were discharged with uncommon vigour, the republican songs which rose
from the French lines could 1k> distinctly heard by the Austrians. The village was speedily
carried, while, at the same time, the appearance of the reserve of Jourdan on the left flank
of the. allies, completed the discouragement of Coburg, and induced a general retreat, with a
loss of six thousand men. This victory allayed a dangerous ferment which was commencing
in the French capital.'' — Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 329
October, and prevailed on it to decide that the columns of Saumur, Thouars,
and Chutaisjneraye, should join on the 7th at Bressuire, and thence march
to Chatillon to make their attack concurrently with that of Canclaux. At
the same time he directed the two columns of Lucon and Les Sables to kcftp
the defensive, on account of their late reverses and the dangers which threat-
ened them from the side of Lower Vendee.
Meanwhile Canclaux had advanced on the 1st of October to Montaigu,
pushing reconnoitrinir parties as far as St. Fulgent, with a view to connect
himself by his right with the column of Lucon, if it were capable of resum-
ing the offensive. Emboldened by the success of his march, he ordered the
advanced guard, still commanded by Kle'oer, to proceed to Tiffauges. Four
thousand Mayencais fell in with the army of D'Elbee and Bonchamps at St.
Symphorien, put it to the rout after a sanguinary action, and drove it back
to a great distance. The same evening the decree arrived which dismissed
Canclaux, Aubert-Dubayet, and Grouchy. It produced very great discontent
in the column of Mayence; and Phillippeaux, Gillet, Merlin, and Rewbel,
who saw the army deprived of an excellent general at the moment when it
was exposed in the heart of Vendee, were indignant at it. It was no doubt
an excellent measure to confer the general command of the West upon a
single person, but some other individual ought to have been selected to bear
the burden. Lechelle was ignorant and cowardly, says Kleber, in his me-
moirs, and never once showed himself in the fire. A mere officer in the
army of La Rochelle, he was suddenly advanced, like Rossignol, on account
of his reputation for patriotism ; but it was not known that, possessing neither
the natural talent of Rossignol, nor his bravery, he was as bad a soldier as
he was a general. Till he should arrive, Kleber assumed the command.
The army remained in the same positions between Montaigu and Tiffauges.
At length, on the 6th of October, Lechelle arrived, and a council was held
in his presence. Intelligence had just been received of the march of the
columns of Saumur, Thouars, and Chataigneraye, upon Bressuire; it was
then agreed that the army should continue its march upon Cholet, where it
should form a junction with the three columns united at Bressuire; and at
the same time orders were given to the rest of the Lucon division to advance
towards the general rendezvous. Lechelle comprehended none of the rea-
soning of the generals, and approved every thing, saying, We must march
majestically and en masse. Kleber folded up his map contemptuously.
Merlin declared that the most ignorant of men had been selected to command
the most critically-situated army. From that moment Kleber was authorised
by the representatives to direct the operations alone, merely, for form's sake,
reporting them to Lechelle. The latter profited by this arrangement to keep
at a great distance from the field of batde. Aloof from danger, he hated the
brave men who were fighting for him, but at least he allowed them to fight
when and as much as they pleased.
At this moment Charette, perceiving the dangers which threatened the
chiefs of Upper Vendee, separated himself from them, assigning false reasons
of dissatisfaction, and repaired to the coast with the intention of seizing the
island of Noirmoutiers. He actually made himself master of it on the 12th
by a surprise and by the treachery of the officer who had the command
there. He was thus sure of saving his division and being able to enter into
communication with the English; but he left the party in Upper Vendee
exposed to almost inevitable destruction. He might bava acted in a manner
much more beneficial to the common cause. He might have attacked the
column of Mayence in the rear, and perhaps have destroyed it. The chiefs
vol. ii. — 42 2 E 2
330 HISTORY OF THE
of the grand army sent him letters upon letters soliciting him to do so, but
they never received any answer.
Those unfortunate chiefs of Upper Vendee were pressed on all sides.
The republican columns which were to meet at Bressuire were there by the
specified time, and marched on the 9th from Bressuire for Chatillon. I5v
the way they fell in with the army of M. de Lescure, and threw it into dis-
sorder. Westermann, reinstated in his command, was always with the
advanced guard, at the head of a few hundred men. He was the first to
enter Chatillon on the evening of the 9th. The whole army arrived there
on the 10th. Meanwhile, Lescure and Laroche-Jacquelein had called to
their aid the grand army which was not far from them ; for, being already
cooped up in the centre of the country, they were fighting at no great dis-
tance from one another. All the generals resolved to proceed to Chatillon.
They marched on the 11th. Westermann was already advancing from
Chatillon upon Mortagne, with five hundred men of the advanced guard.
At first, not supposing that he had to do with a whole army, he did not
apply for any great succours to his general, but, being suddenly enveloped,
he was obliged to make a hasty retreat, and returned to Chatillon with his
troops. The town was in an uproar, and the republican army precipitately
quitted it. Westermann joined Chalbos, the general-in-chief, and collecting
around him a few brave men, put a stop to the flight, and even advai
again very nearly to Chatillon. At nightfall he said to some of the soldiers
who had fled, " You lost your honour to-day; you must try to recover it."
He then took a hundred horse, made a hundred grenadiers mount behind
them, and at night, while the Vendeans, crowded together in Chatillon,
were asleep or intoxicated, he had the hardihood to enter the town ami to
throw himself amidst a whole army. The utmost confusion and a frightful
carnage ensued. The Vendeans, in mistake, fought one another, and,
amidst horrible disorder, women, children, and old men were slaughtered.
Westermann retired at daybreak with the thirty or forty men whom he had
left, and rejoined the main body of the army, a league from the city. On the
12th, a tremendous sight struck the Vendeans; they themselves quitted
Chatillon, drenched with blood and a prey to flames,* and proceeded towards
Cholet, whither the Mayencais were marching. Chalbos, after he had
restored order in his division, returned the day after the next, the 14th,
* " Our victory at Chatillon wai complete, and the enemy was pursued in all direction*
General Westermann had fled ; but, seeing himself pursued by only a small detachment, he
stopped, repulsed vigorously our dragoons, and conceived the bold project of returning to
Chatillon. He ordered a hundred hussars to take each of them a grenadier behind and fol-
low him, reaching thus in the night the gates of the town, where there were neither guards
nor sentinel.-. The peasants, having found brandy, were for the most part drunk. The
dragoons who had at first pursued Westermann, endmvourcd to atop him, and fought
courageously. But Westermann had already entered ( Chatillon, and was fighting in the
■tre*M where a horrible slaughter began. The hussars were almost all as drunk as our people,
*j;.l the darkness of the night added to the horror and confusion. The republicans massacred
women and children in the houses, and set fire to everything. The Vendean officers
despatched numbers of them who were so intent on killing as not to think of their own
defence. The Prince of Talmont, coining out of a house, was thrown down by some hussar*,
who did him no other injury, but went in and slaughtered his landlady and her daughter,
who were in reality democrats. Many wives of the republican soldiers were involved in the
promiscuous massacre. In four or live hours, Westermann withdrew, but darkness prevented
his l>eing pursued. The chiefs who were without the town waited for day to re-enter it.
Then it was that the horrors of the night were displayed. Houses on fire — streets strewn
with dead bodies — wounded men, women, and children — in short, with wrecks of every-
thing!"— Memoirs of tin ■ ss dc Larochejaquekin. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 331
to Chatillon, and prepared to march forward again, to form a junction with
the army of Nantes.
All the Vendean chiefs, d'Elbee, Bonchamps, Lescurc, Laroche-Jacijuelein,
were assembled with their forces in the environs of Cholet. The Mayen-
rais, who hail marched on the 14th, approached them; the column of <"ha-
tillon was now not far distant; and the Luc, on division, which had been sent
for, was also advancing, and was to place itself between die columns of
Mayence and Chatillon. The moment of the general junction was, there-
fore, near at hand. On the 15th, the army of Mayence marched in two
masses towards Mortagne, which had just been evacuated. Kleber, with
the main body formed the left, and Beaupuy the right. At the same
moment, the Lucon column drew near MortagDe, hoping to find a battalion
of direction, which Lechelle was to have placed on its route. But that
general, who did nothing, had not even acquitted himself of this accessory
duty. The column was immediately surprised by Lescurc, and was attacked
on all sides. Luckily, Beaupuy, who was very near it from his position
towards Mortagne, hastened to its succour, disposed his troops with judg-
ment, and succeeded in extricating it. The Vendeans were repulsed. The
unfortunate Lescurc received a ball above the eyebrow, and fell into the arms
of his men who bore him away, and betook themselves to flight.* The
Lucon column then joined that of Beaupuy. Young Marceau had just
assumed the command of it. On the left, at the same moment, Kleber had
sustained a combat towards St. Christophe, and had repulsed the enemy.
On the evening of the 15th, all the republican troops bivouacked in the
fields before Cholet, whither the Vendeans had retreated. The Lucon
division consisted of about three thousand men, and formed, with the May-
ence column, a force of nearly twelve or thirteen thousand men.
Next morning, the 15th, the Vendeans, after a few cannon-shot, evacuated
Cholet and fell back upon Beaupreau. Kleber entered the place immedi-
ately, and prohibiting pillage upon pain of death, enforced the strictest order.
The Lucon column had done the same at Mortagne ; so that all the histo-
rians who have asserted that Cholet and Mortagne were burned have com-
mitted an error or advanced a falsehood.
Kleber immediately made all the necessary dispositions, for Lechelle was
two leagues behind. The river Moine runs before Cholet; beyond it is an
unequal, hilly ground, forming a semicircle of heights. On the left of this
semicircle is the wood of Cholet, in the centre Cholet itself, and on the light
an elevated chateau. Kleber placed Beaupuy, with the advanced guard be-
fore the wood, Haxo with the reserve of the Mayencais behind the advanced
guard and in such a manner as to support it ; he posted the Lucon column,
commanded by Marceau, in the centre, and Vimeux with the rest of the
Mayencais on the right, upon the heights. The column of Chatillon arrived
in the night between the 10th and 17th. It consisted of about nine or ten
thousand men, which made the total force of the republicans amount to about
* " Lcsrure was some way before the troops, when, on reaching the top of a rising ground,
ivered at twenty paces from him a republican post. ' Forward !' he called oat to his
but at that moment a ball struck him al>ove the left eye, and came out behind his
car. He instantly dropped lifeless. The peasants having rushed forward, passed over the
body of their general without seeing him, and repulsed the republicans. Young Ueauvilliers,
however, throwing away his sword, called out, weeping, ' He is dead — he is dead !' Tail
alana diffusing itself among the Vendeans, a reserve of Mayenc.ais returned upon them, and
put them to flight. Meantime, Lescure's servant had found his master bathed in blood, but
still breathing. He placed him on a horse, supported by two soldiers, and in this manner
he was conveyed to Deaupreau" — Memoin of the Marchioness de Larochrjaquclein. E,
332 HISTORY OF THE
twenty-two thousand. On the morning of the 17th, a council was held
Kleber did not like his position in advance of Cholet, because it had only one
retreat, namely, the bridge over the river Moine, which led to the town. He
proposed, therefore, to march forward, in order to turn Beaupreau and to
separate the Vendeans from the Loire. The representatives opposed his
opinion, because the column which had come from Chatillon needed a day's
rest.
Meanwhile the Vendean chiefs were deliberating at Beaupreau, amidst a
horrible confusion. The peasants, taking with them their wives, their child-
ren, and their cattle, formed an emigration of more than one hundred thou-
sand souls. Laroche-Jacquelein and d'Elbee proposed that they should fight
to the last extremity on the left bank ; but Talmont and d'Autichamp, who
had great influence in Bretagne, impatiently desired that the insurgent force
should be transferred to the right bank. Bonchatnps, who saw in an excur-
sion to the north coast an opportunity for a great enterprise, and who, it is
said, entertained some scheme connected with England, was for crossing the
Loire. He was nevertheless willing enough to attempt a last effort, and to
try the issue of a general engagement before Cholet. Before commencing
the action he sent off a detachment of four thousand men to Varades, to se-
cure a passage over the Loire in case of defeat.
The batUe was resolved upon. The Vendeans advanced to the number
of forty thousand men upon Cholet, at one in the afternoon of the 15th of
October. The republican general, not expecting to be attacked, had granted
a day of rest. The Vendeans formed in three columns: one directed upon
the left, under Beaupuy and Haxo ; the second on the centre, commanded
by Marceau ; the third on the right, entrusted to Vimeux. The Vendean*
marched in line, and in ranks like regular troops. All the wounded chiefs
who could sit their horses were amidst their peasants, and encouraged them
on that day, which was to decide their existence and the possession of their
homes. Between Beaupreau and the Loire, in every commune that was j c t
left them, mass was celebrated, and prayers were offered up to Heaven for
that cause, so hapless and so imminently endangered.
The Vendeans advanced and came up with Beaupuy's advanced guaxd*
which, as we have said, was placed in a plain in advance of the wood of
Cholet. One portion of them moved forward in a close mass, and charged
in the same manner as troops of the line; another was scattered as riflemen,
to turn the advanced guard and even the left wing, by penetrating into the
wood of Cholet. The republicans, overwhelmed, were forced to fall back.
Beaupuy had two horses killed under him. He fell, entangled by his spurs,
and had very nearly been taken, when he threw himself behind a bagjrage-
wagon, seized a third horse, and rejoined his column. At this moment :
her hastened towards the threatened wing. He ordered the centre and
right not to stir, and sent to desire Chalbos to despatch one of his columns
from Cholet to the assistance of the left. Placing himself near Haxo, he in-
fused new confidence into his battalions, and led back into the fire i.
which had given way to overpowering numbers. The Vendeans, repulsed
in their turn, again charged with fury, and were again repulsed. Meanwhile,
the centre and the right were attacked with the same impetuosity. On
right Vimeux was so advantageously posted, that all the efforts of the enemy
against him proved unavailing.
At the centre, however, the Vendeans advanced more prosperously than
on the two wings, and penetrated to the hollow where young Marceau was
placed. Kleber flew thither to support the column of Lur,on. Just at
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 333
this moment, one of the divisions of Chalbos, for which Kleber had applied,
left Cholet to the number of four thousand men. This reinforcement would
have been of great importance at a moment when the fight was most obsti-
nate; but, at siirli t of the plain enveloped in fire, that division, ill-organized,
like all those of the army of La Rochelle, dispersed, and returned in disor-
der to Cholet. Kleber and Marceau remained in the centre with the Lu^on
column alone. Young Marceau, who commanded it, was not daunted. He
suffered the enemy to approach within musket-shot, then, suddenly un-
masking his artillery, he stopped and overwhelmed the Vendeans by his
unexpected fire. They resisted for a time, rallied, and closed their ranks
under a shower of grape-shot; but they soon gave way, and fled in disorder.
At this moment, their rout became general in the centre, on the right, and on
the left. Beaupuy, moreover, having rallied his advanced guard, closely
pursued them.
The columns of Mayence and Lucon alone had taken any share in the
battle. Thus thirteen thousand men had beaten forty thousand. On both
sides the greatest valour had been displayed ; but regularity and discipline had
decided the advantage in favour of the republicans. Marceau, Beaupuy,
Merlin who pointed the pieces himself, had displayed the greatest heroism.
Kleber had shown his usual skill and energy on the field of battle. On the
part of the Vendeans, d'Elbee and Bonchamps, after performing prodigies of
valour, were mortally wounded ; Laroche-Jacquelein alone was left out of
all their chiefs, and he had omitted nothing to be a partaker of their glorious
wounds. The battle lasted from two o'clock till six.*
It was by this time dark. The Vendeans fled in the utmost haste, throw-
ing away their wooden shoes upon the roads. Beaupuy followed close at
their heels. He had been joined by Westermann, who, unwilling to share
the inaction of the troops under Chalbos, had taken a corps of cavalry, and
followed the fugitives at full gallop. After pursuing the enemy for a very
long time, Beaupuy and Westermann halted, and thought of allowing their
troops some rest. But, said they, we are more more likely to find bread at
Beaupreau than at Cholet; and they had the boldness to march upon Beau-
preau, whither it was supposed that the Vendeans must have retired en
masse. So rapid, however, had been their flight, that one part of them was
already at St. Florent, on the banks of the Loire. The rest, on the approach
of the republicans, evacuated Beaupreau in disorder, and gave up to them a
post where they might have defended themselves.
Next morning, the 18th, the whole army marched from Cholet to Beau-
preau. The advanced guards of Beaupuy, placed on the road to St. Florent,
perceived a great number of people approaching, with shouts of Tlie Repub-
lic forever! Bonchamps forever! On being questioned, they replied by
• "On the morning of the 17th, all the Vendean chiefs marched upon Cholet, at the head
of forty thousand men. The republicans had formed a junction with the divisions of Bres-
suire, and were forty-five thousand strong. It was upon the ground before Cholet that the
armies met. De Larochejaquelein and Stofflet led on a furious attack. For the first time,
the Vendeans marched in close columns, like troops of the line. They broke in furiously
upon the centre of the enemy ; General Beaupuy, who commanded the republicans, was
twice thrown from his horse in endeavouring to rally his soldiers, and nearly taken. Dis-
order was spreading among the Blues, when a reserve of Mayencais arrived. The Vendeans
supported the first shock, and repulsed them ; but, by repeated attacks, they were at last
thrown into disorder. All our chiefs performed prodigies of valour ; but Messrs. D'Elbee
and Bonchamp were mortally wounded, and the rout became general. The republicans re-
turned to Cholet, set fire to the town, and abandoned themselves during the night to all their
accustomed atrocities." — Memoir* of (he Marchioness de Larochrjaauelein. E.
334 HISTORY OF THE
proclaiming Bonchamps their deliverer. That yonng hero, extended on a
mattress, and ready to expire from the effect of a musket-shot in the abdo-
men, had demanded the lives of four thousand prisoners, whom the Vendeans
had hitherto dragged along with them, and whom they threatened to shoot.
He had obtained their release, and they were going to rejoin the republican
army.
At this moment, eighty thousand persons, women and children, aged men
and armed men, were on the banks of the Loire, with the wrecks of their
property, disputing the possession of about a score of vessels to cross to the
other side. The superior council, composed of the chiefs who were still
capable of giving an opinion, deliberated whether they ought to separate, or
to carry the war into Bretagne. Some of them proposed that they should
disperse in La Vendee, and there conceal themselves and wait for better times.
Laroche-Jacquelein was of this number, and he would have preferred dying
on the left bank to crossing over to the right. The contrary opinion, how-
ever, prevailed, and it was decided to keep together and to pass the river.
But Bonchamps had just expired, and there was no one capable of executing
the plans which he had formed relative to Bretagne. D'Elbee was sent, dying,
to Noirmoutiers. Lescure, mortally wounded, was carried on a hand-barr- i
Eighty thousand persons quitted their homes, and went to ravage the neigh-
bouring country, and to seek extermination there — and, gracious God ! for
what object? — for an absurd cause, a cause deserted on all sides, or hypo-
critically defended ! While these unfortunate people were thus generously
exposing themselves to so many calamities, the coalition bestowed scarcely
* " By the last great batde fought near Cholet, the Vendean insurgents were driven down
into the low country on the banks of the Loire. Not only the whole wreck of the army, but
a great proportion of the men, women, and children of the country, flying in consternation
from the burnings and butchery of the government forces, flocked down in agony and despair
to the banks of this great river. On gaining the heights of St Florent, one of the most mourn-
ful, and, at the same time, most magnificent spectacles, burst upon the eye. These heights
form a vast semicircle, at the bottom of which a broad, bare plain, extends to the water's edge.
Near a hundred thousand unhappy souls now blackened over that dreary expanse! Old men,
infants, and women, were mingled with the half-armed soldiery, caravans, crowded baggage-
wagons, and teams of oxen — all full of despair, impatience, anxiety, and terror. Behind, were
the smoke of the burning villages, and the thunder of the hostile artillery. Before, was the
broad stream of the Loire, divided by a long, low island, also covered with the fugitives.
Twenty frail barks were plying in the stream ; and on the far banks were seen the disorderly
movements of those who had effected their passage, and were waiting to be rejoined by their
companions. Such was the tumult and terror of the scene, and so awful wore the recollec-
tions it inspired, that many of its awe-struck spectators have concurred in staling that it
brought forcibly to their imaginations the unspeakable terrors of the great Day of Judgment!
Through this bewildered multitude Lescure's family made their way silently to the shore ;
the general himself, stretched almost insensible on a litter ; his wife, three months gone with
child, walked by his side ; and, behind her, the nurse, with an infant in her arms. When
they arrived on the beach they with difficulty got a crazy boat to carry them to the island ;
but the aged monk who steered it would not venture to cross the larger branch of the stream ;
and the poor wounded man was obliged to submit to the agony of another removal. At length
they were landed on the opposite bank, where wretchedness and desolation appeared *lili
more conspicuous. Thousands of helpless creatures were lying on the grassy shore, or roam-
ing about in search of the friends from whom they had been divided. There was a general
complaint of cold and hunger, yet no one was in a condition to give directions, or administer
relief. Lescure suffered excruefating pain from the piercing air which blew upon his feverish
frame; the poor infant screamed for food, and the helpless mother was left to minister to both;
while the nurse went among the burnt and ruined villages to seek a drop of milk f»r the
baby! At length they got again in motion for the adjoining village of Varadcs, and with
great difficulty procured a little room in a cottage swarming with soldiers." — Edinburgh Re-
view. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 335
a thought upon them, the emigrants were intriguing in courts, some only
were fighting bravely on the Rhine, but in foreign armies ; and nobody had
yet thought of tending t-ither a soldier or a livre to that hapless I, a Vendee,
already distinguished by twenty heroic batUes, and now vanquished, fugitive,
and laid waste.
The republican generals collected their forces at Beaupreau, and there
they resolved to separate, and to proceed partly to Nantes and partly to An-
gers, to prevent a coup dc main on those two towns. The notion of the
representatives, not that of Kleber, immediately was, that La Vendee was
destroyed. La Vendee it no more, wrote they to the Convention. The
army had been allowed time till the 20th to finish the business, and they
had brought it to a close on the 18th. That of the North had, on the same
day, won the battle of Watignies, and closed the campaign by raising the
blockade of Maubeuge. Thus the Convention seemed to have nothing to do
but to decree victory, in order to insure it in all quarters. Enthusiasm was
at its height in Paris, and in all France, and people began to believe that,
before the end of the season, the republic would be victorious over all the
thrones that were leagued against it.
There was but one event that tended to disturb this joy, namely, the loss
of the lines of Weissenburg on the Rhine, which had been forced on the 13th
and 14th of October. After the check at Pirmasens^ we left the Prussians
and the Austrians in presence of the lines of the Sarre and the Lauter, and
threatening them every moment with an attack.
The Prussians, having annoyed the French on the banks of the Sarre,
obliged them to fall back. The corps of the Vosges, driven beyond Horn-
bach, retired to a great distance behind Bitche, in the heart of the mountains ;
the army of the Moselle, thrown back to Sarreguemines, was separated from
the corps of the Vosges and the army of the Rhine. In this position, it be-
came easy for the Prussians, who had on the western slope passed beyond
the general line of the Sarre and the Lauter, to turn the lines of Weissenburg
by their extreme left. These lines must then necessarily fall. This was what
actually happened on the 13th of October. Prussia and Austria, which we
have seen disagreeing, had at length come to a better understanding. The
King of Prussia had set out for Poland, and left the command to Brunswick,
with orders to concert operations with Wurmser. From the 13th to the 14th
of October, while the Prussians marched along the line of the Vosges to
Bitche, considerably beyond the height of Weissenburg, Wurmser was to
attack the lines of the Lauter in seven columns. The first, under the Prince
of Waldeck, encountered insurmountable obstacles in the nature of the
ground, and the courage of a demi-battalion of the Pyrenees ; the second, after
passing the lines below Lauterburg, was repulsed ; the others, after gaining,
above and around Weissenburg, advantages balanced by the vigorous resist-
ance of the French, nevertheless made themselves masters of Weissenburg.
Our troops fell back on the post of the Geisberg, situated a little in rear of
Weissenburir, and much more difficult to carry. Still the lines of Weissen-
burg could not be considered as lost; but the tidings of the march of the
Prussians on the western slope obliged the French general to fall back upon
Haguenau and the lines of the Lauter, and thus to yield a portion of the ter-
ritory to the allies. On this point, then, the frontier was invaded, but the
successes in the North and in La Vendue counteracted the effect of this un-
pleasant intelligence. St. Just and Lebas were sent to Alsace, to repress the
movement which the Alsatian nobility and the emigrants were exciting at
Strasburg. Numerous levies were directed towards that quarter, and the
HISTORY OF THE
government consoled itself with the resolution to conquer on that point as on
every other.
The fearful apprehensions which had been conceived in the month of Au-
gust, before the battles of Hondtschoote and Watignies, before the reduction
of Lyons and the retreat of the Piedmontcse beyond the Alps, and before the
successes in La Vendee, were now dispelled. At this moment, the country
saw the northern frontier, the most important and the most threatened, de-
livered from the enemy; Lyons restored to the republic ; La Vendee 6ubdued ;
all rebellion stifled in the interior, excepting on the Italian frontier, where
Toulon still resisted, it is true, but resisted singly. One more success at the
Pyrenees, at Toulon, on the Rhine, and the republic would be completely
victorious, and this triple success would not be more difficult than those which
had just been gained. The task, to be sure, was not yet finished, but it
might be by a continuance of the same efforts and of the same means. The
government had not yet wholly recovered its assurance, but it no longer con-
sidered itself in danger of speedy death.
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
EFFECTS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY LAWS— PROSCRIPTION AT LYONS,
MARSEILLES, AND BORDEAUX— INTERIOR OF THE PRISONS OF PARIS
—TRIAL AND DEATH OF MARIE ANTOINETTE AND THE GIRONDENB
—GENERAL TERROR— SECOND LAW OF THE MAXIMUM— IMPRISON-
MENT OF FOUR DEPUTIES FOR FORGING A DECREE— ESTABLISH-
MENT OF THE NEW METRICAL SYSTEM AND OF THE REPUBLICAN
CALENDAR— ABOLITION OF THE FORMER RELIGIOUS WORSHIP-
ESTABLISHMENT OF THE NEW WORSHIP OF REASON.
The revolutionary measures decreed for the welfare of France were exe-
cuted throughout its whole extent with the utmost rigour. Conceived by
the most enthusiastic minds, they were violent in their principle ; executed
at a distance from the chiefs who had devised them, in a lower region where
the passions, less enlightened, were more brutal, they became still more
violent in their application. The government obliged one part of the citizens
to leave their homes, imprisoned another part of them as suspected persons,
caused provisions and commodities to be seized for the supply of the armies,
imposed services for their accelerated transport, and gave, in exchange for
the articles or services required, nothing but aeaignata, or a credit upon the
state which inspired no confidence; The assessment of the forced loan was
rapidly prosecuted, and the assessors of the commune said to one, " You
have an income of ten thousand livres ;" to another, " you have twenty thou-
sand ;" and all, without being permitted to reply, were obliged to furnish the
sum required. Great vexations were the result of this most arbitrary system:
but the armies were filled with men, provisions were conveyed in abundance
towards the depots, and the thousand millions in assignats which were to be
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 337
withdrawn from circulation, began to come in. It is not without great
oppression that such rapid operation! can be executed, and tint a state which
is threatened can be saved.
In all those places where more imminent danger had required the presence
of the commissioners of the Convention, the revolutionary measures had he-
come more severe. Near the frontiers, and in all the departments suspected
of royal ism or federalism, those commissioners had levied the population en
masse. They had put everything in requisition; they had raised revolution-
ary taxes on the rich, besides the general tax resulting from the forced loan ;
they had accelerated the imprisonment of suspected persons; and lastly, they
had sometimes caused them to be tried by revolutionary commissioners in-
stituted by themselves. Laplanche, sent into the department of the Cher,
said, on the 29th of Vendemairie to the Jacobins, " I have everywhere made
terror the order of the day ; I have everywhere imposed contributions on the
wealthy and on the aristocrats. Orleans furnished me with fifty thousand livres ;
and at Bourses, it took me but two days to raise two millions. As I could
not be everywhere, my deputies supplied my place: a person named Mamin,
worth seven millions, and taxed by one of the two at forty thousand livres,
complained to the Convention, which applauded my conduct ; and, had the
tax been imposed by myself, he should have paid two millions. At Orleans,
I made my deputies render a public account. It was in the bosom of the
popular society that they rendered it, and this account was sanctioned by
the people. I have everywhere caused the bells to be melted, and have
united several parishes. I have removed all federalists from office, impri-
soned suspected persons, put the sans-culottes in power. Priests had all
sorts of conveniences in the houses of detention ; the sans-culottes were
lying upon straw in the prisons ; the former furnished me with mattresses
for the latter. I have everywhere caused the priests to be married. I have
everywhere electrified the hearts and minds of men. I have organized manu-
factories of arms, visited the workshops, the hospitals, and the prisons. I
have sent off several battalions of the levy en masse. I have reviewed a
great number of the national guards, in order to republicanize them ; and I
have caused several royalists to be guillotined. In short, I have fulfilled my
imperative commission. I have everywhere acted like a warm Mountaineer,
like a revolutionary representative."
It was in the three principal federalist cities, Lyons, Marseilles, and Bor-
deaux, that the representatives struck especial terror. The formidable decree
issued against Lyons enacted that the rebels and their accomplices should be
tried by a military commission ; that the sans-culottes should be maintained
at the expense of the aristocrats ; that the houses of the wealthy should be
destroyed, and that the name of the city should he changed. The execution
of this decree was intrusted to Collot-d'Herbois, Maribon-Montaut, and
Fouche" of Nantes.* They had repaired to Commune-Affranchie, taking
• " Joseph Fouche, born at Nantes in 1763, was intended for his father's profession — a
sea-captain : but, not being strong enough, was sent to prosecute his studies at Paris. He
then taught mathematics and metaphysics at Arras and elsewhere; and, at twenty-five years
of age, was placed at the head of the college of Nantes. In 1792 he was chosen member of
the Convention, where he voted for the King's death : and was soon after sent with Collot-
d'Herbois on a mission to Lyons. On the fall of Robespierre, Fouche, having been denounced
as a Terrorist, withdrew into obscurity until 1798, when the Directory appointed him French
minister to the Cisalpine republic. In the following year he was mad< minister of police, and
joined Bonaparte on his return from Egypt, who continued him in his post, in order that he
might detect Royalist and Jacobin conspiracies. In 1809, Fouche was intrusted with the
vol. ii. — 43 2 F
338 HISTORY OF THE
with them forty Jacobins, to organize a new club, and to propagate the prin-
ciples of the mother society. Konsin had followed them with two thousand
men of the revolutionary army, and they had immediately let loose their
fury. The representatives had struck the first stroke of a pickaxe upon one
of the houses destined to be demolished, and eight hundred labourers had
instantly fallen to work to destroy the finest streets. The proscriptions had
begun at the same time. The Lyonnese suspected of having borne arms
were guillotined or shot to the number of fifty or sixty a day. Terror
reigned in that unfortunate city. The commissioners sent to punish it,
intoxicated with the blood which they spilt, fancying at every shriek of
anguish, that they beheld rebellion springing again into life, wrote to the
Convention that the aristocrats were not yet reduced, that they wen- only
awaiting an opportunity to rebel again, and that, to remove all further ground
for apprehension, it was necessary to displace one part of the population and
to destroy the other. As the means employed did not appear to be suffi-
ciently expeditious, Collot-d'Herbois conceived the idea of resorting to
mining 'or the purpose of destroying the buildings, and to grape-shot for
sacrificing the proscribed ; and he wrote to the Convention that he should
soon adopt more speedy and more efficacious means for punishing the
rebel city.*
portfolio of the Interior, as well as of the police, and created Duke of Otranto. In the ensuing
year, having given umbrage to Napoleon by entering into negotiations for peace with the
Marquis Wellesley, he was sent into honourable exile as governor of Rome. He was soon
recalled to France, and banished to Aix, where he lived a whole year retired. In 1813, he
was again employed by Napoleon, was sent on a mission to Murat, and returned to Paris a
few days after the declaration of the senate that the Emperor had lost his throne. During the
first restoration Fouche lived partly retired; hut, on Napoleon's return from Elba, the 1.
sent for him ; he preferred, however, to join the Emperor, who a third time made him minis-
ter of police. After the battle of Waterloo, the French chamber placed Fouche at the head
of a provisionary government, and he was afterwards reinstated in the police by the King.
He was soon, however, displaced ; and, having been compromised in the law against regicides
in 1816, retired to Trieste, where he died in 1820. Fouchu's countenance was expressive
of penetration and decision. He was of the middle size, rather thin, of firm health and strong
nerves. The tones of his voice were somewhat hollow and harsh ; in speech he was •
ment and lively; in his appearance plain and simple." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
w ' Fouche" is a miscreant of all colours, a priest, a terrorist and one who took an active
part in many bloody scenes of the Revolution. He is a man,' continued Bonaparte, ' who
can worm all your secrets out of you with an air of calmness and unconcern. He is very rich,
but his riches have befen badly acquired. He never was my confidant Never did he ap-
proach me without bending to the ground; but I never had esteem fur him. I employed him
merely as an instrument.' " — A Voice from St. Helena. E.
" Fouche never regarded a benefit in any other light than as a means of injuring his bene-
factor. He had opinions, but he belonged to no party, and his political success is explained
by the readiness with which he always served the party he knew must triumph, and which
he himself overthrew in its turn. It might be said that his ruling passion was the desire of
continual change. No man was ever characterized by greater levity or inconstancy of mind."
— Bourrienne. E.
• " Attended by a crowd of satellites, Couthon traversed the finest quarters of Lyons
with a silver hammer, and, striking at the door of the devoted houses, exclaimed, ' Rebellious
house, f strike you in the name of the law.' Instantly the agents of destruction, of whom
twenty thousand were in the pay of the Convention, levelled the dwelling to the ground.
But this was only a prelude to a more bloody vengeance. Collot-d'Herbois was animated
with a secret hatred towards the Lyonnese ; for, ten years before, when an obscure actor, he
had been hissed ofT their stage. He now resolved at leisure to gratify his revenge. Fouche,
his worthy associate, published, before his arrival, a proclamation in which he declared that
the French people could acknowledge no other worship than that of universal morality ;
that all religious emblems should be destroyed : and that over the gates of the. church-yards
should be written — Death it an eternal Sleep .' Proceeding on these atheistical principles,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 339
At Marseilles, several victims had already fallen. But the utmost wrath
of the representatives was directed against Toulon, the siege of which they
wiTt- carrying on.
In the Gironde, vengeance was exercised with tlie greatest fury. Isabcau
and Tallien had stationed themselves at La Reole ; there they wi
in forming the nucleus of a revolutionary army, for the purpose of pene-
trating into Bordeaux ; meanwhile they endeavoured to disorganize die
sections of that city. To this end they made use of one section, which was
the first step of Collot-d'Herbois and Fouche was to institute a fete in honour of (Jhalier, the
republican governor of Lyons, who had been put to death on the first insurrection. His
bust was carried through the streets, followed by an immense crowd of assassins and prosti-
tutes. After them came an ass bearing the Gosjiel, the Cross, and the communion vases,
which were soon committed to the flames, while the ass was compelled to drink out of the
communion-cup the consecrated wine ! The executions meantime continued without the
slightest relaxation. Many women watched for the hour when their husbands were to pass
to the eeeJfoU, precipitated themselves upon the chariot, and voluntarily suffered death by
their side. Daughters surrendered their honour to save their parent's lives ; but the monsters
who violated them, adding treachery to crime, led them out to behold the execution of their
relatives ! Deeming the daily execution of fifteen or twenty persons too tardy a display of
republican vengeance, Collot-d'Herbois prepared a new and simultaneous mode of punish-
ment. Sixty captives of both sexes were led out together, tightly bound in a file, to the
Place du Brotteaux . they were arranged in two files with a deep ditch on each side, which
was to be their place of sepulture, while gendarmes with uplifted sabres threatened with in-
stant death whoever moved from their position. At the extremity of the file, two cannon,
loaded with grape, were so placed as to enfilade the whole. The signal was then given, and
the guns were fired. Broken limbs, torn off by the shot, were scattered in every direction ;
while the blood flowed in torrents into the ditches on either side the line. A second and
third discharge were insufficient to complete the work of destruction, till, at length, the
gendarmes, unable to witness such protracted sufferings, rushed in, and despatched the sur-
vivors with their sabres. On the following day, this bloody scene was renewed on a still
greater scale. Two hundred and nine captives were brought before the revolutionary judges,
and, with scarcely a hearing, condemned to be executed together. With such precipitance
was the affair conducted, that two commissaries of the prison were led out along with their
captives ; their cries, their protestations, were alike disregarded. In passing the bridge
Morand, the error was discovered on the captives being counted ; and it was intimated to
Collot-d'Herbois that there were too many. ' What signifies it,' said he, ' that there are too
many? If they die to-day, they cannot die to-morrow.' The whole were brought to the
place of execution, where they were attached to one cord made fast to trees at stated intervals,
with their hands tied behind their backs, and numerous pickets of soldiers disposed so as at
one discharge to destroy them all. At a given signal the fusillade commenced ; but few
were killed ; the greater part had only a jaw or a limb broken ; and uttering the most
piercing cries, they broke loose in their agony from the rope, and were cut down by the
gendarmes. The great numbers who survived the discharge, rendered the work of destruc-
tion a most laborious operation, and several were still breathing on the following day,
vhen their bodies were mingled with quicklime, and cast into a common grave. Collot-
d'Herbois and Fouch.- were witnesses of this butchery from a distance, by means of tele-
scopes which they directed to the spot. All the other fusillades were conducted in the same
manner. One ■>( them was executed under the windows of an hotel on the Quay, where
Fouche, with thirty Jacobins and twenty courtezans, was engaged at dinner. They rose
from table to enjoy the bloody spectacle. The Iwdies of the slain were floated in such num-
bers down the Rhone that the waters were poisoned. During the course of five months,
upwards of six thousand persons suffered death, and more than double that number were
driven into exile." — Alison. E.
" One day, during the bloody executions which took place at Lyons, a young girl rushed
into the hall where the revolutionary tribunal was held, and throwing herself at the feet of the
judges, said, 'There remain to me of all my family, only my brothers ! Mother — father —
■latere uncles — you have butchered all ; and now you are going to condemn my brothers.
Ah. in mercy, ordain that I may ascend the scaffold with them !' Her prayer, accompanied
as it was with all the marks of frantic despair, waa refused. She then threw hersolf into the
Rhone, where she perished." — Du Broca. E.
340 HISTORY OF THE
wholly Mountaineer, and which, contriving to frighten others, had succes-
sively caused the federalist club to be shut up, and the departmental authori-
ties to be displaced. They had then entered Bordeaux in triumph, and
re-established the municipality and the Mountaineer authorities. Immedi-
ately afterwards, they had passed an ordinance purporting that the govern-
ment of Bordeaux should be military, that all the inhabitants should be
disarmed, that a commission should be established to try the aristocrats and
the federalists, and that an extraordinary tax should be immediately levied
upon the rich, to defray the expenses of the revolutionary army. This
ordinance was forthwith put in execution ; the citizens were disarmed ; and
a (jreat number perished on the scaffold.*
It was precisely at this time that the fugitive deputies who had embarked
in Bretagne for the Gironde arrived at Bordeaux. They all went and sought
an asylum with a female relative of Guadet in the caverns of St. Emilion.
There was a vague rumour that they were concealed in that quarter, and
Tallien made all possible efforts to discover them.t He had not yet suc-
ceeded, but he had unfortunately seized Biroteau, who had come from Lyons
to embark at Bordeaux. This latter had been outlawed. Tallien imme-
diately caused his identity to be verified and his execution to be consum-
mated. Duchatel was also discovered. As he had not been outlawed, he
was sent to Paris to be tried by the revolutionary tribunal. He was accom-
panied by the three young friends, Riouffe, Giray-Dupre, and Marchenna,
who were, as we have seen, attached to the fortune of the Girondins.
Thus all the great cities of France experienced the vengeance of the
Mountain. But Paris, full of illustrious victims, was soon to become the
theatre of much greater cruelties.
* " The greatest atrocities were committed at Bordeaux. — A woman was charged with the
heinous crime of having cried at the execution of her husband ; 6he was condemned in con-
sequence to sit several hours under the suspended blade, which shed upon her, drop by drop,
the blood of the deceased, whose corpse was above her on the scaffold, before she was released
by death from her agony." — Louvet's Memoirs. E.
[ " Guadet found a place of safety for some of his Girondin friends in the house of one of
his female relations, whose name was Bouquet The news of this unexpected relief being
carried to three companions of those proscribed deputies, they determined to beg this coura-
geous woman to permit them to share the retreat of their friends. She consented, and
they reached her house at midnight, where they found their companions lodged thirt;
under ground, in a large, well-concealed vault. A few days after, Buzot and lViion informed
Guadet by letter, that having within fifteen days changed their place of retreat seven times,
they were now reduced to the greatest distress. ' Let them come too,' said Madame Bou-
quet, and they came accordingly. The difficulty to provide for them all was now great, for
provisions were extremely scarce in the department. Madame Bouquet's house was allowed
fay the municipality only one pound of bread daily ; but, fortunately, she had a stock of pota-
toes and dried kidney-beans. To save breakfast, it was agreed that her guests should not
rise till noon. Vegetable soup was their sole dinner. Sometimes, a morsel of beef, procured
with great difficulty, an egg or two, some vegetables, and a little milk, formed their supper,
of which the generous hostess ate but little, the better to support her guests. One of the cir-
cumstances which adds infinite value to this extraordinary event was, that Madame Bouquet
concealed as long as she could from her guests the uneasiness which consumed her, occa-
sioned by one of her relations, formerly the friend of Guadet. This man, having learned
what passed in Madame Bouquet's house, put in action every means his mind could suggest
to induce her to banish the fugitives. Every day he came to her with stories more terrible
one than the other. At length, fearing that he would take some desperate measure, she was
compelled to lay her situation before her guests, who, resolved not to be outdone in genero-
sity, instantly quitted her house. Shortly after, Madame Bouquet and the whole family of
Guadet were arrested, and perished on the scaffold." — Anecdotes of the Revolution. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 341
While preparations were making for the trial oi' If aria Antoinette, of the
Girondins, of the Duke of Orleans, of Baillv, and of a great number of
generals and ministers, the prisons were being filled with mi noM.
The commune of Paris had arrogated to itself, as we have said, a sort of
legislative authority over all matters of police, provisions, commerce, and
religion; and with every decree it issued an explanatory ordinance to extend
or limit the enactments of the Convention. On the requisition of ( .'hauinette,
it had singularly extended the definition of suspected persons given by the
law of the 17th of September. Chaumette had, in a municipal instruction,
enumerated the characters by which they were to be recognised. This
instruction, addressed to the sections of Paris, and soon afterwards to all
those of the republic, was couched in these terms :
"The following are to be considered as suspected persons — 1, Those
who, in the assemblies of the people, check their energy by crafty addresses,
turbulent cries, and threats ; 2, those who, more prudent, talk mysteriously
of the disasters of the republic, deplore the lot of the people, and are
always ready to propagate bad news with affected grief; 3, those who have
chanced their conduct and language according to events ; who, silent re-
specting the crimes of the royalists and the federalists, disclaim with empha-
sis against the slight faults of the patriots, and, in order to appear repub-
licans, affect a studied austerity and severity, and who are all indulgence in
whatever concerns a moderate or an aristocrat; 4, those who pity the farmers
and the greedy shopkeepers, against whom the law is obliged to take mea-
sures ; 5, those who, though they have the words liberty, republic, and
country, continually in their mouths, associate with ci-devant nobles, priests,
counter-revolutionists, aristocrats, Feuillans, and moderates, and take an
interest in their fate; 6, those who have not taken an active part in anything
connected with the Revolution, and who, to excuse themselves from doing
so, plead the payment of their contributions, their patriotic donations, then
services in the national guard by substitute or otherwise ; 7, those who have
received the republican constitution with indifference, and have expressed
false fears concerning its establishment and its duration ; 8, those who.
though they have done nothing against liberty, have done nothing for it;
J), those who do not attend their sections, and ;dlege in excuse that they are
no speakers, or that they are prevented by business; 10, those who speak
contemptuously of the constituted authorities, of the signs of the law, of
the popular societies, of the defenders of liberty; 11, those who have
signed counter-revolutionary petitions or frequented anti-civic societies and
clubs ; 12, those who are known to have been insincere, partisans of Lafay-
ette, and of those who marched to the charge in the Champ de Mars."
With such a definition, the number of suspected could not fail to be un-
limited, and it soon rose in the prisons of Paris from a few hundred to three
thousand. They had at first been confined in the Maire, in La Force, in
the Conciergerie, in the Abbaye, at St. Pelagie, at the Madelonettes, in all
the ordinary prisons of the state; but, these vast depots proving insufficient,
it became necessary to provide new places of confinement, specially appro-
priated to political prisoners. As these prisoners were required to pay all
the expenses of their maintenance, houses were hired at their cost. One
was selected in the Rue d'Enfer, which was known by the name of M
de Port-Libre, and another in the Rue de Sevres, called Maison Lazan .
The college of Duplessis was converted into a place of confinement ; lastly,
the palace of the Luxembourg, at first destined to the twentv-two
2 f 2
343 HISTORY OF THE
Girondins, was filled with a great number of prisoners,* and there were
huddled together pell-mell all that were left of the brilliant society of the
fauxbourg St. Germain. These sudden arrests having caused the prisons to
be exceedingly crowded, the prisoners were at first badly lodged. Mingled
with malefactors, and having to lie upon straw, they Buffered most cruelly
during the first moments of their detention.t Time soon brought better
order and more indulgence. They were allowed to have communication
with persons outside the prisons ; they had the consolation to embrace
their relatives, and liberty to procure money for themselves. They then
hired or had beds brought to them ; they no longer slept upon straw, and
they were separated from the criminals. All the accommodations which
could render their condition more endurable were granted to them, for the
decree permitted them to have anything they wanted brought into the
houses of confinement. Those who inhabited the houses recently esta-
blished were treated still better. At Porte-Libre, in the Maison La/
and at the Luxembourg, where wealthy prisoners "were confined, clean-
liness and abundance prevailed. The tables were supplied with delica
upon payment of certain fees demanded by the gaolers. As, how<
concourse of visiters became too considerable, and the intercourse with
persons outside appeared to be too great a favour, this consolation was pro-
hibited, the prisoners could only communicate by writing, and they were
obliged to have recourse to the same method for procuring such things
they needed. From that moment the unfortunate persons doomed to asso-
ciate exclusively together seemed to be bound to each other by much closer
ties than before. Each sought intimates of corresponding character and
tastes, and little societies were formed. Regulations wore established ; the
domestic duties were divided among them, and each performed them in bis
turn. A subscription was opened for the expenses of lodging and board,
and thus the rich contributed for the poor.
After attending to their household affairs, the inmates of the different
• " At this period the gardens of the Luxembourg every day offered a scene aa interesting
as it is possible to imagine. A multitude of married women from the various quarters of
Paris crowded together, in the hope of seeing their husbands for a moment at the windows
of the prison, to offer, or receive from them, a look, a gesture, or some other testimony of
their affection. No weather banished these women from the gardens — neither the ex
of heat or cold, nor tempests of wind or rain. Some almost appeared to be changed into
statues; others, worn out with fatigue, have been seen, when their husbands at length
appeared, to fall senseless to the ground. One would present herself with an infant in her
arms, bathing it with tears in her husband's sight ; another would disguise herself in the
dress of a beggar, and sit the whole day at the foot of a tree, where she could be seen by
her husband. The miseries of these wretched women were greatly enhanced when a high
fence was thrown round the prison, and they were forbidden to remain stati"iiary in any
spot. Then were they seen wandering like shades through the dark and melancholy avenues
of the garden, and casting the most anxious looks at the impenetrable walls of the palace." —
l):i Itnicii. E.
f " Hardly ever docs daylight penetrate into some of these gloomy prisons. The straw
A-hich composes the litter of the captive* soon becomes rotten, from want of air and the
ordure with which it is covered. The dungeons in the worst of the prisons are seldom
opened but for inspection, or to ^ive food to the tenants. The ropericr class of rhn"
(•ailed the straw apartments, ditfer little from the dungeons, except that their inhabitants are
permitted to go out at eight in the morning, and to remain out till an hour Iwfore sol
During the intervening period they are allowed to walk in the court, or huddle together in
the galleries which surround it, where they are suffocated by infectious odours. The ceils
lor the women are as horrid as those for the men, equally dark — damp— filthy — crowded —
and it was there that all the rank and beauty of Paris was assembled."— History oj
Cimvent'wn. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 343
rooms assembled in the common halls. Groups were formed around a
table, a stove, or a fireplace. Some employed themselves in writing, others
in reading of* conversation. Poets, thrown into prison with all thole who
excited distrust by any superiority whatever, recited verses. Musicians
toncerts, and admirable music was daily heard In these places of pro-
scription. Luxury soon became the companion of pleasure. The females
indulged in dress, ties of friendship and of love were formed,* and all the
Wines of ordinary life were reproduced here till the very day that the scaf-
fold was to put an end to them — singular example of the French character,
of its thoughtlessness, its gaiety, its aptitude to pleasure, in all the situations
of life !
Delightful poems, romantic adventures, acts of beneficence, a singular
confusion of ranks, fortune, and opinion, marked these first three months
of the detention of the suspected. A sort of voluntary equality realized in
places that chimerical equality which its heated votaries wished to
introduce everywhere, and which they succeeded in establishing nowhere
but in the prisons. It is true that the pride of certain prisoners withstood
this equality of misfortune. While men very unequal in regard to fortune
and education were seen living on the best terms together, and rejoicing
with admirable disinterestedness in the victories of that republic which per-
secuted them, some ci-devant nobles and their wives, found by chance in the
deserted mansions of the fauxbourg St. Germain, lived apart, still called
themselves by the proscribed titles of count and marquis, and manifested
their mortification when the Austrians had fled at Watignies, or when the
Prussians had not crossed the Vosges. Affliction, however, brings back all
hearts to nature and to humanity ; and soon, when Fouquier-Tinville, knock-
ing daily at these abodes of anguish, continually demanded more lives,t
when friends, relatives, were every day parted by death, those who were
left mourned and took comfort together, and learned to entertain one and
the same feeling amidst the same misfortunes.
All the prisons, however, did not exhibit the same scenes. The Concier-
gerie, adjoining the Palace of Justice, and for this reason containing the pri-
soners destined for the revolutionary tribunal, presented the painful spectacle
of some hundreds of unfortunate beings who never had more than three or
four days to live.}: They were removed thither the day before their trial,
and thev remained there only during the interval between their trial and exe-
cution. There were confined the Girondins, who had been taken from their
* " The affections continually called forth flowed with uncommon warmth ; their mutual
fate excited among the prisoners the strongest feelings of commiseration ; and nothing
astonished the few who escaped from confinement so much as the want of sympathy for the
Bufferings of mankind which generally prevailed in the world." — Alison. E.
•f " On one occasion the committee of public safety ordered me to increase the executions
to one hundred and fifty a day ; but the proposal filled my mind with such horror, that, as I
returned from the Seine, the river appeared to run red with blood." — Fauquier-Ti
Speech on his Trial. E.
t " In the prison of the Concier^rrie, among a multitude that hourly expected their trial,
wu a young man who was accompanied by his wife, a young and beautiful woman. One
day, while they were walking in the court with the other prisoners, the wife heard her hus-
band called to the outer gate of the prison. Comprehending that it was the signal of his
death, she ran after him, resolved to share his fute. The gaoler refusul to let inr pa**, With
unusual strength, derived from despair, she made her way, threw herself into her husband's
arms, and btaaoglM them to sutler her to die with him. She was tor.i away by the guards,
and *t the same moment dashed her head violently against the prison gate, and in a few
minutes expired." — Du liroca. E.
344 HISTORY OF TH*.
first prison, the Luxembourg ; Madame Roland, who, after assisting her
husband to escape, had suffered herself to be apprehended without thinking
of flight ; the young Riouffe, Girey-Dupre, and Bois-Guion, attached to the
cause of the proscribed deputies, and transferred from Bordeaux to Paris, to
be tried conjoindy with them; Badly, who had been arrested at Melun;
Clavieres, ex-minister of the finances, who had not succeeded in escaping,
like Lebrun ; the Duke of Orleans, transferred from the prisons of Marseilles
to those of Paris ; the Generals Houchard and Brunet, all reserved for the
same fate; and, lasdy, the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, who was destined
to precede all these illustrious victims to the scaffold. There the inmates
never thought of procuring for themselves those conveniences which soothed
the lot of the persons confined in the other prisons. They dwelt in dull,
dreary cells, to which neither light, nor consolation, nor pleasure, ever pene-
trated. Scarcely were the prisoners allowed the privilege of sleeping on
beds instead of straw. Unable to avoid the sight of death, like the merely
suspected, who imagined that they should only be detained till the p<
they strove to amuse themselves, and produced the most extraordinary paro-
dies of the revolutionary tribunal and of the guillotine. The Girondins, in
their prisons, made extempore, and performed, singular and terrible drai,
of which their destiny and the Revolution was the subject. It was at mid-
night, when all the gaolers had retired to rest, that they commenced these
doleful amusements. One of those which they devised was as follows :
Seated each upon a bed, they personated the judges and the jury of the revo-
lutionary tribunal, and Fouquier-Tinville himself. Two of them, placed
face to face, represented the accused and his defender. According to the
custom of that sanguinary tribunal, the accused was always condemned.
Extended immediately on a bedstead turned upside down, he underwent the
semblance of the punishment even to its minutest details. After many exe-
cutions, the accuser became the accused, and fell in his turn. Returning
then covered with a sheet, he described the torments which he was enduriinr
in hell, foretold their destiny to all these unjust judges, and, seizing them
with frightful cries, dragged them with him to the infernal regions. " It
was thus," said Riouffe,* " that we sported with death, and told the truth in
our prophetic diversions amidst spies and executioners."
Since the death of Custine, the public began to be accustomed to those
political trials, in which mere errors in judgment were Crimea worthy of
death. People began to be accustomed by a sanguinary practice to dismiss
all scruples, and to consider it as natural to send every member of an adverse
party to the scaffold. The Cordeliers and the Jacobins had obtained a
decree for bringing to trial the Queen, the Girondins, several generals, and
the Duke of Orleans. They peremptorily insisted that the promise should
be fulfilled, and it was with the Queen that they were particularly anxious
to commence this long series of immolations. One would think that a
woman ought to have disarmed political fury, but Marie Antoinette was hated
more cordially than Louis XVI. himself. To her were attributed the trea-
sons of the court, the waste of the public money, and, above all. the in\
rate hostility of Austria. Louis XVI., it was said, had suffered everything
• " H. Riouffe, a man of letters, escaped from Paris in 1793, and went to Bordeaux. Tal-
lien hud him arrested in that town, and sent him to the prisons in the capital, where he
remained till after the fall of Kohespierre. In 1799 he was appointed a member of th
lnin.it \ and in 1806 obtained the prefeeture of the Cdte-d'Or. Riouffe published an account
of the prisons in Paris during the Reign of Terror, which was read with great eagerness." —
Biographic Modcrne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 345
to be done ; but it was Marie Antoinette who had done everything, and it
was upon her thai punishment for it ought to fall.
We have already seen what reforms had been made in the Temple.
Marie Antoinette had been separated from her sister, her daughter, and her
son,* by virtue of a decree which ordered the trial or exile of the last mem-
bers of the family of the Bourbons. She had been removed to the Con-
ciergerie ; and there, alone, in a narrow prison, she was reduced to what
was strictly necessary, like the other prisoners. The imprudence of a de-
voted friend had rendered her situation still more irksome. Michonnis, a
member of the municipality, in whom she had excited a warm interest, was
desirous of introducing to her a person who, he said, wished to see her out
of curiosity. This man, a courageous emigrant, threw to her a carnation, in
which was enclosed a slip of very fine paper, with these words : Your
friends arc ready — false hope, and equally dangerous for her who received,
and for him who gave it! Michonnis and the emigrant were detected^and
forthwith apprehended ; and the vigilance exercised in regard to the unfortu-
nate prisoner became from that day more rigorous than ever.t Gendarmes
were to mount guard incessantly at the door of her prison, and they were
expressly forbidden to answer anything that she might say to them.
That wretch Hebert, the deputy of Chaumette, and editor of the disgust-
ing paper of Pire Duchesne, a writer of the party of which Vincent, Ron-
sin, Varlet, and Leclerc, were the leaders — Hebert had made it his particular
business to torment the unfortunate remnant of the dethroned family. He
asserted that the family of the tyrant ought not to be better treated than any
sans-culotte family; and he had caused a resolution to be passed, by which
the sort of luxury in which the prisoners in the Temple were maintained
was to be suppressed. They were no longer to be allowed either poultry
or pastry ; they were reduced to one sort of aliment for breakfast, and to
soup, or broth, and a single dish, for dinner, to two dishes for supper, and
half-a-bottle of wine apiece. Tallow candles were to be furnished instead
of wax, pewter instead of silver plate, and delft ware instead of porcelain.
The wood and water carriers alone were permitted to enter their room, and
that only accompanied by two commissioners. Their food was to be intro-
duced to them by means of a turning box. The numerous establishment was
reduced to a cook and an assistant, two men-servants and a woman-servant
to attend to the linen.
As soon as this resolution was passed, Hebert had repaired to the Tem-
ple, and inhumanly taken away from the unfortunate prisoners even the most
trifling articles to which they attached a high value. Eighty louis which
• " The Queen's separation from her son, for whose sake alone she had consented to en-
dure the burden of existence, was so touching, so heart-rending, that the very gaolers who
witnessed the scene confessed, when giving an account of it to the authorities, that they
could not refrain from tears." — Weber's Memoirs of Marie Antoinette. E.
f " The Queen was lodged in a room called the council-chamber, which was considered
as the most unwholesome apartment in the Conciergerie, on account of its dampness, and the
bad smells by which it was continually affected. Under pretence of giving her a person
to wait upon her, they placed near her a spy — a man of a horrible countenance, and hollow,
sepulchral voice. This wretch, whose name was Barassin, was a robber, and murderer by
ion. Such was the chosen attendant on the Queen of France! A few days before
her trial, this wretch was removed, and a gendarme placed in her chamber who watched
over her night and day, and from whom she was not separated, even when in bed. but by a
ragged curtain. In this melancholy abode Marie Antoinette had no other dress than an old
black gown, stockings with holes, which she was forced to mend every day ; and she was
entirely destitute of shoes." — Du Broca. E.
vol. II.— 44 •
346 HISTORY OF THE
Madame Elizabeth had in reserve, and which she had received from Madame
de Lamballe were also taken away. No one is more dangerous, more cruel,
than the man without acquirements, without education, clothed with a recent
authority. If, above all, he possesses a base nature, if, like Hebert, who
was check-taker at the door of a theatre and embezzled money out of the
receipts, he be destitute of natural morality, and if lie leap all at once from
the mud of his condition into power, he is as mean as he is atrocious. Such
was Hebert in his conduct at the Temple. He did not confine himself to
the annoyances which we have mentioned. He and some others conceived
the idea of separating the young prince from his aunt and sister. A shoe-
maker, named Simon, and his wife, were the instructors to whom it •
deemed right to consign him, for the purpose of giving him a suits-cnlotte
education. Simon and his wife were shut up in the Temple, and, becoming
prisoners with the unfortunate child-, were directed to bring him up in :
ownoway.* Their food was better than that of the princesses, and they
shared the table of the municipal commissioners who were on duty. Simon
was permitted to go down, accompanied by two commissioners, to the court
of the Temple, for the purpose of giving him a little exercise.
Hebert conceived the infamous idea of wringing from this boy revelation-;
to criminate his unhappy mother. Whether this wretch imputed to the child
false revelations, or abused his tender age and his condition to extort from
him what admissions soever he pleased, he obtained a revolting deposition;
and, as the youth of the prince did not admit of his being brought before the
tribunal, Hebert appeared and detailed the infamous particulars which he had
himself either dictated or invented.
It was on the 14th of October that Marie Antoinette appeared before her
judges. Dragged before the sano-uiiiary tribunal by inexorable revolutionary
vengeance, she appeared there without any chance of acquittal, for it
not to obtain her acquittal that the Jacobins had brought her before it. It
was necessary, however, to make some charges. Fouquier therefore col-
lected the rumours current among the populace ever since the arrival of the
princess in France, and, in the act of accusation, he charged her with having
plundered the exchequer, first for her pleasures, and afterwards in ord<
transmit money to her brother the emperor. He insisted on the scenes of
the 5th and 6th of October, and on the dinners of the life-guards, alleging
that she had at that period framed a plot, which obliged the people to <ro to
Versailles to frustrate it. He afterwards accused her of having governed her
husband, interfered in the choice of ministers, conducted the intrigues with
the deputies gained bv the court, prepared the journey to Varennes, provoked
the war. and transmitted to the enemy's generals all our plans of campaign.
He further accused her of having prepared a new conspiracy on the 10th of
* '• Simon, who was intrusted with the bringing up of the dauphin, had had the cruelly to
leave the poor child absolutely alone. Unexampled barbarity, to leave an unhappy and sickly
infant eight years old, in a great room, locked and bolted in, with no other resource than a
broken bell whirl) he never rang, so greatly did he dread the people whom its sound would
have brought to him ! He preferred wanting everything to the sight of his persecutors. His
bed had not been touched for six months, and he had not strength to make it himself; it was
alive with bug*, and vermin still more disgusting. His linen and his person were covered
with them. For more than a y< ar he had had no change of shirt or stockings; every kind
of filth was allowed to nccuinulatc in his room. His window was never o|>ened, and the
infectious smell of this horrid apartment was so dreadful that no one could bear it. He |
his days wholly without occupation. They did not even allow him light in the evening.
This situation affected, his mind as well as his body ; and he fell into a frightful atrophy."—
Duchess d' Angoulcme. E. m
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 347
August, of having on that day caused the people to be fired upon, of having
induced her husband to defend himself by taxing him with cowardice: lasdy,
of having never ceased to plot and correspond with foreigners since her cap-
tivity in the Temple, and of having there treated her young son as king.
We lure observe how, on the terrible day of long deferred vengeance, when
subjects at length break forth and strike such of their princes as have not
deserved the blow, everything is distorted and converted into crime. We
see how the profusion and fondness for pleasure, so natural to a young
princess, how her attachment to her native country, her influence over her
husband, her regrets, always more indiscreet irr a woman than in a man,
nay, even her bolder courage, appeared to their inflamed or malignant
imaginations.
It was necessary to produce witnesses. Lecointre, deputy of Versailles,
who had seen what had passed on the 5th and Gth of October, Hebert, who
had frequently visited the Temple, various clerks in the ministerial office*,
and several domestic servants of the old court, were summoned. Admiral
d'Estaing, formerly commandant of the guard of Versailles; Manuel, the
ex-proeureur of the commune; Latour-du-Pin, minister at war in 1789; the
dole Bailly, who, it was said, had been, with Lafayette, an accomplice
in the journey to Varennes ; lastly, Valaze, one of the Girondins destined to
the scaffold : were taken from their prisons and compelled to give evidence.
No precise fact was elicited. Some had seen the Queen in high spirits
when the life-guards testified their attachment; others had seen her vexed
and dejected while being conducted to Paris, or brought back from Varennes ;
these had been present at splendid festivities which must have cost enormous
sums; those had heard it said in the ministerial offices that the Queen was
adverse to the sanction of the decrees. An ancient waiting-woman of the
Queen had heard the Duke de Coigny say, in 1788, that the emperor had
already received two hundred millions from France to make war upon the
Turks.
The cynical Hebert, being brought before the unfortunate Queen, dared at
length to prefer the charges wrung from the young prince. He said that
Charles Capet had given Simon an account of the journey to Varennes and
mentioned Lafayette and Bailly as having co-operated in it. He then added
that this boy was addicted to odious and very premature vices for his age;
that he had been surprised by Simon, who, on questioning him, learned that
he derived from his mother the vices in which he indulged. Hebert said
that it was no doubt the intention of Marie Antoinette, by weakening thus
early the physical constitution of her son, to secure to herself the means of
ruling him, in case he should ever ascend the throne.
The rumours which had been whispered for twenty years by a malicious
court, had given the people a most unfavourable opinion of the morals of the
That audience, however, though wholly Jacobin, was disgusted at
the accusations of Hebert.* He nevertheless persisted in supporting them.
The unhappy mother made no reply. Urged anew to explain herself, she
said with extraordinary emotion, " I thought that human nature would excuse
me from answering such an imputation, but I appeal from it to the hi
mother here present." This noble and simple reply affected all who
m there be a mora infernal invention than that made against the Queen !>y Hebert —
namely, that she had had an improper intimacy with her own son ' He made uee of this
sublime idea of which he boasted, in order to prejudice the women against the Queen, and
to prevent her execution from exciting pity. It had, however, no other effect than that of
disgusting all parties." — Prudk<)/n>ue. E.
348 HISTORY OF THE
heard it. In the depositions of the witnesses, however, all was not so bitter
for Marie Antoinette. The brave d'Estaing, whose enemy she had been,
would not say anything to inculpate her, and spoke only of the con:
which she had shown on the 5th and 6th of October, and of the noble reso-
lution which she had expressed, to die beside her husband rather than fly.
Manuel, in spite of his enmity to the court during the time of the Legislative
Assembly, declared that he could not say anything against the accused.
When the venerable Bailly was brought forward, who formerly had so often
predicted to the court the calamities which its imprudence must produce, he
appeared painfully affected; and when he was asked if he knew the wife of
Capet, "Yes," said he, bowing respectfully, "I have known Madame."
He declared that he knew nothing, and maintained that the declarations ex-
torted from the young prince relative to the journey to Varennes were l
In recompense for his deposition, he was assailed with outrageous reproaches,
from which he might judge what fate would soon be awarded to himself.
In the whole of the evidence there appeared but two serio
by Latour-du-Pin and Valaze, who deposed to them because they could not
help it. Latour-du-Pin declared that Marie Antoinette had applied to him
for an accurate statement of the armies while he was minister at war.
laze, always cold, but respectful towards misfortune, would not say any-
thing to criminate the accused ; yet he could not help declaring that, as a
member of the commission of twenty-four, being charged with his colleag
to examine the papers found at the house of Septeuil, treasurer of the civil
list, he had seen bonds for various sums signed Antoinette, which was i
natural ; but he added that he had also seen a letter in which the minister
requested the King to transmit to the Queen the copy of the plan of cam-
paign which he had in his hands. The most unfavourable construction
immediately put upon these two facts, the application for a statement of the
armies, and the communication of the plan of campaign ; and it was con-
cluded that they could not be wanted for any other purpose than to be I
to the enemy ; for it was not supposed that a young princess should turn
her attention merely for her own satisfaction, to matters of administration
and military plans. After these depositions, several others were received
respecting the expenses of the court, the influence of the Queen in public
affairs, the scene of the 10th of August, and what had passed in the Temple ;
and the most vague rumours, and most trivial circumstances, were eagerly
caught as proofs.
Marie Antoinette frequently repeated with presence of mind and fir
that there was no precise fact against her;* that, besides, though the wife
of Louis XVI., she was not answerable for any of the acts of his reign.
Fouquier, nevertheless, declared her to be sufficiently convicted : Chaveau-
Lagarde made unavailing efforts to defend her; and the unfortunate Q'.
was condemned to suffer the same fate of her husband.
Conveyed bade to the Conciergerie, she there passed in tolerable com-
posure the night preceding her execution, and, on the morning of the follow-
ing day, the 16th of October.t she was conducted, amidst a gr irse
• " At first the Queen consulting only her own sense of dignity had resolved, on her
trial, to make no other reply to the qiio-tion of her judges than, 'Assassinate me, as you have
already assassinated niv hushand !' Afterwards, hoHSfSI, At determined to follow the ex-
ample of the King, exert herself in her deface, and leave her judges without any excuse or
pretext for putting her to death." — XVehcrs Mrmoirs of Marie Antoinette.
f " At four o'clock in the morning of the day of her execution, the Queen wrote a letter
to the Princess Elizabeth. ' To you, my sister,' said she, ' I address myself for the last time.
«s
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 34!)
of the populace, to the fatal spot, where, ten months hefore, Louis XVI. had
perished. She listened with calmness to the exhortations of the ecclesiastic
who accompanied her, and cast an indifferent look at the people who had so
often applauded her beauty and her grace, and who now as warmly ap-
plauded her execution. On reaching the foot of the scaffold, she perceived
the Tuileries, and appeared to be moved : but she hastened to ascend the
fatal ladder, and gave herself up with courage to the executioner.* The in-
famous wretch exhibited her head to the people, as he was accustomed to
do when he had sacrificed an illustrious victim.
The Jacobins were overjoyed. " Let these tidings be carried to Austria,"
said they ; " the Romans sold the ground occupied by Annibal ; we strike
off the heads that are dearest to the sovereigns who have invaded our terri-
tory."
But this was only the commencement of vengeance. Immediately after
the trial of Marie Antoinette, the tribunal was to proceed to that of the Gi-
rondins confined in the Conciergerie.
Before the revolt of the South, nothing could be laid to their charge but
opinions. It was said, to be sure, that they were accomplices of Dumouriez,
of La Vendee, of Orleans ; but this connexion, which it was easy to impute
in the tribune, it was impossible to prove, even before the revolutionary tri-
bunal. On the contrary, ever since the day that they raised the standard of
civil war, and when positive facts could be adduced against them, it was
easv to condemn them. The imprisoned deputies, it is true, were not those
who had excited the insurrection of Calvados and of the South, but they
were members of the same party, supporters of the same cause. People
were thoroughly convinced that they had corresponded with one another, and
though the letters which had been intercepted did not sufficiently prove in-
trigues, they proved enough for a tribunal instituted for the purpose of con-
tenting itself with probability. All the moderation of the Girondins was,
therefore, transformed into a vast conspiracy, of which civil war had been
the upshot. Their tardiness in the time of the Legislative Assembly to rise
against the throne, their opposition to the project of the 10th of August,
their struggle with the commune from the 10th of August to the 20th of
September, their energetic protestations against the massacres, their pity for
Louis XVI., their resistance to the inquisitorial system which disgusted the
generals, their opposition to the extraordinary tribunal, to the maximum, to
the forced loan ; in short, to all the revolutionary measures ; lastly, their
efforts to create a repressive authority by instituting die commission of
twelve, their despair after their defeat in Paris — a despair which caused
I have been condemned, not to an ignominious death — it is so only to the guilty — but to rejoin
your brother. I weep only for my children ; I hope that one day, when they have regained
their rank, they may be reunited to you, and feel the blessing of your tender care. May my
son never forget the last words of his father, which I now repeat from myself — Never attempt
to revenge our death. I die true to the Catholic religion. Deprived of all spiritual consola-
tion, I can only seek for pardon from Heaven. I ask forgiveness of all who know me. I
pray for forgiveness to all my enemies.'" — Alison. E.
• " Sorrow had blanched the Queen's once beautiful hair ; but her features and air still
commanded the admiration of all who beheld her. Her cheeks, pale and emaciated, were
occasionally tinged with a vivid colour at the mention of those she had lost. When led out
to execution, she was dressed in white ; she had cut off her hair with her own hands.
Placed in a tumbrel, with her arms tied behind her, she was taken by a circuitous routo
to the Place de la Revolution ; and she ascended the scaffold with a firm and dignified step,
as if she had been about to take her place on a throne by the side of her husband." — Lacra-
telle. E.
2G
350 HISTORY OF THE
them to have recourse to the provinces — all this was constructed in z. eon
spiracy in which every fact was inseparable. The opinions which had hen
uttered in the tribune were merely the symptoms, the preparations for the
civil war which had ensued ; and whoever had expresed, in the Legislative
and the Convention, the same sentiments as the deputies who had assembled
at Caen, Bordeaux, Lyons, and Marseilles, was as guilty as they. Though
there was no proof of concert, yet it was found in their community of opi-
nion, in the friendship which had united most of them together, and in their
habitual meetings at Roland's and at Valaz^'s.
The Girondins, on the contrary, conceived that, if people would but dis-
cuss the point with them, it would be impossible to condemn them. Their
opinions, they said, had been free. They might have differed from the
Mountaineers respecting the choice of revolutionary means, without being
culpable. Their opinions proved neither personal ambition, nor premedi-
tated plot. They attested, on the contrary, that on a great number of points
they had differed from one another. Lastly, their connexion with the
volted deputies was but supposed ; and their letters, their friendship, their
habit of sitting on the same benches, were by no means sufficient to demon-
strate that. " If we are only suffered to speak," said the Girondins, K we
shall be saved." Fatal idea, which, without insuring their salvation, caused
them to lose a portion of that dignity which is the only compensation for an
unjust death !
If parties had more frankness, they would at least be much more noble.
The victorious party might have said to the vanquished party. " You have
carried attachment to your system of moderate means so far M to make war
upon us, as to bring the republic to the brink of destruction by a disastrous
diversion; you are conquered — you must die." The Girondins, on their
part, would have had a fine speech to make to their conquerors. They
might have said to them, "We look upon you as villains who convulse the
republic, who dishonour while pretending to defend it, and we were deter-
mined to fight and to destroy you. Yes, we are all equally guilty. We
are all accomplices of Buzot, Barbaroux, Petion, and Guadet. They are
great and virtuous citizens, whose virtues we proclaim to your face. While
they went to avenge the republic, we have remained here to proclaim it in
presence of the executioners. You are conquerors — put us to death."
But the mind of man is not so constituted as to seek to simplify every*
thing by frankness. The conquering party wishes to convince, and it uses
deception. A shadow of hope induces the vanquished party to defend itself,
and by the same means ; and in civil dissensions we set- those shameful
trials, at which the 'Stronger party listens predetermined not to believe, at
which the weaker speaks without the chance of persuading. It is not till
sentence is pronounced, not tiTl all hope is lost, that human dignity recovers
itself, and it is at the sight of the fatal axe that we see it burst forth again in
all its force.
The Girondins were resolved therefore to defend themselves, and they were
then obliged to have recourse to concessions, to concealments. Their adver-
saries determined to prove their crimes, and, in order to convict them, sent
to the revolutionary tribunal all their enemies — Pache, Hebert, Chaumette,
Chabot, and many others, either equally false or equally base. The con-
course was considerable, for it was still a new sight to see so many repub-
licans condemned on account of the republic. The accused were twer.ly-one,
in the flower of their age, in the prime of their talents, some in all the bril-
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
lianev of youth and manly beauty. The mere recapitulation of their names
ami ages had Bomn thing touching.
Hrissot, Gardieu, and Lasoun-e were thirty-nine; Vergniaud, Gensonne,
and Lehardy, thirty-five; Mainvielle and Ducos, twenty -eight; Boyer-Fon-
frede and Duchastel, twenty-seven ; Dupcrret, forty««ix ; Cam, fifty ; Valaze
and Lacaae, forty -two; l)u prat, thirty-three; Sillery, fifty-seven] I'auchet,
forty-nine; Lesterpt-Beauvais, forly-three ; Boileau, forty-one; Attiboul,
forty; Vigee, thirty-six. Gensonne was calm and cold; Valaze, indignant
and contemptuous; Vergniaud more agitated than usual. Young Ducos was
merry, and Fonfrede, who had been spared on the 2d of June, because he had
not voted for the arrests ordered by the committee of twelve, but who, by his
reiterated remonstrances in favour of his friends, had since deserved to share
their fate — Fonfrede seemed, for so noble a cause, to relinquish cheerfully
both his young wife, his large fortune, and his life.
Amar* had drawn up the act of accusation in the name of the committee
of general safety. Pache was the first witness heard in support of it. Cau-
tious and prudent as he always was, he said that he had long perceived a
faction adverse to the revolution, but he adduced no fact proving a premedi-
tated plot. He merely said that, when the Convention was threatened by
Dumouriez, he went to the committee of finance to obtain funds and to pro-
vision Paris, and that the committee refused them. He added that he had
been maltreated in the committee of general safety, and that Gaudet had
threatened him to demand the arrest of the municipal authorities. Chau-
mette recounted all the struggles of the commune with the right side, just
as they had been related in the newspapers. He added only one parti-
cular fact, namely, that Brissot had obtained the appointment of Santonax
as commissioner of the colonies, and that Brissot was consequently the
author of all the calamities of the New World. The wretch, Hebert, de-
tailed the circumstances of his apprehension by the commission of twelve,
and said that Roland bribed all the public writers, for Madame Roland had
wished to buy his paper of Pere Duchesne. Destournelles, minister of
justice, and formerly clerk to the commune, gave his deposition in an ex-
tremely vague manner, and repeated what everybody knew, namely, that
the accused had opposed the commune, inveighed against the massacres,
proposed the institution of a departmental guard, &c. The witness whose
deposition was the longest, as well as the most hostile, for it lasted several
hours, was Chabot, the ex-Capuchin, a hot-headed, weak, and base-minded
man. Chabot had always been treated by the Girondins as an extravagant
person, and he never forgave their disdain. He was proud of having con-
tributed to the 10th of August, contrary to their advice; he declared that, if
they bad consented to send him to the prisons, he would have saved the
prisoners, as he had saved the Swiss: he was desirous therefore of revenging
himself on the Girondins, and above all to recover, by calumniating them,
his popularity which was on the wane at the Jacobins, because he was ac-
cused of having a hand in stockjobbing transactions. He invented a long
and malicious accusation in which he represented the Girondins seeking first
to make a tool of Narbonne, the minister, then, after ejecting Narbonne, occu-
• " Amar was a barrister in the court of Grenoble. In 1792 he was appointed deputy to
the Convention, where he voted for the King's death. He was connected with the most
violent chiefs nf the Mountain, and in 1793, drew up the act of accusation against the Giron-
dins. In 1795 he was appointed president of the Convention, and ;.oon afterwards retired
into obscurity. Amar was a man of a gloomy and melancholy temperament." — Biographie
Moderne. E.
352 HISTORY OF THE
pying three ministerial departments at once, bringing about the 20th of June
to encourage their creatures, opposing the 10th of August, because they were
hostile to the republic ; lastly, pursuing invariably a preconcerted plan of
ambition, and, what was more atrocious than all the rest, suffering the mas-
sacres of September, and the robbery of the Garde Meuble, for the purpose
of ruining the reputation of the patriots. ."If they had consented," said
Chabot, "I would have saved the prisoners. Petion gave the murderers
money for drink, and Brissot would not suffer them to be stopped, because
in one of the prisons there was an enemy of his, Morande."
Such are the vile wretches who calumniate good men, as soon as power
has given them the signal to do so. The moment the leaders have cast the
first stone, all the reptiles that crawl in the mud, rise and overwhelm the
victim. Fabre d'Eglantine, who, like Chabot, had become suspected of
stockjobbing,* and was anxious to regain his popularity, made a more cau-
tious but likewise a more perfidious deposition, in which he insinuated that
the intention of suffering the massacres and the robbery of the Garde Meuble
to be perpetrated had most probably entered into the policy of the Girondins.
Vergniaud, ceasing to defend himself, exclaimed with indignation, "I am not
bound to justify myself against the charge of being the accomplice of rob-
bers and murderers."
No precise fact, however, was alleged against the accused. They were
charged with nothing but opinions publicly maintained, and they replied that
these opinions might have been erroneous, but that they had a right to think
as they pleased. It was objected to them that their doctrines were not the
result of an involuntary, and therefore an excusable, error, but of a plot
hatched at Roland's and at Valaze's. Again they replied, that, so far were
these doctrines from being the effect of any concert among, that they were
not even agreed upon every point. One said, I did not vote for the appeal
to the people ; another, I did not vote for the departmental guard ; a third, I
was against the course pursued by the commission of twelve ; I disapproved
the arrest of Hebert and Chaumette. All this was true enough; but then the
defence was no longer common. The accused seemed almost to abandon
one another, and to condemn those measures in which they had taken no
part. Boileau carried his anxiety to clear himself to extreme weakness.
He even covered himself with disgrace. He admitted that there had existed
a conspiracy against the unity and the indivisibility of the republic ; that he
was now convinced of this, and declared it to justice; that he could not point
out the guilty persons, but that he wished for their punishment; and he pro-
claimed himself a stanch Mountaineer. Gardien had also the weakness to
disavow completely the commission of twelve. However, Gensonne\ Bris-
sot, Vergniaud, and more especially Valaze, corrected the bad effect of the
conduct of their two colleagues. They admitted indeed that they had not
always thought alike, and that consequently their opinions were not pre-
concerted; but they disavowed neither their friendship nor their doctn:
Valaze frankly confessed that meetings had been held at his house; and
maintained that they had a right to meet and to enlighten each other with
their ideas, like any other citizens. When, lasdy, their connivance with
* " Fabre d'Eglantine was an ardent promoter and panegyrist of the revolutionary system,
and the friend, the companion, the adviser of the proconsuls, who carried throughout Franca,
fire and sword, devastation and death. I do not know whether his hands were stained by the
lavishing of money not his own, but I know that he waa a promoter of assassinations. Poor
before the 2d of September, 1792, he had afterwards an hotel and carriages and servants and
women ; his friend Lacroix assisted htm to procure this retinue." — Merrier. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 353
the fugitives was objected to them, they denied it. "What!" exclaimed
Hebert; "the accused deny the conspiracy ! When the senate of Rome
had to pronounce upon the conspiracy of Catiline, if it had questioned each
conspirator and been content with a denial, they would all have escaped the
punishment which awaited them; but the meetings at Catiline's, the night
of the latter, and the arms found at Lecca's, were material proofs, and they
were sutheient to determine the judgment of the senate." — "Very well,"
replied Brissot, " I accept the comparison made between us and Catiline.
Cicero said to him, 'Arms have been found at thy house; the ambassadors
of the Allobroges accuse thee ; the signatures of Lentulus, of Cathegus, and
of Statilius, thy accomplices, prove thy infamous projects.' Here the senate
accuses us, it is true, but have arms been found upon us ? Are there signa-
tures to produce against us?"
Unfortunately there had been discovered letters sent to Bordeaux by Verg-
niaud, which expressed the strongest indignation. A letter from a cousin
of Lacase had also been found, in which the preparations for the insurrection
were mentioned ; and, lastly, a letter from Duperret to Madame Roland had
been intercepted, in which he stated that he had heard from Buzot and
Barbaroux, and that they were preparing to punish the outrages committed
in Paris. Vergniaud, on being questioned, replied, " Were I to acquaint
you with the motives which induced me to write, perhaps I should appear
to you more to be pitied than censured. Judging from the plots of the 10th
of March, I could not help thinking that a design to murder us was connected
with the plan for dissolving the national representation. Marat wrote to
this effect on the 11th of March. The petitions since drawn up against us
with such acrimony have confirmed me in this opinion. It was under these
circumstances that my soul was wrung with anguish, and that I wrote to my
fellow-citizens that I was under the knife. I exclaimed against the tyranny
of Marat. He was the only person whom I mentioned. I respect the opi-
nion of the people concerning Marat, but to me Marat was a tyrant." At
these words one of the jury rose and said, "Vergniaud complains of having
been persecuted by Marat. I shall observe that Marat has been assassinated,
and that Vergniaud is still here." This silly observation was applauded by
part of the auditory, and all the frankness, all the sound reasoning of Verg-
niaud were thrown away upon the blind multitude.
Vergniaud, however, had succeeded in gaining attention, and recovered all
his eloquence in expatiating on the conduct of his friends, on their devoted-
ness, and on their sacrifices to the republic. The whole audience had been
moved ; and this condemnation, though commanded, no longer seemed to be
irrevocable. The trial had lasted several days. The Jacobins, enraged at
the tardiness of the tribunal, addressed to the Convention a fresh petition,
praying it to accelerate the proceedings. Robespierre caused a decree to be
passed, authorizing the jury, after three days' discussion, to declare them-
selves sufficiently enlightened, and to proceed to judgment without hearing
anything further. And to render the title more conformable with the thing,
it was moreover decided on his motion, that the name of extraordinary tri-
bunal should be changed to that of Revolutionary Tribunal.
Though this decree was passed, the jury durst not avail themselves of it
immediately, and declared that they were not satisfied. But on the follow-
ing day they made use of their new power to cut short the discussions, and
insisted that they should be closed. The accused had already lost all hope,
and were resolved to die nobly. They repaired with serene aspect to the
last sitting of the tribunal. While they were being searched at the door of
vol. H — 45 2 o 2
354 HISTORY OF THE
the Conciergerie, to ascertain that they had about them no implements of
destruction with which they might put an end to their lives, Valaze, giving
a pair of scissors to Riouffe, in the presence of the gendarmes, said, •« Here,
my friend, is a prohibited weapon. We must not make any attempts on our
lives."
On the 30th of October, at midnight, the jury entered to pronounce their
verdict. The countenance of Antonelle, their foreman, bespoke the violence
of his feelings. Camille-Desmoulins, on hearing the verdict pronounced,
cried out, "Ah! 'tis I who am the death of them; 'tis my Brissot dtvoiUl*
Let me be gone!" he added, and rushed out in despair. The accused were
brought in. On hearing the fatal word pronounced, Brissot dropped his arms,
and his head suddenly drooped upon his breast. Gensonnc would have said
a few words on the application of the law, but could not obtain a hearing.
Sillery, letting fall his crutches, exclaimed, "This is the most glorious day
of my life !" Some hopes had been conceived for the two young brothers,
Ducos and Fonfrede, who had appeared to be less compromised, and who
had attached themselves to the Girondins, not so much from conformity of
opinion, as from admiration of their character and their talents. They were
nevertheless condemned like the others. Fonfrede embraced Ducos, saying,
"Brother, it is I who am the cause of your death."— " Be of good cheer,"
replied Ducos, " we shall die together." The Abbe* Fauchet, with downcast
look, seemed to pray; Carra retained his unfeeling air; Vergniaud's whole
figure wore an expression of pride and disdain ; Lasource repeated the saying
of one of the ancients : " I die on the day when the people have lost their
reason. You will die on that when they shall have recovered it." The
weak Boileau and the weak Gardien were not spared. The former, throw-
ing his hat into the air, exclaimed, "I am innocent." — "We are innocent,"
repeated all the accused; " people, they are deceiving you !" Some of them
had the imprudence to throw some assignats about, as if to induce the multi-
tude to take their part, but it remained unmoved. The gendarmes then
surrounded them for the purpose of conducting them back to their prison.
One of the condemned suddenly fell at their feet They lifted him up
streaming with blood. It was Valaze, who, when giving his scissors to
Riouffe, had kept a dagger, with which he had stabbed himself. The tribu-
nal immediately decided that his body should be carried in a cart after the
condemned.t As they left the court, they struck up all together, by a spon-
taneous movement, the hymn of the Marseillais,
Contre nous tie la tyrannic
Le couteau sanglant est leve.
Their last night was sublime. Vergniaud was provided with poison. He
threw it away, that he might die with his friends. They took a last meal
together, at which they were by turns merry, serious, and eloquent. Bris-
sot and Gensonne' were grave and pensive; Vergniaud spoke of expiring
liberty in the noblest terms of regret, and of the destination of man with
persuasive eloquence. Ducos repeated verses which he had composed in
prison, and they all joined in singing hymns to France and liberty.
Next day, the 31st of October, an immense crowd collected to see them
pass. On their way to the scaffold, they repeated that hymn of the Mar-
* The title of a pamphlet which he wrote against the Girondins.
j- " The court ordered that the bloody corpse of the suicide Valaio should be borne on a
tumbrel to the place of execution, and beheaded with the other prisoners." — Lacretclle. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 355
seillais which our soldiers sung when marching against the enemy. On
reaching the Place de la Revolution, having alighted from their carta, they
embraced one another, shouting Vive fa Republique! Sillery first mounted
the scaffold, and, after gravely bowing to the people, in whom he still
respected frail and misguided humanity, he received the fatal stroke. All
of them followed Sillery's example, and died with the same dignity. In
thirty-one minutes the executioner had despatched these illustrious victims,
and tlnis destroyed in a few moments youth, beauty, virtue, talents!
Such was die end of those noble and courageous citizens, who fell a sacri-
fice to their generous Utopia. Comprehending neither human nature, nor
its vices, nor the means of guiding it in a revolution, they were indignant
because it would not be better, and, in persisting to thwart it, they caused it
to devour themselves. Respect to their memory! Never were such virtues,
such talents displayed in the civil wars ; and, to their glory be it said, if they
did not comprehend the necessity of violent means for saving the cause of
France, most of their adversaries who preferred those means, decided from
passion rather than from genius. Above them could be placed only such
of the Mountaineers as had decided in favour of revolutionary means out of
policy alone, and not from the impulse of hatred.
No sooner had the Girondins expired, than fresh victims were sacrificed.
The sword rested not for a moment. On the 2d of November the unfortu-
nate Olympe de Gouges was executed for writings called counter-revolution-
ary, and Adam Luxe, deputy of Mayence, accused of the same crime. On
the 6th, the hapless Duke of Orleans, transferred from Marseilles to Paris, was
brought before the revolutionary tribunal, and condemned on account of the
suspicions which he had excited in all the parties. Odious to the emigrants,
suspected by the Girondins and the Jacobins, he inspired none of those re-
grets which afford some consolation for an unjust death. More hostile to
the court than enthusiastic in favour of the republic, he felt not that convic-
tion which gives support at the critical moment; and of all the victims he
was the one least compensated and most to be pitied. A universal disgust,
an absolute scepticism, were his last sentiments, and he went to the scaffold
with extraordinary composure and indifference. As he was drawn along
the Rue St. Honore, he beheld his palace with a dry eye, and never belied
for a moment his disgust of men and of life.* Coustard, his aide-de-camp,
a deputy like himself, shared his fate.
Two days afterwards, Roland's interesting and courageous wife followed
them to the scaffold. Combining the heroism of a Roman matron with the
graces of a Frenchwoman, this female had to endure all sorts of afflictions.
She loved and reverenced her husband as a father. She felt for one of the
proscribed Girondins a vehement passion, which she had always repressed.
She left a young and orphan daughter to the care of friends. Trembling for
• "The Duke of Orleans demanded only one favour, which was granted; namely, that
his execution should be postponed for twenty-four hours. In the interval he had a repast
prepared with care, on which he feasted with more than usual avidity. When led out to
execution, he gazed for a time, with a smile on his countenance, on the Palais Royal, the
scene of his former orgies; he was detained above a quarter of an hour in front of that
palace, by order of Robespierre, who had in vain asked his daughter's hand in marriage :
and had promised, if he would relent in that extremity, to excite a tumult which should
save his life. Depraved as he was, he had too much honourable feeling: left to consent to
such a sacrifice ; and remained in expectation of death, without giving the expected signal
of acquiescence, for twenty minutes, when he was permitted to continue his journey to the
scaffold. He met his death with stoical fortitude. The multitude applauded his execution."
— Alison. E.
356 HISTORY OF THE
so many and such dear objects, she considered the cause of liberty to which
she was enthusiastically attached, and for which she had made such ' great
sacrifices, as for ever ruined. Thus she suffered in all her affections at once.
Condemned as an accomplice of the Girondins, she heard her sentence with
a sort of enthusiasm, seemed to be inspired from the moment of her condem-
nation to that of her execution, and excited a kind of religious admiration in
all who saw her.* She went to the scaffold dressed in white. She exerted
herself the whole way to cheer the spirits of a companion in misfortune who
was to perish with her, and who had not the same courage ; and she even
succeeded so far as twice to draw from him a smile. On reaching the place
of execution, she bowed to the statue of liberty, exclaiming, " O Liberty,
what crimes are they committing in thy name !" She then underwent her
fate with indomitable courage.t Thus perished that charming and spirited
woman, who deserved to share the destiny of her friends, but who, more
modest and more resigned to the passive part allotted to her sex, wished not
to avoid the death due to her talents and her virtues, but to spare her hus-
band and herself ridicule and calumnies.
Her husband had fled towards Rouen. On receiving intelligence of her
tragic end, he resolved not to survive her. He quitted the hospitable house
which had afforded him an asylum, and, to avoid compromising any friend,
put an end to his life on the high road. He was found pierced to the heart
by a sword, and lying against the foot of the tree against which he had placed
the hilt of the destructive weapon. In his pocket was a paper relative to his
life and to his conduct as a minister.
Thus, in that frightful delirium which had rendered genius, and virtue,
and courage suspected, all that was most noble and most generous in
* " When Madame Roland arrived at the Conciergerie, the blood of the twenty-two depu-
ties still flowed on the spot. Though she well knew the fate which awaited her, her firmness
did not forsake her. Although past the prime of life, she was a fine woman, tall, and of an
elegant form ; an expression infinitely superior to what is usually found in women was seen
in her large black eyes, at once forcible and mild. She frequently spoke from her window
to those without, with the magnanimity of a man of the first order of talent. Sometimes,
however, the susceptibility of her sex gained the ascendant, and it was seen that she had been
weeping, no doubt at the remembrance of her daughter and husband. As she passed to the
examination, we saw her with that firmness of deportment which usually marked her cha-
racter ; as she returned, her eyes were moistened with tears, but they were tears of indigna-
tion. She had been treated with the grossest rudeness, and questions had been put insulting
to her honour. The clay on which she was condemned, she had dressed herself in white, and
with peculiar care; her long black hair hung down loose to her waist. After her condemna-
tion, she returned to her prison with an alacrity which was little short of pleasure. By a
sign, that was not mistaken, she gave us all to understand she was to die." — Memoirs of a
Prisoner. E.
I " Madame Roland's defence, composed by herself the night before her trial, is one of the
most eloquent and touching monuments of the Revolution. Her answers to the interrogato-
ries of her judges, the dignity of her manner, and the beauty of her figure, melted even the
revolutionary audience. She was conveyed to the scaffold in the same car with a man whose
firmness was not equal to her own. While passing along the streets, her whole anxiety
appeared to be, to support his courage. She did this with so much simplicity and elYect, that
she frequently brought a smile on the lips that were about to perish. When they arrived at
the foot of the scaffold, she had the generosity to renounce, in favour of her companion: the
privilege of being first executed. ' Ascend first,' said she, ' let me at least spare you the pain
of seeing my blood flow.' Turning to the executioner, she asked if he would consent to
that arrangement. He replied that his orders were, that she should die the -first ' You
cannot,' said she with a smile, ' you cannot, I am sure, refuse a woman her last request.'
Undismayed by the spectacle which immediately ensued, she calmly bent her head under the
guillotine, and perished with the serenity she had evinced ever since her imprisonment"—
Alison.
IBAniilLT.
.u.i run OF r.uiis
■
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 357
France was perishing either by suicide or by the blade of the execu-
tioner.*
Among so many illustrious and courageous deaths, there was one still
more lamentable and more sublime than any of the others ; it was that of
Hnilly. From the manner in which he had been treated during the Queen's
trial, it might easily be inferred how he was likely to be received before the
revolutionary tribunal. The scene in the Champ de Mars, the proclamation
of martial law, and the fusillade which followed, were the events with which
the constituent party was most frequendy and most bitterly reproached.
Bailly, the friend of Lafayette, and the magistrate who had ordered the red
flag to be unfurled, was the victim selected to atone for all the alleged offences
of the Constituent Assembly. He was condemned, and was to be executed
in the Champ de Mars, the theatre of what was termed his crime. His exe-
cution took place on the 1 1 til of November. The weather was cold and
rainy. Conducted on foot, he manifested the utmost composure and serenity,
amidst the insults of a barbarous populace, which he had fed while he was
mayor. During the long walk from the Conciergerie to the Champ de Mars,
the red flag, which had been found at the mairie, enclosed in a mahogany
box, was shaken in his face. On reaching the foot of the scaffold, it might
be supposed that his sufferings were nearly over : but one of the wretches
who had persecuted him so assiduously, cried out that the field of the fede-
ration ought not to be polluted by his blood. The people instantly rushed
upon the guillotine, took it down, bore it off with the same enthusiasm as
they had formerly shown in labouring in that same field of the federation,
and erected it again upon a dunghill on the bank of the Seine, and opposite
to the quarter of Chaillot, where Bailly had passed his life, and composed
his works. This operation lasted some hours. Meanwhile he was obliged
to walk several times round the Champ de Mars. Bareheaded and with his
hands pinioned behind him, he could scarcely drag himself along. Some
pelted him with mud, others kicked and struck him with sticks. He fell
exhausted. They lifted him up again. Rain and cold had communicated
to his limbs an involuntary shivering. "Thou tremblest!" said a soldier to
him. " My friend," replied the old man, " it is cold." After he had been
thus tormented for several hours, the red flag was burned under his nose ;
at length he was delivered over to the executioner, and another illustrious
scholar, and one of the most virtuous men who ever honoured our country,
was then taken from it.t
• " The whole country seemed one vast conflagration of revolt and vengeance. The shrieks
of death were blended with the yell of the assassin, and the laughter of buffoons. Never were
the finest affections more warmly excited, or pierced with more cruel wounds. Whole fami-
lies were led to the scaffold for no other crime than their relationship; sisters for shedding
tears over the death of their brothers in the emigrant armies; wives for lamenting the fate of
their husbands; innocent peasant-girls for dancing with the Prussian soldiers; and a woman
giving suck, and whose milk spouted in the face of her executioner at the fatal stroke, for
merely saying, as a group were being conducted to slaughter, ' Here is much blood shed for
a trifling cause !' " — Huzlitt's Life of Napoleon. E.
j- " Among the virtuous members of the first Assembly, there was no one who stood higher
than liiiillv. As a scholar and a man of science, he had long been in the very first rank of
celebrity ; his private morals were not only irreproachable, but exemplary ; and his character
and disposition had always been remarkable for gentleness, moderation, and philanthropy.
His popularity was at one time equal to that of any of the idols of the day ; and if it was
gained by some degree of culpable indulgence and unjustifiable zeal, it was forfeited at least
by a resolute opposition to disorder, and a meritorious perseverance in the discharge of his
duty. There is not perhaps a name in the whole annals of the Revolution, with which th»
praise of unaffected philanthropy may be more safely associated." — Edinburgh Review. E.
358 HISTORY OF THE
Since the time that Tacitus saw the vile populace applaud the crimes of
emperors, it has not changed. Always sudden in its movements, at one time
it erects an altar to the country, at another scaffolds, and it exhibits a beauti-
ful and a noble spectacle only when, incorporated with the armies, it rushes
upon the hostile battalions. Let not despotism impute its crimes to liberty,
for under despotism it was always as guilty as under the republic ; but let us
continually invoke enlightenment and instruction* for those barbarians swarm-
ing in the lowest classes of society, and always ready to stain it with any
crime, to obey the call of any power, and to disgrace any cause.
On the 25th of November, the unfortunate Manuel was also put to death.
From being procureur of the commune, he had become deputy to the Con-
vention, and had resigned his seat at the time of the trial of Louis XVI., be-
cause he had been accused of having purloined the list of votes. He was
charged before the tribunal with having favoured the massacres of Septem-
ber, for the purpose of raising the departments against Paris. It was Fou-
quier-Tinville who was commissioned to devise these atrocious calumnies,
more atrocious even than the condemnation. On the same day was con-
demned the unfortunate General Brunet, because he had not sent off part of
his army from Nice to Toulon ; and, on the following day, the 26th, sen-
tence of death was pronounced upon the victorious Houchard, because he
had not understood the plan laid down for him, and had not moved rapidly
upon the causeway of Fumes so as to take the whole English army. His
was an egregious fault, but not deserving of death.
These executions began to spread general terror, and to render the supreme
authority formidable. Dismay pervaded not only the prisons, the hall of the
revolutionary tribunal, and the Place de la Revolution ; it prevailed every-
where, in the markets, in the shops, where the maximum and the laws
against forestalling had recently been enforced. We have already seen how
the discredit of the assignats and the increased price of commodities had led
to the decree of the maximum for the purpose of restoring the balance be-
tween merchandise and money. The first effects of thi3 maximum had
been most disastrous, and had occasioned the shutting up of a great number
of shops. By establishing a tariff for articles of primary necessity, the go-
vernment had reached only those goods which had been delivered to the
retail dealer, and were ready to pass from the hands of the latter into those
of the consumer. But the retailer, who had bought them of the wholesale
trader before the maximum, and at a higher price than that of the new tariff,
suffered enormous losses and complained bitterly. Even when lie had
bought after the maximum, the loss sustained by him was not the less. In fact,
in the tariff of commodities, called goods of primary necessity, they were not
specified till wrought and ready to be consumed, and it was not till they bad ar-
rived at this latter state that their price was fixed. But it was not said what price
they should bear in their raw form, what price should be paid to the work-
man who wrought them, to the carrier, or the navigator, who transported
them; consequendy. the retailer, who was obliged to sell to the consumer
according to the tariff, and who could not treat with the workman, the manu-
facturer, the wholesale dealer, according to that same tariff, could not possi-
bly continue so advantageous a trade. Most of the tradesmen shut up their
• " To inform a people of their rights, before instructing them and making them familiar
wrth their duties, loads naturally to the abuse of liberty and the usurpation of individuals.
It is like opening a passage for the torrent, before a channel has been prepared to receive, or
banks to direct it. — liuilly's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 359
shops or evaded the law by fraud. They sold only goods of the worst
quality at the maximum, and reserved the best for those who came secretly
to pay for them at their proper value.
The populace perceiving these frauds, and seeing a great number of shops
shut up, was seized with fury, and assailed the commune with complaints.
It insisted that all the dealers should be obliged to keep their shops open and
to continue their trade, whether they wished to do so or not. The butchers
and porkmen, who bought diseased animals, or such as had died accidentally,
were denounced, and so were those who, in order that the meat might weigh
heavier, did not bleed the carcasses sufficiently. The bakers, who reserved
the best flour for the rich, sold the worst to the poor, and did not bake their
bread enough that it might weigh the more ; the wine-merchants, who mixed
the most deleterious drugs with their wines; the dealers in salt, who, to in-
crease the weight of that commodity, deteriorated the quality ; the grocers,
and in short all the retail dealers who adulterated commodities in a thousand
ways were also unsparingly accused.
Of these abuses, some were perpetual, others peculiar to the actual crisis :
but when the impatience of wrong seizes the minds of the people, they com-
plain of everything, they endeavour to reform everything, to punish every-
thing.
On this subject Chaumette, the procureur-general, made a flaming speech
against the traders. " It will be recollected," said he, " that in '89 all these
men carried on a great trade, but with whom ? with foreigners. It is well
known that it was they who caused the fall of the assignats, and that it was
by jobbing in paper-money that they enriched themselves. What have they
done since they made their fortune ? They have retired from business ;
they have threatened the people with a dearth of commodities ; but if they
have gold and assignats, the republic has something still more valuable — it
has arms. Arms, not gold, are wanted to move our fabrics and manufactures.
If then these individuals relinquish fabrics and manufactures, the republic
will take them in hand, and put in requisition all the raw materials. Let
them remember that it depends on the republic to reduce, whenever it pleases,
to dust and ashes, the gold and the assignats which are in,their hands. That
giant, the people, must crush the mercantile speculators.
"We feel the hardships of the people, because we belong ourselves to the
people. The entire council is composed of sans-culottes. This is the le-
gislating people. It is of little consequence if our heads fall, provided pos-
terity takes the trouble to pick up our sculls. I shall quote, not the Gospel,
but Plato. • He who shall strike with the sword,' says that philosopher,
' shall perish by the sword ; he who shall destroy by poison, shall perish by
poison ; famine shall' put an end to him who would famish the people.' If
commodities and provisions run short, whom shall the people call to account
for it? The constituted authorities ? No. The Convention ? No. It will
call to account the merchants and the contractors. Rousseau, who was also
one of the people, said, When the people shall have nothing more to eat,
tluij >ri/l rut the rich."*
Forced means lead to forced means, as we have elsewhere observed. In
the first laws attention had been paid only to wrought goods. It was now
necessary to consider the subject of the raw material ; nay, the idea of seizing
the raw material and the workmen for the account of the government began
to float in some minds. It is a formidable obligation, that of doing violence
" Speech at the commune on the 14th of October.
360 HISTORY OF THE
to nature, and attempting to regulate all her movements. The commune and
the Convention were obliged to take new measures, each according to its
respective competence.
The commune of Paris obliged every dealer to declare the quantity of
goods in hand, the orders which he had given to procure more, and the ex-
pectations which he had of their arrival. Every shopkeeper who had been
in business for a year, and either relinquished it or suffered it to languish,
was declared suspected, and imprisoned as such. To prevent the confusion
and the accumulation arising from an anxiety to lay in a stock, the commune
also decided that the consumer should apply only to the retailer, and the
retailer only to the wholesale dealer : and it fixed the quantities which each
should be allowed to order. Thus the retail grocer could, not order more
than twenty-five pounds of sugar at a time of the wholesale dealer, and the
tavern-keeper not more than twelve. It was the revolutionary committees
that delivered the tickets for purchasing, and fixed the quantities.* The
commune did not confine itself to these regulations. As the throng about
the doors of the bakers still continued the same, as there was still the same
tumult there, and many people were waiting part of the night to be served,
it was decided, at the suggestion of Chaumette, that those who had come last
should be first served, but this regulation diminished neither the tumult nor
eagerness of the customers. As the people complained that the worst flour
was reserved for them, it was resolved that, in the city of Paris, there should
be made in future but one sort of bread, composed of three-fourths wheaten
flour and one-fourth rye. Lastly, a commission of inspection for provisions
was instituted, to ascertain the state of commodities, to take cognizance of
frauds, and to punish them. These measures, imitated by the other com-
munes, and frequently even converted into decrees, immediately became ge-
neral laws ; and thus, as we have already observed, the commune exercised
an immense influence in everything connected with the internal administra-
tion and the police.
• The Convention, urged to reform the law of the maximum, devised a
new one, which went back to the raw material. It required that a statement
should be made out of the cost price of goods in 1790, on the spot where they
were produced. To this price were to be added, in the first place, one-third
on account of circumstances ; secondly, a fixed sum for carriage from the
place of production to the place of consumption ; thirdly, and lastly, five
per cent, for the profit of the wholesale dealer, and ten for the retailer. Out
of all these elements was to be composed, for the future, the price of articles
of the first necessity. The local administrations were directed to take this
tax upon themselves, each directing that which was produced and consumed
within it. An indemnity was granted to every retail dealer, who possessing
a capital of less than ten thousand francs, could prove that he had lost that
capital by the maximum. The communes were to judge of the case by
actual inspection, a method always adopted in times of dictatorship. Thus
this law, without yet going back to the production, to the raw material, to
• " The state of France is perfectly simple. It consists of two classes — the oppressors and
the oppressed. The first have the whole nuthority of state in their hands, the direction of
trade, the revenues of the public, the confiscations of individuals and corporations. The
other description — the oppressed — are people of some property ; they are the small relics of
the persecuted landed interest; the burghers, the farmers, the small tradesmen. The revolu-
tionary committees exercise over these a most severe and scrutinizing inquisition. At Paris,
and in most other towns, the bread the people buy, is a daily dole, which they cannot
obtain without a daily ticket delivered to them by their masters." — Burke on the Policy of
the Allies. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 361
workmanship, fixed the price of merchandise on leaving the manufactory,
the price of carriage, and the profit of the wholesale and retail dealer, and by
absolute rules, made compensation for the fickleness of nature in at least half
of the social operations. But all this, we repeat, proceeded inevitably from
the first maximum, the first maximum from the assignats, and the assig-
nats from the imperative wants of the Revolution.
To superintend this system of government introduced into commerce, a
commission of provisions and articles of subsistence was appointed, whose
authority extended over the whole republic. This was composed of three
members appointed by the Convention, enjoying nearly the importance of
the ministers themselves, and having voices in the council. The commission
thus formed was charged to carry the tariffs into execution, to superintend
the conduct of the communes on this point, to cause the statement of the
articles of provision and subsistence throughout all France to be forthwith
completed, to order their transfer from one department to another, and to fix
the requisitions for the armies, agreeably to the celebrated decree which insti-
tuted the revolutionary government.
The financial situation of the country was not less extraordinary than all
the rest. The two loans, the one forced, the other voluntary, filled with
rapidity. People were particularly eager to contribute to the second, because
the advantages which it held out rendered it far preferable, and thus the
moment approached when one thousand millions of assignats would be with-
drawn from circulation. There were in the exchequer for current expenses
nearly four hundred millions remaining from the former creations, and
five hundred millions of royal assignats, called in by the decree which
divested them of the character of money, and converted into a like sum in
republican assignats. These made, therefore, a sum of about nine hundred
millions for the public service.
It will appear extraordinary that the assignat, which had fallen three-
fourths, and even four-fifths, had risen to a par with specie. In this rise
there was something real and something fictitious. The gradual suppres-
sion of a floating thousand millions, the success of the first levy, which had
produced six hundred thousand men in the space of a month, and the recent
victories of the republic, which almost insured its existence, had accelerated
the sale of the national possessions, and restored some confidence to the
assignats, but still not sufficient to place them on an equality with money.
The causes which put them apparently on a par with specie were the fol-
lowing. It will be recollected that a law forbade, under very heavy penal-
ties, the traffic in specie, that is, the exchange at a loss of the assignat against
money ; that another law decreed very severe penalties against those who,
in purchases, should bargain for different prices according as payment was
to be made in paper or in cash. In this manner specie could not maintain
its real value either against the assignat or against merchandise, and people
had no other resource but to hoard it. But, by a last law, it was enacted
that hidden gold, silver or jewels, should belong partly to the state, partly to
the informer. Thenceforth people could neither employ specie in trade nor
conceal it ; it became troublesome ; it exposed the holders to the risk of
being considered as suspected persons ; they began to be afraid of it, and to
find the assignat preferable for daily use. This it was that had re-established
the par, which had never really existed, for paper, even on the first day of
its creation. Many communes, adding their laws to those of the Convention,
had even prohibited the circulation of specie, and ordered that it should be
brought in chests to be exchanged for assignats. The Convention, it is
vol. ii. — 46 2 H
362 HISTORY OF THE
true, had abolished all these particular decisions of the communes ; but the
general laws which it had passed had nevertheless rendered specie useless
and dangerous. Many people paid it away in taxes, or to the loan, or to
foreigners, who carried on a great traffic in it, and came to the frontier-towns
to receive it in exchange for merchandise. The Italians and the Genoese,
in particular, who brought us great quantities of corn, frequented the south-
ern ports, and bought up gold and silver at low prices. Specie, had, there-
fore, made its appearance again, owing to the effect of these terrible laws ;
and the party of ardent revolutionists, fearing lest its appearance should
again prove prejudicial to the paper-money, were desirous that specie, which
hitherto had not been excluded from circulation, and had only been con-
demned to pass for the same as the assignat, should be absolutely prohibited ;
they proposed that its circulation should be forbidden, and that all who pos-
sessed it should be ordered to bring it to the public coffers to be exchanged
for assignats.
Terror had almost put a stop to stockjobbing. Speculations upon specie
had, as we have just seen, become impossible. Foreign paper, branded
with reprobation, no longer circulated as it did two months before : and the
bankers accused on all sides of being agents of the emigrants and addicting
themselves to stockjobbing, were in the utmost consternation. For a mo-
ment, seals had been put upon their effects ; but government had soon be-
come aware of the danger of interrupting banking operations and thus check-
ing the circulation of all capitals, and the seals were removed. The alarm
was nevertheless so great that nobody thought of engaging in any kind of
speculation.
The India Company was at length abolished. We have seen what an
intrigue had been formed by certain deputies to speculate in the shares of
that company. The Baron de Batz, in concert with Julien of Toulouse,
Delaunay of Angers, and Chabot, proposed by alarming motions to make
shares fall, then to buy them up, and afterwards by milder motions to pro-
duce a rise, when they would sell again, and thus make a profit by this
fraudulent fluctuation. The Abbe d'Espagnac, whom Julien favoured with
the committee of contracts, was to furnish the funds for these speculations.
These wretches actually succeeded in sinking the shares from four thousand
five hundred to six hundred and fifty livres, and made considerable profits.
The suppression of the company, however, could not be prevented. They
then began to treat with it for a mitigation of the decree of suppression.
Delaunay and Julien discussed the matter with the directors. •• If." said
they, " you will give us such a sum, we will move for such a decree ; if
not, we will bring forward such a one." It was agreed that they should
be paid the sum of five hundred thousand francs, for which they were, when
proposing the suppression of the company, which was inevitable, to cause
the business of its liquidation to be assigned to itself, which misrht prolong
its duration for a considerable time. This sum was tt> be divided among
Delaunay, Julien, Chabot, and Bazire, whom his friend Chabot had ac-
quainted with the intrigue, hut who refused to take any part in it.
Delaunay presented the "decree of suppression on the 17th of Vendeiniarie
He proposed to suppress the company, to oblige it to refund the sums which
it owed to the state, and, above all, to make it pay the duty on transfers,
which it had evaded by changing its shares into inscriptions in its books.
Finally, he proposed to leave the business of winding up its affairs to itself.
Fabre d'Eglantine, who was not yet in the secret, and who speculated. M it
appeared, in a contrary sense, immediately opposed this motion, saying that,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 363
to permit the company to wind up its affairs itself was perpetuating it, and
that upon this pretext it might continue to exist for an indefinite period. He
proposed, therefore, to transfer to the government the business of this liqui-
dation. Cambon moved, as a sub-amendment, that the state, in undertaking
the liquidation, should not be charged with the debts of the company if they
excee.led its assets. The decree and the two amendments were adopted,
and referred to the commission to be definitively drawn up. The members
in the plot immediately agreed that they ought to gain Fabre, in order to
obtain, in the drawing up, some modifications to the decree. Chabot was
despatched to Fabre with one hundred thousand francs, and secured his
assistance. They then proceeded in this manner. The decree was drawn
up as it had been adopted by the Convention, and submitted for signature to
Cambon and the members of the commission who were not accomplices in
the scheme. To this authentic copy were then added certain words, which
totally altered the sense. On the subject of the transfers which had evaded
the duty, but which were to pay it, were added these words, excepting those
fraudulently made, which tended to revive all the pretensions of the com-
pany in regard to the exemption from the duty. On the subject of the liqui-
dation these words were added: Agreeably to the statutes and regulations
of the company, which gave to the latter an intervention in the liquidation.
These interpolations materially changed the nature of the decree. Chabot,
Fabre, Delaunay, and Julien of Toulouse, afterwards signed it, and delivered
the falsified copy to the commission for the circulation of the laws, which
caused it to be printed and promulgated as an authentic decree. They hoped
that the members who had signed before these slight alterations were made
would either not recollect or not perceive them, and they divided among
themselves the sum of five hundred thousand francs. Bazire alone refused
his share, saying that he would have no hand in such disgraceful transactions.
Meanwhile Chabot, whose luxurious style of living began to be denounced,
was sorely afraid lest he should find himself compromised. He had expended
the hundred thousand francs, which he had received as his share, in private
expenses ; and as his accomplices saw that he was ready to betray them,
they threatened to be beforehand with him, and to denounce the whole affair
if he abandoned them. Such had been the issue of this scandalous intrigue
between the Baron de Batz and three or four deputies.* The general terror,
which threatened every life, however innocent, had seized them, and they
were apprehensive of being detected and punished. For the moment, there-
fore, all speculations were suspended, and nobody now thought of engaging
in stockjobbing.
It was precisely at this time, when the government was not afraid to do
violence to all received ideas, to all established customs, that the plan for in-
troducing a new system of weights and measures, and changing the calendar,
was carried into execution. A fondness for regularity, and a contempt for
obstacles, could scarcely fail to mark a revolution which was at once philoso-
phical and political. It had divided the country into eighty-three equal por-
tions; it had <riven uniformity to the civil, religious, and military administra-
tion; it had equalized all the parts of the public debt; it could not avoid
regulating weights and measures, and the division of time. It is true that
this fondness for uniformity, degenerating into a spirit of system, nay, even
* " 8mm writings found among Robespierre's papers after his death, fullj justify these
charges against Chabot and his colleagues, for which they were afterwards arrested and
brought to the scaffold." — Biographic Moderne. E.
364 HISTORY OF THE
into a mania, caused the necessary and attractive varieties of nature to be too
often forgotten; but it is only in paroxysms of this kind that the human mind
effects great and difficult regenerations. The new system of weights and
measures, one of the most admirable creations of the age, was the result of
this audacious spirit of innovation. The idea was conceived of taking for
the unit of weights, and for the unit of measures, natural and invariable
quantities in every country. Thus, distilled water was taken for the unit of
weight, and a part of the meridian for the unit of measure. These units,
multiplied or divided by ten, ad infinitum, formed that beautiful system,
known by the name of the decimal system.
The same regularity was to be applied to the division of time ; and the
difficulty of changing the habits of a people in those points where they are
most invincible was not capable of deterring men so determined as those
who then presided over the destinies of France. They had already changed
the Gregorian era into a republican era, and dated the latter from the first
year of liberty. They made the year and the new era begin with the 22d
of September, 1792, a day which, by a fortunate coincidence, was that of
the institution of the republic and of the autumnal equinox. The year would
have been divided into ten parts, conformably with the decimal system, but,
in taking for the division of the months the twelve revolutions of the moon
round the earth, it became absolutely necessary to admit twelve months.
Nature here commanded the infraction of the decimal system. The month
consisted of thirty days; it was divided into three portions of ten days each,
called decades, instead of the four weeks. The tenth day of each decade was
dedicated to rest, and superseded the former Sunday. Thus then was one day
of rest less in the month. The Catholic religion had multiplied holidays to
infinity. The Revolution, preaching up industry, deemed it right to reduce
them as much as possible. The months were named after the seasons to which
they belonged. As the year commenced with autumn, the first three belonged
to that season, and were called Vendemiaire, Brumaire, Frimaire ; the three
following were those of winter, and were called Nivose, Pluviose, Ventose;
the next three, answering to spring, were named Germinal, Floreal, Grairial ;
and the last three, comprising summer, were denominated Messidor, Ther-
midor, Fructidor. These twelve months, of thirty days each, formed a total
of only three hundred and sixty days. There remained five days for com-
pleting the year. These were called complementary days, and, by a happy
idea, they were to be set apart for national festivals by die name of
culottides — a name which must be granted to the time, and which is not
more absurd than many others adopted by nations. The first was to be that
of genius; the second that of labour; the third that of noble actions ■; the
fourth that of rewards ; the fifth and last, that of opinion. This last festival,
absolutely original, and perfecdy adapted to the French character, was to be
a sort of political carnival of twenty-four hours, during which people should
be allowed to say or to write, with impunity, whatever they pleased concern'
ing every public man. It was for opinion to do justice upon opinion itself;
and it behoved all magistrates to defend themselves by their virtues against
the truths and the calumnies of that day. Nothing could be more grand or
more moral than this idea. If a more mighty destiny has swept away the
thoughts and the institutions of that period, its vast and bold conceptions
ought not to be made the butt of ridicule. The Romans have not been held
ridiculous, because, on the day of triumph, the soldier, placed behind the
car of the triumpher, was at liberty to utter whatever his hatred or his mirth
suggested. As in every four years, the leap-year brought six complementary
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 365
days instead of five : this sixth Sans-culottide was to be called the festival
of the Revolution, and to be dedicated to a grand solemnity, In which the
French should celebrate the period of their enfranchisement, and the institu-
tion of the republic.
The day was divided according to the decimal system into ten parts or
hours, these into ten others, and so on. New dials were ordered for the
purpose of putting into practice this new method of calculating time ; but,
not to attempt too much at once, this latter reform was postponed for one
year.
The last revolution, the most difficult, the most accused of tyranny, was
that attempted in regard to religion. The revolutionary laws relative to reli-
gion had been left just as they were framed by the Constitutional Assembly.
It will be recollected that this first assembly, desirous of introducing into
the ecclesiastical administration a uniformity with the civil administration,
determined that the extent of every diocese should be the same as that of the
departments, that the bishop should be elective like all the other functionaries,
and that, in short, without touching the doctrines of the church, its discipline
should be regulated as all the parts of the political organization had just
been. Such was the civil constitution of the clergy, to which the ecclesias-
tics were obliged to bind themselves by oath. From that day, it will be re-
collected, a schism had taken place. Those who adhered to the new
institution were called constitutional or sworn priests, and those who refused
to do so, refractory priests. The latter were merely deprived of their func-
tions, and had a pension allowed them. The Legislative Assembly, seeing
that they were taking great pains to excite opinion against the new system,
placed them under the surveillance of the authorities of the departments,
and even decreed that, upon the decision of those authorities, they might be
banished from the territory of France. Lastly, the Convention, more severe
in proportion as their conduct became more seditious, condemned all the re-
fractory priests to exile.
As minds became daily more and more excited, people began to ask, why,
when all the old monarchical superstitions were abolished, there should yet
be retained a phantom of religion, in which scarcely any one continued to
believe, and which formed a most striking contrast with the new institutions
and the new manners of republican France. Laws had already been de-
manded for favouring married priests, and for protecting them against certain
local administrations, which wanted to deprive them of their functions. The
Convention, extremely reserved on this point, would not make any new
enactments relative to them^ and by this course it had authorized them to
retain their functions and their salaries. It had been solicited, moreover, in
certain petitions, to cease to allot salaries to any religion, to leave each sect
to pay its own ministers, to forbid outward ceremonies, and to oblige all the
religions to confine themselves to their own places of worship. All that the
Convention did was to reduce the bishops to the maximum of six thousand
francs, since there were some of them whose income amounted to seventy
thousand. On every other point it refused to interfere, and kept silence,
leaving France to take the initiative in the abolition of religions worship. It
wa3 fearful lest, by meddling itself with creeds, it should alienate part of
the population, still attached to the Catholic religion. The commune of
Paris, less reserved, seized this important occasion for a reform, and was
anxious to set the first example for the abjuration of Catholicism.
While the patriots of the Convention and of the Jacobins, while Robes-
pierre, St. Just, and the other revolutionary leaders, stopped short at deism,
2h2
366 HISTORY OF THE
Chaumette, Hebert, all the notables of the commune and of the Cordeliers,
placed lower by their functions and their knowledge, could not fail, agreea-
bly to the ordinary law, to overstep that limit, and to proceed to atheism.
They did not openly profess that doctrine, but there were grounds for im-
puting it to them. In their speeches and in their writings the name of God
was never mentioned, and they were incessantly repeating that a nation
ought to be governed by reason alone, and to allow no other worship but
that of reason. Chaumette was neither vulgar, nor malignant, nor ambitious,
like Hebert. He did not seek, by exaggerating the prevailing opinions, to
supplant the actual leaders of the Revolution, but, destitute of political vie •
full of a commonplace philosophy, possessed with an extraordinary propen-
sity for declamation, he preached up, with the zeal and devout pride of a
missionary, good morals, industry, the patriotic virtues, and lasdy, reason,
always abstaining from the mention of the name of God. He had inveighed
with vehemence against the plunder of the shops ; he had severely repri-
manded the women who had neglected their household concerns to take a
part in political commotions, and he had had the courage to order their club
to be shut up ; he had provoked the abolition of mendicity and the establish-
ment of public workshops for the purpose of giving employment to the
poor; he had thundered against prostitution, and prevailed on the com-
mune to prohibit the profession of women of the town, usually tolerated as
inevitable. These unfortunate creatures were forbidden to appear in public,
or even to carry on their deplorable trade in the interior of houses. Chau-
mette said that they belonged to monarchical and Catholic countries, where
there were idle citizens and unmarried priests, and that industry and mar-
riage ought to expel them from republics.
Chaumette, taking therefore the initiative in the name of that system of
reason, launched out at the commune against the publicity of the Catholic
worship.* He insisted that this was a privilege which that communion
ought no more to enjoy than any other, and that, if each sect had that
faculty, the streets and public places would soon become the theatre of the
most ridiculous farces. As the commune was invested with the local police,
he obtained a resolution, on the 23d of Vendemiaire (October the 14th) that
the ministers of no religion should be allowed to exercise their worship out
of the temples appropriated to it. He caused new funeral ceremonies for
the purpose of paying the last duties to the dead to be instituted. The
friends and relatives alone were to accompany the coffin. All the religious
signs were to be suppressed in cemeteries, and to be replaced by a statue of
Sleep, after the example of what Fouche had done in the department of the
Allier. Instead of cypress and doleful shrubs, the burial-grounds were to
be planted with such as were more cheerful and more fragrant. " Let the
beauty and the perfume of the flowers," said Chaumette, excite more sooth-
ing ideas. I would fain, if it were possible, be able to inhale in the scent
of the rose the spirit of my father !" All the outward signs of religion
were entirely abolished. It was also decided in the same resolution, and
likewise, at the instigation of Chaumette, that there should not be sold in the
streets " any kinds of jugglery, such as holy napkins, St. Veronica's hand-
kerchiefs, Ecce Homos, crosses, Agnus Deis, Virgins, bodies and rings of
St. Hubert, or any powders, medicinal waters, or other adulterated drugs."
" " Pache, Hebert, and Chaumette, the leaders of the municipality, publicly expressed
their determination to dethrone the King of heaven, as well as the kings of the earth.''—
Lacrelcllc. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 367
Tho image of the Virgin was everywhere suppressed, and all the Madonnas
in niches at the corners of streets were taken down to make room for busts
of Marat and Lepelletier.
Anacharsis Clootz,* the same Prussian baron, who, possessing an income
of one hundred thousand livres, had left his own country to come to Paris,
as the representative, he said, of the human race ; who had figured at the
first federation in 1790, at the head of the self-styled envoys of all nations ;
and who had afterwards been elected deputy to the National Convention —
Anacharsis Clootz incessantly preached up a universal republic and the wor-
ship of reason. Full of these two ideas, he was continually developing
them in his writings, and holding them forth to all nations, sometimes in
manifestoes, at others in addresses. To him deism appeared as culpable as
Catholicism itself. He never ceased to propose the destruction of tyrants
and of all sorts of gods, and insisted that, among mankind enfranchised and
enlightened, nothing ought to be left but pure reason, and its beneficent and
immortal worship. To the Convention he said, " I had no other way of
escaping from all the tyrants, sacred and profane, but continual travel ; I was
in Rome when they would have imprisoned me in Paris, and in London
when they would have burned me in Lisbon. It was by thus running hither
and thither, from one extremity of Europe to the other, that I escaped the
alguazils and the spies, all the masters and all the servants. My emigrations
ceased, when the emigration of villains commenced. The metropolis of the
globe, Paris, was the proper post for the orator of the human race. I have
not quitted it since 1789. It was then that I redoubled my zeal against the
pretended sovereigns of earth and heaven. I boldly preached that there is
no other God but Nature, no other sovereign but the human race, the people-
god. The people is sufficient for itself. It will subsist forever. Nature
kneels not before herself. Judge of the majesty of the free human race
by that of the French people, which is but a fraction of it. Judge of the
infallibility of the whole by the sagacity of a portion, which singly makes
the enslaved world tremble. The committee of surveillance of the univer-
sal republic will have less to do than the committee of the smallest section
of Paris. A general confidence will succeed a universal distrust. In my com-
monwealth there will be few public offices, few taxes, and no executioner.
Reason will unite all men into a single representative bundle, without any
other tie than epistolary correspondence. Citizens, religion is the only ob-
stacle to this Utopia. It is high time to destroy it. The human race has
burned its swaddling-clothes. « The people have no vigour,' said one of the
ancients, * but on the day that follows a bad reign.' Let us profit by this
first day, which we will prolong till the morrow for the deliverance of the
world."
The requisitions of Chaumette revived all the hopes of Clootz. He called
upon Gobel,t an intriguer of Porentruy, who had become constitutional
* " This personage, whose brain was none of the soundest by nature, disgusted with hit
baptismal name, had adopted that of the Scythian philosopher, and, uniting it with his own
Teutonic family appellation, entitled himself — Anacharsis Clootz, Orator of the human race !
He was, in point of absurdity, one of the most inimitable characters in the Revolution." —
Scott's Life of Napokon. E.
f " J. a. Gobel, Bishop of Lydda, suffragan of the Bishop of Bule, and deputy to the
States-general, embraced the popular party, and became odious and often ridiculous during
the Revolution. Though born with some abilities, his age and his weak character made him
the mere tool of the conspirators. In 1791 he was appointed constitutional Bishop of Paris,
and was the consecrator of the new bishops. Being admitted into the Jacobin club, he di»-
HISTORY OF THE
bishop of the department of Paris by that rapid movement which had ele-
vated Chaumette, Hebert, and so many others, to the highest municipal
functions. He persuaded him that the moment had arrived for abjuring, in
the face of France, the Catholic religion, of which he was the chief pontiff;
that his example would be followed by all the ministers of that communion ;
that it would enlighten the nation, produce a general abjuration, and thus
oblige the Convention to decree the abolition of all religions. Gobel would
not precisely abjure his creed, and thereby declare that he had been de-
ceiving men all his life; but he consented to go and abdicate the episcopacy.
Gobel then prevailed upon the majority of his vicars to follow his example.
It was agreed with Chaumette and the members of the department that all the
constituted authorities of Paris should accompany Gobel, and form part of
the deputation, to give it the more solemnity.
On the 17th of Brumaire (November 7, 1793), Momoro, Pache, L'Huil-
lier, Chaumette, Gobel, and all the vicars, repaired to the Convention. Chau-
mette and L'Huillier, both procureurs, one of the committee, the other of
the department, informed it that the clergy of Paris had come to pay a signal
and sincere homage to reason. They then introduced Gobel With a red
cap on his head, and holding in his hand his mitre, his crosier, his cross,
and his ring, he thus addressed the assembly. " Born a plebeian, care of
Porentruy, sent by my clergy to the first assembly, then raised to the arch-
bishopric of Paris, I have never ceased to obey the people. I accepted the
functions which that people formerly bestowed on me, and now, in obe-
dience to it, I am come to resign them. I suffered myself to be made a
bishop when the people wanted bishops. I cease to be so now when the
people no longer desire to have any." Gobel added that all his clergy, actu-
ated by the same sentiments, charged him to make the like declaration for
them. As he finished speaking, he laid down his mitre, his crosier, and his
ring. His clergy ratified his declaration.* The president replied, with great
tact, that the Convention had decreed freedom of religion, that it had left it
unshackled to each sect, that it had never interfered in their creeds, but that it
applauded those who, enlightened by reason, came to renounce their super-
stitions and their errors.
Gobel had not abjured either the priesthood or Catholicism. He had not
dared to declare himself an impostor who had come to confess his lies, but
others stretched this declaration for him. " Renouncing," said the cure of
Vaugirard, " the prejudices which fanaticism had infused into ray heart and
my mind, I lay down my letters of ordination." Several bishops and cure's,
members of the Convention, followed this example, and laid down their
letters of ordination, or abjured Catholicism. Julien of Toulouse abdicated
also his quality of Protestant minister. These abdications were hailed with
tinguished himself by his violent motions, and was one of the first to assume the dress of a
sans-culotte. He did not even fear, at the age of seventy, to declare at the bar of the Con-
vention, that the religion which he had professed from his youth was founded on error and
falsehood. He was one of the first who sacrificed to the goddess of Reason, and lent his
church for this absurd festival. This farce soon became the pretext for his ruin. He was
arrested as an accomplice of the faction of the atheists, and condemrd to I'eath in 1794. Gobel
was born at Hanne, in the department of the Upper Rhine. During his confinement, he
devoted himself again to his former religious exercises ; and, on his road to the scaffold, earn-
estly recited the prayers of tho dying." — Iiln<rraphie Moderne. E.
• " Terrified by a niijht-scene, which David, Clootz. and Peraud, ex-member for the de-
partment, and a professed atheist, bad played off in his apartment, Gobel went to the Assem-
bly at the head of his staff — that is to say, of his grand vicars — to abjure the Catholic worship.
Gobel at heart was certainly nothing lest than a freethinker." — Prudhommc. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 369
tumultuous applause by the Assembly and the tribunes. At this moment,
Gregoire,* Bishop of Blois, entered the hall. He was informed' of what had
passed, and was exhorted to follow the example of his colleagues. " Is it,"
said he, " the income attached to the episcopal functions that you wish me
to resign ? I resign it without regret. Is it my quality of priest and
bishop ? I cannot strip myself of that ; my religion forbids me. I appeal
to the freedom of religion." The words of Gregoire finished amidst tumult,
but they did not check the explosion of joy which this scene had excited.
The deputation quitted the Assembly attended by an immense concourse,
and proceeded to the Hdtel de Ville, to receive the congratulations of the
commune.
This example once given, it was no difficult matter to excite all the sec-
tions of Paris and all the communes of the republic to follow it. The sec-
tions soon met, and came one after another to declare that they renounced
the errors of superstition, and that they acknowledged no other worship than
that of reason. The section of L'Homme-Arme declared that it acknow-
ledged no other worship than that of truth and reason, no other fanaticism
than that of liberty and equality, no other doctrine than that of fraternity and
of the republican laws decreed since the 31st of May, 1793. The section
of La Reunion intimated that it would make a bonfire of all the confessionals
and of all the books used by the Catholics, and that it would shut up the
church of St. Mery. That of William Tell renounced for ever the worship
of error and imposture. That of Mutius Scaevola abjured the Catholic reli-
gion, and declared that next Decade it should celebrate at the high altar of
St. Sulpice the inauguration of the busts of Marat, Lepelletier, and Mutius
Scaevola ; that of Les Piques that it would adore no other God than the God
of liberty and equality ; and that of the Arsenal also renounced the Catholic
religion.
Thus the sections, taking the initiative, abjured the Catholic faith as the
established religion, and seized its edifices and its treasures, as pertaining to
the communal domains. The deputies on mission in the departments had
already incited a great number of communes to seize the moveable property
of the churches, which, they said, was not necessary for religion, and which,
moreover, like all public property, belonged to the state, and might, there-
fore,.be applied to its wants. Fouche had sent several chests of plate from
the department of the Allier. A greater quantity had arrived from other de-
partments. This example, followed in Paris and the environs, soon brought
piles of wealth to the bar of the Convention. All the churches were stripped,
and the communes sent deputations with the gold and silver accumulated in
the shrines of saints, or in places consecrated by ancient devotion. They
went in procession to the Convention, and the rabble, indulging their fond-
ness for the burlesque, caricatured in the most ludicrous manner the cere-
• " H. Gregoire, was born in 1750, and was one of the first of his order who went to the
hall of the tiera-etat. He was also the first ecclesiastic who took the constitutional oath, and
was elected Bishop of Blois. In 1792 he was appointed deputy to the Convention, and was
soon afterwards chosen president He voted for the King's death. When Gobel, the con-
stitutional Bishop of Paris, came to the bar to abjure the Catholic religion and the episcopal
functions, Gregoire withstood the example, and even ventured to blame his conduct In 1794
he made several reports on the irreparable injury which Terrorism had done to the arts and
to letters. In 1799 he entered into the newly-created legislative body, and in the following
year was appointed president of it. Gregoire deserved well of the sciences by the energy
with which he pleaded the cause of men of letters and of artists, during the revolutionary re-
gime. He published several works, and in 1803 travelled into England, and afterwards into
Germany." — Biographic Madame. E.
VOL. II. — 47
370 HISTORY OF THE
monies of religion, and took as much delight in profaning, as they had
formerly done in celebrating them. Men, wearing surplices and copes,
came singing Hallelujahs, and dancing the Carmagnole, to the bar of the
Convention ; there they deposited the host, the boxes in which it was kept,
and the statues of gold and silver ; they made burlesque speeches, and some-
times addressed the most singular apostrophes to the saints themselves. " O
you !" exclaimed a deputation from St. Denis, " O you, instruments of fanati-
cism, blessed saints of all kinds, be at length patriots, rise en masse, serve
the country by going to the Mint to be melted, and give us in this world that
felicity which you wanted to obtain for us in the other !" These scenes of
merriment were followed all at once by scenes of reverence and devotion.
The same persons who trampled under foot the saints of Christianity bore an
awning; the curtains were thrown back, and, pointing to the busts of .M
and Lepelletier, " These," said they, " are not gods made by men, but the
images of worthy citizens assassinated by the slaves of kings." They then
filed off before the Convention, again singing Hallelujahs and dancing the Car-
magnole ; carried the rich spoils of the altars to the Mint, and placed the re-
vered busts of Marat and Lepelletier in the churches, which thenceforth
became the temples of a new worship.
At the requisition of Chaumette, it was resolved that the metropolitan
church of Notre-Dame should be converted into a republican edifice, called
the Twiple of Reason. A festival was instituted for all the Decadis, to su-
persede the Catholic ceremonies of Sunday. The mayor, the municipal
officers, the public functionaries, repaired to the Temple of Reason, where
they read the declaration of the rights of man and the constitutional act, ana-
lyzed the news from the armies, and related the brilliant actions which had
been performed during the decade. A mouth of truth, resembling the mouths
of denunciation which formerly existed at Venice, was placed in the Temple
of Reason, to receive opinions, censures, advice, that might be useful to the
public. These letters were examined and read every D6cadi ; a moral dis-
course was delivered, after which pieces of music were performed, and the
ceremonies concluded with the singing of republican hymns. There were in
the temple two tribunes, one for aged men, the ^)ther for pregnant women,
with these inscriptions : Respect for old age — Respect and attention for
pregnant women.
The first festival of Reason was held with pomp on the 20th of Brumaire
(the 10th of November). It was attended by all the sections, together with
the constituted authorities. A young woman represented the goddess of
Reason. She was the wife of Momoro, the printer, one of the friends of
Vincent, Ronsin, Chaumette, Hebert, and the like. She was dressed in a
white drapery; a mantle of azure blue hung from her shoulders; her flowing
hair was covered with the cap of liberty. She sat upon an antique seat, in-
twined with ivy and borne by four citizens. Young girls dressed in white,
and crowned with roses, preceded and followed the goddess. Then came
the busts of Lepelletier and Marat, musicians, troops, and all the armed
sections. Speeches were delivered, and hymns sung in the Temple of
Reason;* they then proceeded to the Convention, and Chaumette spoke in
these terma :
"Legislators! Fanaticism has given way to reason. Its bleared ryes
could not endure the brilliancy of the light. This day an immense con-
course has assembled beneath those Gothic vaults, which, for the first time,
• " Beauty without modesty waa teen usurping the place of the Holy of Holies." —
Btuuregard. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 371
re-echoed the truth. There the French have celebrated the only true wor-
ship, that of liberty, that of reason. There we have formed wishes for the
prosperity of the arms of the republic. There we have abandoned inanimate
idols for reason, for that animated image, the master-piece of nature." As
he uttered these words, Chaumette pointed to the living goddess of Reason.
The young and beautiful woman descended from her seat and went up to the
president, who gave her the fraternal kiss, amidst universal bravoes and
shouts of The Republic for ever! Reason for ever! Down with funati-
ristii! The Convention, which had not yet taken any part in these repre-
sentations, was hurried away, and obliged to follow the procession, which
returned to the Temple of Reason, and there sang a patriotic hymn. An. im-
portant piece of intelligence, that of the retaking of Noirmoutier from Cha-
rette,* increased the general joy, and furnished a more real motive for it than
the abolition of fanaticism.
It is impossible to view with any other feeling than disgust these scenes
without devotion, without sincerity, exhibited by a nation which changed its
worship, without comprehending either the old system, or that which they
substituted for it. When is the populace sincere? When is it capable of
comprehending the dogmas which are given to it to believe ? What does it
in general want? Large assemblages, which gratify its fondness for public
meetings, symbolic spectacles, which incessantly remind it of a power supe-
rior to its own; lastly, festivals in which homage is paid to those who have
made the nearest approach to the good, the fair, the great — in short, temples,
ceremonies, and saints. Here were temples, Reason, Marat, and Lepelle-
tier ! t It was assembled, it adored a mysterious power, it celebrated those
two men. All its wants were satisfied, and it gave way to them on this oc-
casion no otherwise than it always gives way.
If then we survey the state of France at this period, we shall see that
never were more restraints imposed at once on that inert and patient part of
the population on which political experiments are made. People dared no
longer express any opinion. They were afraid to visit their friends, lest
they might be compromised with them, and lose liberty and even life. A
hundred thousand arrests and some hundreds of condemnations, rendered
imprisonment and the scaffold ever present .to the minds of twenty-five
millions of French. They had to bear heavy taxes. If, by a perfectly ar-
bitrary classification, they were placed on the list of the rich, they lost for
* " When the republicans retook Noirmoutier, they found M. d'Elbee at death's door
from his wounds. His wife might have got away, but she would not leave him. When the
republicans entered his chamber, they said, ' So, this is d'Elbee!' — 'Yes,' replied he, 'you
see your greatest enemy, and, had I strength to fight, you should not have taken Noirmou-
tier ; or at least you should have' purchased it dearly.' They kept him five days, and loaded
him with insults. At length, exhausted by suffering, he said, 'Gentlemen, it is time to con-
clude your examination — let me die.' As he was unable to stand, they placed him in an
arm-chair, where he was shot. His wife, on seeing him carried to execution, fainted away.
A republican officer showing some pity, supported her, but he also was threatened to be shot
if he did not leave her. She was put to death the next day. The republicans then filled a
street with fugitives and suspected inhabitants, and massacred the whole." — Memoirs of the
Marchioness de Larochejaquelein. E.
f " Every tenth day a revolutionary leader ascended the pulpit, and preached atheism to
the bewildered audience. Marat was universally deified, and even the instrument of death
was sanctified by the name of the Holy Guillotine ! On all the public cemeteries this inscrip-
tion was placed — Death is an eternal sleep. The comedian Monert, in the church of St.
Roche, carried impiety to its height ' God, if you exist,' said he, ' avenge your injured
name ! I bid you defiance. You remain silent You dare not launch your thunders. Who
after this will believe in your existence V " — Alison. E.
372 HISTORY OF THE
that year a portion of their income. Sometimes, at the requisition of a re-
presentative or of some agent or other, they were obliged to give up their
crops, or their most valuable effects in gold and silver. They durst no longer
display any luxury, or indulge in noisy pleasures. They were no longer per-
mitted to use metallic money, but obliged to take and give a depreciated pa-
per, with which it was difficult to procure such things as they needed. They
were forced, if shopkeepers, to sell at a fictitious price, if buyers, to put up
with the worst commodities, because the best shunned the maximum and
the assignats; sometimes, indeed, they had to do without either, because
good and bad were alike concealed. They had but one sort of black bread,
common to the rich as to the poor, for which they were obliged to contend
at the doors of the bakers, after waiting for several hours. Lastly, the names
of the weights and measures, the names of the months and days, were
changed; there were but three Sundays instead of four; and the women and
the aged men were deprived of those religious ceremonies which they had
been accustomed to attend all their lives.*
Never had power overthrown with greater violence the habits of a people.
To threaten all lives, to decimate all fortunes, to fix compulsorily the stand-
ard of the exchanges, to give new names to all things, to abolish the cere-
monies of religion, is indisputably the most atrocious of tyrannies, if we do
not take into account the danger of the state, the inevitable crisis of com-
merce, and the spirit of system inseparable from the spirit of innovation.
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
RETURN OF D ANTON— PART OF THE MOUNTAINEERS TAKE PITY ON
THE PROSCRIBED, AND DECLARE AGAINST THE NEW WORSHIP—
DANTONISTS AND HEBERTISTS— POLICY OF THE COMMITTEE OF
PUBLIC WELFARE— ROBESPIERRE DEFEND8 DANTON, AND CAR-
RIES A MOTION FOR THE ABOLITION OF THE NEW WORSHIP-
LAST IMPROVEMENTS MADE IN THE DICTATORIAL GOVERNMENT-
ENERGY OF THE COMMITTEE AGAINST ALL THE PARTIES— ARREST
OF RONSIN, HEBERT, THE FOUR DEPUTIES WHO FABRICATED
THE SPURIOUS DECREE, AND THE ALLEGED AGENTS OF THE
FOREIGN POWERS.
Since the fall of the Girondins, the Mountaineer party, left alone and
victorious, had begun to be disunited. The daily increasing excesses of the
Revolution tended to complete this division, and an absolute rupture was
near at hand. Many deputies had been moved by the fate of the Girondins,
of Bailly, of Brunet, and of Houchard. Others censured the violence com-
* " The services of religion were now universally abandoned. The pulpits were deserted
throughout the revolutionary districts ; baptisms ceased ; the burial service was no longer
heard ; the sick received no communion, the dying no consolation. The village bells were
silent Sunday was obliterated. Infancy entered the world without a blessing ; age quitted
it without a hope." — Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 373
nutted in regard to religion, and deemed it impolitic and dangerous. They
said that new superstitions would start up in the place of those which peo-
ple were anxious to destroy ; that the pretended worship of reason was no
better than atheism ; that atheism could not be adapted to a nation ; and that
these extravagances must be instigated and rewarded by the foreign enemy.
On the contrary, the party which held sway at the Cordeliers and at the
commune, which had Hebert for its writer, Ronsin and Vincent for its
leaders, Chaumette and Clootz "for its apostles, insisted that its adversaries
meant to resuscitate a moderate faction, and to produce fresh dissensions in
the republic.
Danton had returned from his retirement. He did not express his senti-
ments, but the leader of a party would in vain attempt to conceal them.
They pass from mouth to mouth, and soon become manifest to all minds.
It was well known that he would fain have prevented the execution of the
Girondins, and that he had been deeply moved by their tragic end. It was
well known that, though a partisan and an inventor of revolutionary means,
he began to condemn the blind and ferocious employment of them ; that he
was of opinion that violence ought not to be prolonged beyond the existence
of danger ; and that, at the close of the current campaign, and after the
entire expulsion of the enemy, it was his intention to endeavour to re-esta-
blish the reign of mild and equitable laws. None dared yet attack him in
the tribunes of the clubs. Hebert dared not insult him in his paper of
Pere Duchesne ; but the most insidious rumours were orally circulated ;
insinuations were thrown out against his integrity ; the peculations in Bel-
gium were referred to with more boldness than ever; and some had even
gone so far as to assert, during his seclusion at Arcis-sur-Aube, that he had
emigrated and carried his wealth along with him. With him were associ-
ated, as no better than himself, his friend Camille-Desmoulins, who had
participated in his pity for the Girondins, and defended Dillon and Philip-
peaux, who had just returned from La Vendee, enraged against the disor-
ganizers, and quite ready to denounce Ronsin and Rossignol. In his party
were likewise classed all those who had in any way displeased the ardent
revolutionists, and their number began to be very considerable.
Julien of Toulouse, who was already strongly suspected on account of his
connexion with d'Espagnac and the contractors, had completely committed
himself by a report on the federalist administrations, in which he strove to
palliate the faults of most of them. No sooner was it delivered, than the
indignant Cordeliers and Jacobins obliged him to retract it. They made
inquiries concerning his private life; they discovered that he lived with
stockjobbers, and cohabited with a ci-devant countess, and they declared
him to be at once dissolute and a moderate. Fabre d'Eglantine had all at
once changed his situation, and lived in a higher style than he had ever
before been known to do. The capuchin Chabot, who, on espousing the
cause of the Revolution, had nothing but his ecclesiastical pension, had also
lately begun to display expensive furniture, and married the young sister of
the two Freys, with a dower of two hundred thousand livres. This sudden
change of fortune excited suspicions against these recently enriched depu-
ties, and it was not long before a proposition which they made to the Con-
vention completed their ruin. Osselin, a deputy, had just been arrested, on
charge of having concealed a female emigrant. Fabre, Chabot, Julien, and
Delauriay, who were not easy on their own account; Bazire and Thuriot,
who had nothing wherewith to reproach themselves, but who perceived with
alarm that even members of the Convention were not spared, proposed a
21
374 HISTORY OF THE
decree purporting that no deputy could be arrested till he had been first
heard at the bar. This decree was adopted ; but all the clubs and the Jaco-
bins inveighed against it, and alleged that it was an attempt to renew the
inviolability. They caused a report to be made upon it, and commenced
the strictest inquiry concerning those who had proposed it, their conduct,
:ind the origin of their sudden wealth. Julien, Fabre, Chabot, Delaunay,
Bazire, Thuriot, stripped of their popularity in a few days, were classed
among the party of equivocal and moderate men. Hebert loaded them
with the grossest abuse in his paper, and delivered them up to the lowest of
the populace.
Four or five other persons shared the same fate, though hitherto acknow-
ledged to be excellent patriots. They were Proly, Pereyra, Gusman, Du-
buisson, and Desfieux. Natives almost all of them of foreign countries,
they had come, like the two Freys and Clootz, and thrown themselves into
the French Revolution, out of enthusiasm, and probably, also, from a desire
to make their fortune. Nobody cared who or what they were, so long as
they appeared to be zealous votaries of the Revolution. Proly, who was a
native of Brussels, had been sent with Pereyra and Desfieux to Dumouriez,
to discover his intentions. They drew from him an explanation of them,
and then went, as we have related, and denounced him to the Convention and
to the Jacobins. So far all was right ; but they had also been employed by
Lebrun, because, being foreigners and well-informed men, they were capa-
ble of rendering good service in the foreign department. In their intercourse
with Lebrun they had learned to esteem him, and they had defended him.
Proly had been well acquainted with Dumouriez, and, notwithstanding the
defection of that general, he had persisted in extolling his talents, and assert-
ing that he might have been retained for the republic. Lastly, almost all of
them, possessing a better knowledge of the neighbouring countries, had
censured the application of the Jacobin system to Belgium and to the pro-
vinces united with France. Their expressions were noted, and when a
general distrust led to the notion of the secret interference of a foreign fac-
tion, people began to suspect them, and to call to mind the language which
they had held. It was known that Proly was a natural son of Kaunitz ; he
was supposed to be the principal leader, and they were all metamorphosed
into spies of Pitt and Coburg. Rage soon knew no bounds, and the very
exaggeration of their patriotism, which they deemed likely to justify them,
only served to compromise them still more. They were confounded with
the party of the equivocal men, the moderates. Whenever Danton or his
friends had any remark to make on the faults of the ministerial agents, or on
the violence exercised against religion, the party of Hebert, Vincent, and
Ronsin, replied by crying out against moderation, corruption, and the foreign
faction.
As usual, the moderates flung back this accusation to their adversaries,
saying, " It is you who are the accomplices of these foreigners ; your con-
nexion with them is proved, as well by the common violence of your lan-
guage, as by the determination to overturn everything, and to carry matters
to extremities. Look," added they, " at that commune, which arrogates to
itself a legislative authority, and passes laws under the modest title of reso-
lutions; which regulates everything, the police, the markets, and public
worship ; which, at its own good pleasure, substitutes one religion for an-
other, supersedes ancient superstitions by new superstitions, preaches up
atheism, and causes its example to be followed by all the municipalities of
the republic ; look at those offices of the war department, whence issue a
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 375
multitude of agents, who spread themselves over the provinces, to vie with
the representatives, to practise the greatest oppressions, and to decry the
Revolution by their conduct; look at that commune, at those offices — what
do they moan hut to usurp the legislative and executive authority, to dispos-
sess the Convention and the committees, and to dissolve the government?
Who can urge them on to this goal but the foreign enemy V
Amidst these agitations and these quarrels, it behoved authority to'pursue
a vigorous course. Robespierre thought, with the whole committee, that
these reciprocal accusations were extremely dangerous. His policy, as we
have already seen, had consisted, ever since the 31st of May, in preventing
■ now revolutionary outbreak, in rallying opinion around the Convention,
and the Convention around the committee, in order to create an energetic
power ; and, to this end, he had made use of the Jacobins, who were all-
powerful upon public opinion. These new charges against accredited
patriots, such as Danton and Camille-Desmoulins, appeared to him very
dangerous. He was afraid that no reputation would be able to stand against
men's imaginations when once let loose ; he was apprehensive lest the violence
done to religion might alienate part of France, and cause the Revolution to
be regarded as atheistical ; lastly, he fancied that he beheld the hand of the
foreign foe in this vast confusion. He therefore took good care to seize the
opportunity which Hebert soon afforded him, to explain his sentiments on
this subject to the Jacobins.
The intentions of Robespierre had transpired. It was whispered about
that he was going to attack Pache,* Hebert, Chaumette, and Clootz, the
author of the movement against religion. Proly, Desfieux, and Pereyra,
already compromised and threatened, resolved to unite their cause with that
of Pache, Chaumette, and Hebert. They called upon them, and told them
that there was a conspiracy against the best patriots ; that they were all
equally in danger, that they ought to support and reciprocally defend each
other. Hebert then went to the Jacobins, on the 1st of Frimaire (Novem-
ber 21, 1793), and complained of a plan of disunion tending to divide the
patriots. " Wherever I go," said he, " I meet with people who congratu-
late me on not being yet arrested. It is reported that Robespierre intends to
denounce me, Chaumette, and Pache. As for me, who put myself forward
every day for the interests of the country, and say everything that comes into
my head, the rumour may have some foundation ; but Pache ! .... I know the
high esteem which Robespierre has for him, and I fling far from me such
an idea. It has been said, too, that Danton has emigrated, that he has gone
to Switzerland, laden with the spoils of the people I met him this
morning in the Tuileries, and, since he is in Paris, he ought to come to the
Jacobins, and explain himself in a brotherly manner. It is a duty which
all the patriots owe to themselves to contradict the injurious reports which
are circulated respecting them." Hebert then stated that he had learned
part of these reports from Dubuisson, who insisted on revealing to him a
conspiracy against the patriots ; and, according to the usual custom of
throwing all blame upon the vanquished, he added that the cause of the
troubles was in the accomplices of Brissot, who were still living, and in the
Bourbons, who were still in the Temple. Robespierre immediately
mounted the tribune. " Is it true," said he, " that our most dangerous ene-
mies are the impure remnants of the race of our tyrants ? 1 vote in my
heart that the race of tyrants disappear from the earth ; but can I shut my
• " Pache wa* a man who was more fatal to Franco than even a hostile army." —
Merrier. E.
376 HISTORY OF THE
eyes to the state of my country so completely as to believe that this event
would suffice to extinguish the flames of those conspiracies which are con-
suming us ? Whom shall we persuade that the punishment of the despi-
cable sister of Capet would awe our enemies, more than that of Capet him-
self and of his guilty partner ?
" Is it true that another cause of our calamities is fanaticism ? Fanaticism !
it is dying; nay, I may say, it is dead. In directing, for some days past, all
our energy against it, are not we diverting our attention from real dangers ?
You are afraid of the priests, and they are eagerly abdicating their titles, and
exchanging them for those of municipals, of administrators, and even of presi-
dents of popular societies. Formerly, they were strongly attached to their
ministry, when it produced them an income of seventy thousand livres; they
abdicated it when it yielded them no more than six thousand. Yes; liar
not their fanaticism, but their ambition; not the dress which they did wear,
but the new hide which they have put on. Fear not the old superstition,
but the new and false superstition, which men feign to embrace in order to
ruin us !"
Grappling at once the question of religion, Robespierre thus proceeded :
" Let citizens animated by a pure zeal, deposit on the altar of the country
the useless and pompous monuments of superstition, that they may be ren-
dered subservient to the triumphs of liberty: the country and reason smile
at these offerings ; but what right have aristocracy and hypocrisy to mingle
their influence with that of civism ? What right have men, hitherto unknown
in the career of the Revolution, to seek amidst all these events the means of
usurping a false popularity, of hurrying the very patriots into false measures,
and of throwing disturbance and discord among us ? What right have they
to violate the liberty of religion in the name of liberty, and to attack fanati-
cism with a new fanaticism ? What right have they to make the solemn
homage paid to pure truth degenerate into wearisome and ridiculous
farces ?
" It has been supposed that, in accepting the civic offerings, the Conven-
tion has proscribed the Catholic worship. No, the Convention has taken
no such step, and never will take it. Its intention is to uphold the liberty
of worship which it has proclaimed, and to repress at the same time all those
who shall abuse it to disturb public order. It will not allow the peaceful
ministers of the different religions to be persecuted, and it will punish thorn
severely, whenever they shall dare to avail themselves of their functions to
mislead the citizens, and to arm prejudice or royalism against the re-
public.
"There are men who would fain go further; who, upon the pretext of
destroying superstition, would fain make a sort of religion of atheism iwelf.
Every philosopher, every individual, is at liberty to adopt on that subject
what opinion he pleases; whoever would make a crime of this is a madman ;
but the public man, the legislator, would be a hundred times more insane,
who should adopt such a system. The National Convention abhors it. The
Convention is not a maker of books and of systems. It is a political and
popular body. Atheism is aristocratic. The idea of a great Being, who
watches over oppressed innocence, and who punishes triumphant guilt, is
quite popular. The people, the unfortunate, applaud me. If there are any
who censure, they must belong to the rich and to the guilty. I have been
from my college years a very indifferent Catholic ; but I have never been a
cold friend, or an unfaithful defender of humanity. I am on that account
only the more attached to the moral and political ideas which I have here
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 377
expounded to you. If God did not exist, it would behove man to invent
hilar*
Robespierre, after making this profession of faith, imputed to the foreign
foe the persecutions exercised against religion, and the calumnies circulated
against the best patriots. Robespierre, who was extremely distrustful, and
who had supposed the Girondins to be royalists, was a firm believer in a
foreign faction, which, as we have observed, consisted at most of a few spies
sent to the armies, certain bankers who were the agents of stockjobbers, and
correspondents of the emigrants. " The foreigners," said he, " have two
sorts of armies : the one on our frontiers is powerless and nearly ruined ; the
other, the more dangerous of the two, is in the midst of us. It is an army
of spies, of hireling knaves, who introduce themselves everywhere, even
into the bosom of the popular societies. It is this faction which has per-
suaded Hebert that I meant to cause Pache, Chaumette, Hebert, the whole
commune, to be arrested. I persecute Pache, whose simple and modest
virtue I have always admired and defended ! — I, who have fought for him
against a Brissot and his accomplices !" Robespierre praised Pache, but
took no notice of Hebert. He merely said that he had not forgotten the
services of the commune in the days when liberty was in danger. Then,
launching out against what he called the foreign faction, he hurled the bolts
of the Jacobins at Proly, Dubuisson, Pereyra, and Desfieux. He related
their history, he depicted them as the agents of Lebrun and of the foreign
powers, employed to imbitter animosities, to divide the patriots, and to in-
flame them against one another. From the manner in which he expressed
himself, it was obvious that the hatred which he felt for old friends of Le-
brun, had no small share in producing his distrust. On his motion, all four
were expelled from the society, amidst the most tumultuous applause, and
he proposed a purifying scrutiny for all the Jacobins.
Thus Robespierre had hurled an anathema at the new worship, given a
severe lesson to all the firebrands, said nothing very consolatory to Hebert,
not committed himself so far as to praise that filthy writer, and directed the
whole fury of the storm upon foreigners, who had the misfortune to be
friends of Lebrun, to admire Dumouriez, and to censure our political system
in the conquered countries. LasUy, he had arrogated to himself the recom-
position of the society, by obtaining the adoption of his motion for a purify-
ing scrutiny.
During the succeeding days, Robespierre followed up his system, and
read letters to the Jacobins, some anonymous, others intercepted, proving
that foreigners, if they did not produce, at least rejoiced at, the extravagances
in regard to religion, and the calumnies in regard to the best patriots. Dan-
ton had received from Hebert a sort of challenge to explain himself. He
would not do so at first, lest it should appear as though he were obeying a
summons ; but, a fortnight afterwards, he seized a favourable occasion for
addressing the Assembly. A proposition had been brought forward that all
the popular societies should be furnished with a place for meeting at the
expense of the state. On this subject he made various observations, and
thence took occasion to say that, if the constitution ought to be lulled to
* " Robespierre, with all his fanaticism in favour of democracy, felt the necessity as strongly
as any man in France, both of some religious impressions to form a curb upon the passions
of the people, and of a strong central government to check their excesses. He early felt a
horror of the infidel atrocities of the municipality ; and saw that such principles, if persisted
in, would utterly disorganize society throughout France. With the sanguinary spirit of the
times, he resolved to effect it by their extermination." — Alison. E.
vol. H. — 48 2 i 2
378 HISTORY OF THE
sleep while the people strikes and terrifies the enemies of its revolutionary-
operations, it was nevertheless right to beware of those who would urge that
same people beyond the bounds of the Revolution. Coupe of the Oisc
replied to Danton, and distorted, whilst opposing, his ideas. Danton imme-
diately reascended the tribune, amidst some murmurs. He then challenged
those who had anything to allege against him to bring forward their charges,
that he might reply to them publicly. He complained of the disapprobation
which was expressed in his presence. " Have I then lost," he exclaimed,
" those features which characterize the face of a free man ?" As he uttered
these words, he shook that head which had been so often seen, so often
encountered, amid the storms of the Revolution, and which had always
encouraged the daring of the republicans, and struck terror into the aristo-
crats. " Am I no longer," he continued, " the same man who was au your
side in every critical moment ? Am I no longer that man so persecuted, so
well known to you — that man whom you have so often embraced as your
friend, and with whom you have sworn to die in the same dangers V He
then reminded the assembly that he was the defender of Marat, and was
thus obliged to cover himself, as it were, with the shade of that creature
whom he had formerly protected and disdained. " You will be surprised,"
said he, " when I shall make you acquainted with my private conduct, to
see that the prodigious fortune which my enemies and yours have attributed
to me is dwindled down to the very small portion of property which I have
always possessed. I defy malice to furnish any proof against me. Its
utmost efforts will not be able to shake me. I will take my stand in face
of the people. You shall judge me in its presence. I will no more tear the
leaf of my history, than you will tear yours." In conclusion, Danton
demanded a commission to investigate the accusations preferred against him.
Robespierre then rushed in the utmost haste to the tribune. "Danton," he
exclaimed, "demands of you a commission to investigate his conduct. I
consent to it, if he thinks that this measure will prove serviceable to him.
He wishes the crimes with which he is charged to be specified. Well, I
will specify them. Danton, thou art accused of having emigrated. It has
been said that thou hadst gone to Switzerland ; that thy indisposition was
feigned to disguise thy flight from the people ; it has been said that it was
thy ambition to be regent under Louis XVII ; that everything was prepared
for proclaiming, at a fixed time, this shoot of the Capets ; that thou wert at
the head of the conspiracy; that neither Pitt, nor Coburg, nor England, nor
Austria, nor Prussia, was our real enemy, but thyself alone ; that the Moun-
tain was composed of thine accomplices ; that it was silly to bestow a thoiiLrlit
on agents sent by the foreign powers ; that their conspiracies were fables
wortby only of contempt; in short, that it was thou, and thou alone, who
ou^htest to be put to death !"
Universal applause drowned the voice of Robespierre. He resumed :
" Knowest thou not, Danton, that the more courage and patriotism a man
possesses, the more intent are the enemies of the public weal upon his
destruction ? Knowest thou not, and know ye not all, citizens, that this
method is infallible? Ah! if the defender of liberty were not slandered, this
would be a proof that we had no more nobles or priests to combat !" Then
alluding to Hebert's paper, in which he, Robespierre, was highly pr
he added: " The enemies of the country seem to overwhelm me exclusively
with praises. But I spurn them. It is supposed that, besides these pr:u>.-s
which are repeated in certain papers, I do not perceive the knife with which
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 379
they would fain slaughter the country.* The cause of the patriots is like
that of the tyrants. They are all security for one another. I may be mis-
tukt it respecting Danton, but I have seen him in his family; he deserves
nothing but praise. In his political relations, I have watched him; a differ-
cii r of opinion led me to study him with attention, frequently with anger;
he was slow, 1 admit, to suspect Dumouriez ; he did not hate Brissot and
his accomplices cordially enough ; but, if he was not always of the same
sentiments as myself, am I thence to conclude that he betrayed the country?
No, I always saw him serve it with zeal. Danton wishes to be tried. He
is right. Let me be tried, too! Let them produce men more patriotic than
we are. I would wager that they are nobles, privUeged persons, priests.
You will there find a marquis, and you will have the exact measure of the
patriotism of those who accuse us."
Robespierre then called upon all those who had anything to allege against
Danton to come forward. No one durst speak. Momoro, himself a friend
of Hebert's, was the first to remark that, as no person came forward, this
was a proof that there was nothing to be alleged against Danton. A mem-
ber then proposed that the president should give him the fraternal embrace.
It was agreed to, and Danton, stepping up to the bureau, received the em-
brace amidst universal applause.
The conduct of Robespierre on this occasion was generous and clever.
The danger common to all the old patriots, the ingratitude with which
Danton's services were repaid, and, lastly, a decided superiority, had lifted
Robespierre above his habitual egotism; and, for this time full of right senti-
ments, he was more eloquent than it was given to his nature to be. But the
service which he had rendered Danton had been more useful to the cause of
the government, and of the old patriots who composed it, than to Danton
himself, whose popularity was gone. Extinct enthusiasm cannot easily be
rekindled ; and there was no reason to presume that there would again be
public dangers great enough to afford Danton, by his courage, the means of
retrieving his influence.
Robespierre, prosecuting his work, did not fail to attend every sitting of
purification. When it came to Clootz's turn, he was accused of connexions
with Vandeniver, the foreign banker. He attempted to justify himself, but
Robespierre addressed the society. He reminded it of Clootz's connexions
with the Girondins, his rupture with them, owing to a pamphlet entitled
"Neither Roland nor Marat" a pamphlet in which he attacked the Moun-
tain as strongly as the Gironde ; his extravagant exaggeration, his perseve-
rance in talking of a universal republic, in exciting a rage for conquests, and
in compromising France with all Europe. " And how," continued Robes-
pierre, M could M. Clootz interest himself in the welfare of France, when
lie took so deep an interest in the welfare of Persia and Monomotapa? There
is a recent crisis, indeed, of which he may boast. I allude to the movement
against the established worship— a movement which, conducted rationally
and deliberately, might have produced excellent effects, but the violence of
which was liable to do the greatest mischief. M. Clootz had a conference
one night with Bishop Gobel. Gobel gave him a promise, and, next day,
suddenly changing language and dress, he gave up his letters of ordination.
M. Clootz imagined that we should be dupes of these masquerades. No, no;
* " Hebert's municipal faction contained many obscure foreigners, who were supposed, and
not without some appearance of truth, to be the agents of England, for the purpose of de-
stroying the republic, by driving it to excess and anarchy." — Mignet. E.
380 HISTORY OF THE
the Jacobins will never regard as a friend of the people this pretended sans-
culotte, who is a Prussian and a baron, who possesses an income of one hun-
dred thousand livres, who dines with conspirator bankers, and who is the
orator, not of the French people, but of the human race."
Clootz was immediately excluded from the society, and, on the motion of
Robespierre, it was decided that all nobles, priests, bankers, and foreigners,
without distinction, should be excluded.
At the next sitting, it came to the turn of Camille-Desmoulins. He was
reproached with his letter to Dillon, and feelings of compassion for the Gi-
rondins. " I thought Dillon a brave and a clever man," said Camille, '•and
I defended him. As for the Girondins, I was peculiarly situated in regard
to them. I have always loved and served the republic, but I have frequent-
ly been wrong in my notions of those who served it. I adored Mirabrau, I
loved Barnave and the Lameths, I admit; but I sacrificed my friendship and
my admiration, as soon as I knew that they had ceased to be Jacobins. A
most extraordinary fatality decreed that out of sixty revolutionists who sign-
ed my marriage contract, only two friends, Danton and Robespierre, are now
left. All the others have emigrated or been guillotined. Of this number
were seven of the twenty-two. An emotion of sympathy was therefore very
pardonable on this occasion. I have said," added Desmoulins, " that they
died as republicans, but as federalist republicans ; for I assure you that I be-
lieve there were not many royalists among them."
Camille-Desmoulins was beloved for his easy disposition and his natural
and original turn of mind. " Camille has made a bad choice of his friends,"
said a Jacobin ; "let us prove to him that we know better how to choose ours,
by receiving him with open arms." Robespierre, ever the protector of his
old colleagues, but assuming at the same time a tone of superiority, defend-
ed Camille-Desmoulins.
" He is weak," said he, " and confiding, but he has always been a repub-
lican. He loved Mirabeau, Lameth, Dillon, but he has broken his idols as
soon as he was undeceived. Let him pursue his career, and be more cautious
in future." After this exhortation, Camille was admitted amidst applause.
Danton was then admitted without any observation, and Fabre d'Eglantine
in his turn, but he had to submit to some questions concerning his fortune,
which he was allowed to attribute to his literary talents. This purification
was continued, and occupied a long time. It was begun in November, 1793,
and lasted several months.
The policy of Robespierre and the government was well known. The
energy with which this policy had been manifested, intimidated the restless
promoters of the new worship, and they began to think of retracting, and of
retracing their steps.* Chaumette, who had the eloquence of a speaker at a
club or at a commune, but who had neither the ambition nor the courage of
* The municipal faction of Chaumette and Hehcrt had not only struck at the root of re-
ligious worship, but they had attempted also to alter the whole existing social code. " The
most sacred relations of life," says Mr. Alison, " were at the same period placed on a new
footing, suited to the extravagant ideas of the times. Marriage was declared a civil contract,
binding only during the pleasure of the contracting parties. Divorce immediately became
general ; and the corruption of manners reached a height unknown during the worst days of
the monarchy. So indiscriminate did concubinage become, that, by a decree of the Conven-
tion, bastards were declared entitled to an equal share of the succession with legitimate child-
ren. The divorces in Paris in the first three months of 1792 were 5G2, while the marriages
were only 1785 — a proportion probably unexampled among mankind ! The consequences
soon became apparent Before the era of the Consulate, one-half of the whole births in Paris
were illegitimate." E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 381
a party-leader, did not by any means pretend to vie with the Convention, and
to set himself up for the creator of a new worship. He was anxious, there-
fore, to seize an occasion for repairing his fault He resolved to obtain
an explanation of the resolution which shut up all the places of worship, and
proposed to the commune to declare that it had no intention to cramp reli-
gious liberty, and meant not to deprive the professors of any religion of the
right to meet in places paid for by them, and maintained at their cost. " Let
it not be alleged," said he, " that it is weakness or policy that actuates me.
I am equally incapable of the one and the other. It is the conviction that our
enemies would fain abuse our zeal, to urge it beyond bounds, and to hurry
us into false steps ; it is the conviction that, if we prevent the Catholics from
exercising their worship publicly, and with the permission of the law, bilious
wretches will go and- inflame their imaginations, or conspire in caverns. It
is this conviction alone that inspires me and induces me to speak." The
resolution proposed by Chaumette, and strongly seconded by Pache, the
mayor, was at length adopted, with some murmurs, which were soon drown-
ed by general applause. The Convention declared, on its part, that it had
never intended by its decrees to shackle religious liberty, and it forbade the
plate still remaining in the churches to be touched, since the exchequer had
no further need of that kind of aid. From that day, the indecent farces per-
formed by the people ceased in Paris, and the ceremonies of the worship of
Reason, which had afforded them so much amusement, were abolished.
Amidst this great confusion, the committee of public welfare felt more
keenly every day the necessity of giving increased vigour and promptness,
and enforcing more ready obedience, to the supreme authority. From day
to day, the experience of obstacles rendered it more skilful, and it kept add-
ing fresh pieces to that revolutionary machine created for the duration of the
war. It had already prevented the transfer of power to new and inexperi-
enced hands, by proroguing the Convention, and by declaring the government
revolutionary till the peace. At the same time, it had concentrated this power
in its hands, by making the revolutionary tribunal, the police, the military
operations, and the very distribution of the articles of consumption, depend-
ent on itself. Two months' experience had made it acquainted with the
obstacles by which the local authorities, either from excess or want of zeal,
clogged the action of the superior authority. The transmission of the de-
crees was frequently interrupted or delayed, and their promulgation neglected
in certain departments. There still remained many of those federalist ad-
ministrations which had risen in insurrection, and the power of coalescing
was not yet forbidden them. If, on the one hand, the departmental adminis-
trations exhibited some danger of federalism, the communes, on the other,
acting in a contrary spirit, exercised, after the example of that of Paris, a
vexatious authority, issued laws, and imposed taxes ; the revolutionary com-
mittees wielded an arbitrary and inquisitorial power against persons ; revolu-
tionary armies, instituted in different localities, completed these particular,
tyrannical, petty governments, disunited among themselves, and embarrass-
ing tq the superior government. Lasdy, the authority of the representatives,
added to all the others, increased the confusion of the sovereign powers, for
they imposed taxes and issued penal laws, like the communes and the Con-
vention itself.
Billaud- Varennes, in an ill-written but able report, detailed these incon-
veniences, and caused the decree of the 14th of Friraaire (Dec. 4), to be a
model for a provisional, energetic, and absolute government. Anarchy, said
thf reporter, threatens republics at their birth and in their old age. Let us
382 HISTORY OF THE
endeavour to secure ourselves from it. This decree instituted the Bulk tin
des Lois, an admirable invention, the idea of which was perfectly new ; for
the laws, sent by the Assembly to the ministers, and by the ministers to the
local authorities, without any fixed term, without minutes to guarantee their
transmission or their arrival, were frequently issued a long time before they
were either promulgated or known. According to the new decree, a com-
mission, a printing-office, and a particular kind of paper, were exclusively
devoted to the printing and circulation of the laws. The commission, com-
posed of four persons, independent of all authority, free from all other duties,
received the law, caused it to be printed, and sent it by post within fixed and
invariable terms. The transmission and the delivery were ascertained by
the ordinary means of the post ; and these movements, thus reduced to a
regular system, became infallible. The Convention was afterwards declared
the central point of the government. Under these words was disguised the
sovereignty of the committees, which did everything for the Convention.
The departmental authorities were in some measure abolished ; all their poli-
tical privileges were taken from them, and the only duties left to them, as to
the department of Paris on the occasion of the 10th of August, consisted in
the assessment of the contributions, the maintenance of the roads, and the
superintendence of purely economical matters. Thus these intermediate and
too powerful agents between the people and the supreme authority were sup-
pressed. The district and communal administrations alone were suffered to
exist, with all their privileges. Every local administration was forbidden to
unite itself with others ; to remove to a new place ; to send out agents, to
issue ordinances extending or admitting decrees, or to levy taxes on men.
All the revolutionary armies established in the departments were disbanded,
and there was to be left only the single revolutionary army established at
Paris for the service of the whole republic. The revolutionary committees
were obliged to correspond with the districts charged to watch them, and
with the committee of general safety. Those of Paris were allowed to cor-
respond only with the committee of general safety, and not with the com-
mune. Representatives were forbidden to levy taxes unless they were
approved by the Convention ; they were also forbidden to issue penal laws.
Thus all the authorities were brought back to their proper sphere. Any
conflict or coalition between them was rendered impossible. They received
the laws in an infallible manner. They could neither modify them nor defer
their execution. The two committees still retained their sway. That of
public welfare, besides its supremacy over that of general safety, continued
to have the diplomatic and the war departmen , and the universal superin-
tendence of all affairs. It alone could henceforward call itself committee of
public toelfare. No committee in the communes could assume that tide.
This new decree concerning the institution of the revolutionary govern-
ment, though restrictive of the authority of the communes, and even directed
against their abuse of power, was received in the commune of Paris with
-great demonstration of obedience. Chaumette, who affected docility as well
as patriotism, made a long speech in praise of the decree. By his awkward
eagerness to enter into the system of the supreme authority, he even drew
down a reprimand upon himself, and he had the art to disobey, in striving to
be too obedient. The new decree placed the revolutionary committees of
Paris in direct and exclusive communication with the committee of general
safety. In their fiery zeal, they had ventured to arrest people of all sorts.
It was alleged that a great number of patriots had been imprisoned by them,
and they were said to be filled with what began to be called ultra-revolu-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 383
tionisls. Chaumette complained to the council-general of their conduct, and
proposed to summon them before the commune, in order to give them a
severe admonition. Chaumette's motion was adopted. But with his osten-
tation of obedience, he had forgotten that, according to the new decree, the
revolutionary committees of Paris were to correspond with the committee of
general safety alone. The committee of public welfare, no more desiring an
exaggerated obedience than disobedience, not allowing, above all, the com-
mune to presume to give lessons, even good ones, to committees placed
under the superior authority, caused Chaumette's resolution to be annulled,
and the committees to be forbidden to meet at the commune. Chaumette
received this correction with perfect submission. " Every man," said he to
the commune, " is liable to error. I candidly confess that I was wrong. The
Convention has annulled my requisition and the resolution adopted on my
motion; it has done justice upon the fault which I committed; it is our
general mother; let us unite ourselves with it."
With such energy, the Committee was likely to succeed in putting a stop
to all the disorderly movements either of zeal or of resistance,* and to pro-
duce the greatest possible precision in the action of the government. The
ultra-revolutionists, compromised and repressed since the movement against
religion, received a new check, more severe than any that had preceded it.
Ronsin had returned from Lyons, whither he had accompanied Collot-d'Her-
bois with a detachment of the revolutionary army. He had arrived in Paris
at the moment when the report of the sanguinary executions committed in
Lyons had excited pity. Ronsin had caused a bill to be posted, which dis-
gusted the Convention. He there stated that, out of the one hundred and
forty thousand inhabitants of Lyons, fifteen hundred only were not implicated
in the rebellion, that before the end of Frimaire all the guilty would have
perished, and that the Rhone would have carried their bodies to Toulon.
Other atrocious expressions of his were mentioned. People talked a great
deal of the despotism of Vincent in the war-office, and of the conduct of his
ministerial agents in the provinces, and their rivalry with the representatives.
They repeated various expressions dropped by some of them, indicating a
design to cause the executive power to be constitutionally organized.
The energy which Robespierre and the committee had recently displayed
encouraged people to speak out against these agitators. In the sitting of the
27th of Frimaire, a beginning was made by complaints of certain revolu-
tionary committees. Lecointre denounced the arrest of a courier of the com-
mittee of public welfare by one of the agents of the ministry ; Boursault said
that, in passing through Longjumeau, he had been stopped by the commune,
that he had made known his quality of deputy, and that the commune never-
theless insisted that his passport should be legalized by the agent of the
* " In his well-known pamphlet entitled the ' Old Cordelier,' Camille-Desmoulins, under
the pretence of describing the state of Rome under the emperors, give* the following accurate
and spirited sketch of the despotism which subdued all France at this period : — ' Everything
under that terrible government was made the groundwork of suspicion. Does a citizen avoid
society, and live retired by his fireside 1 That is to ruminate in private on sinister designs.
It he rich ! That renders the danger the greater that he will corrupt the citizens by his
largesses. Is he poor 1 None so dangerous as those who have nothing to lose. Is he
thoughtful and melancholy ? He is revolving what he calls the calamities of his country.
Is he gay and dissipated ! He is concealing, like Ctesar, ambition under the mask of plea-
sure. The natural death of a celebrated man is become so rare, that historians transmit it as
a matter worthy of record, to future ages. Every day the accuser makes his triumphant entry
into the palace of Death, and reaps the rich harvest which is presented to his hands. The
tribunals, once the protectors of life and property, have become the mere organs of butchery.'
384 HISTORY OF THE
executive council then on the spot. Fabre d'Eglantine denounced Maillard,
the leader of the murderers of September, who had been sent to Bordeaux
by the executive council, and who was charged with a mission whilst he
ought to be expelled from every place ; he denounced Ronsin and his placard,
at which everybody had shuddered ; lastly, he denounced Vincent, who had
usurped the entire control of the war-office, and declared that he would blow
up the Convention, or force it to organize the executive power, as he was
determined not to be the valet of the committees. The Convention imme-
diately placed in a state of arrest Vincent, secretary-general at war, Ronsin,
general of the revolutionary army, Maillard, on a mission at Bordeau, three
agents of the executive power, whose conduct at St. Girons was complained
of, and lastly, one Mazuel, adjutant in the revolutionary army, who had said
that the Convention was conspiring, and that he would spit in the faces of
the deputies. The Convention then decreed the penalty of death against the
officers of the revolutionary armies illegally formed in the provinces, who
should not separate immediately ; and, lastly, it ordered the executive council
to come the following day to justify itself.
This act of energy was a severe mortification to the Cordeliers, and pro-
voked explanations at the Jacobins. The latter had not yet spoken out re-
specting Vincent and Ronsin, but they demanded an inquiry to ascertain the
nature of their misdemeanors. The executive council justified itself most
humbly to the Convention. It declared that it never intended to set itself up
as a rival to the national representation, and that the arrest of the courier,
and the difficulties experienced by Boursault, the deputy, were occasioned
solely by an order of the committee of public welfare itself, an order which
directed all passports and all despatches to be verified.
While Vincent and Ronsin were imprisoned as ultra-revolutionists, the
committee pursued severe measures against the party of the equivocals and
the stockjobbers. It placed under arrest Proly, Dubuisson, Desfieux, and
Pereyra, accused of being agents of the foreign powers and accomplices of
all the parties. Lastly, it ordered the four deputies, Bazire, Chabot, Delau-
nay of Angers, and Julien of Toulouse, accused of being moderates and of
having made sudden fortunes, to be apprehended in the middle of the night.
We have already seen the history of their clandestine association, and of
the forgery which had been the consequence of it. We have seen that Cha-
bot, already shaken, was preparing to denounce his colleagues, and to throw
the whole blame upon them. The reports circulated respecting his marriage,
and the denunciations which Hebert was daily repeating, completely intimi-
dated him, and he hastened to reveal the whole affair to Robespierre. He
pretended that he had entered into the plot with no other intention than that
of following and denouncing it. He attributed this plot to the foreign pow-
ers, which, he said, strove to corrupt the deputies in order to debase the
national representation, and which then employed Hebert and his accomplices
to defame them after they had corrupted them. Thus there were, according
to him, two branches in the conspiracy, the corrupting branch and the de-
famatory branch, which concerted together with a view to dishonour and to
dissolve the Convention. The participation of the foreign bankers in this
intrigue ; the language used by Julien and Delaunay, who said that the Con
vention would soon finish by devouring itself, and that it was right to make k
fortune as speedily as possible; and some intercourse between Hebert's
wife and the mistresses of Julien and Delaunay, served Chabot for the
groundwork of this fable of a conspiracy with two branches, in which the
corrupters and defamers were secretly leagued for the attainment of the same
object. Chabot had, however, some scruples left, and justified Bazire. A*
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 385
it was he himself, who had bribed Fabre, and should have incurred a denun-
ciation from the latter had he accused him, pretended that his overtures had
been rejected, and that the hundred thousand francs in assignats, suspended
by ■ thread in the privy, were the sum destined for Fabre and refused by him.
These fables of Chabot had no semblance of truth; for it would have been
much more natural, had he entered into the conspiracy for the purpose of
divulging it, to communicate it to some of the members of one or the other
committee, and to deposit the money in their hands. Robespierre sent Cha-
bot to the committee of general welfare, which gave orders in the night for
the arrest of the deputies already mentioned. Julien contrived to escape.
Bazire, Delaunay, and Chabot only were apprehended.
The discovery of this disgraceful intrigue caused a great sensation, and
confirmed all the calumnies which the parties levelled at each other. People
circulated, with more assurance than ever, the rumour of a foreign faction,
wliich bribed the patriots, and excited them to obstruct the march of the
Revolution, some by an unseasonable moderation, others by a wild exagge-
ration, by continued defamations, and by an odious profession of atheism.
And yet what reality was there in all these suppositions? On the one hand,
men less fanatic, more disposed to pity the vanquished, and for that very
reason more susceptible to the allurements of pleasure and corruption ; on the
other, men more violent and more blind, taking the lowest of the people for
their assistants, persecuting with their reproaches those who did not share
their fanatical insensibility, and profaning the ancient rites of religion with-
out reserve, without decency ; between these two parties bankers, taking ad-
vantage of every crisis to engage in stockjobbing speculations; four deputies
out of seven hundred and fifty, yielding to the influence of corruption, and
becoming the accomplices of these stockjobbers ; lastly, a few sincere revo-
lutionists, but foreigners, and suspected as such, compromising themselves
by that very exaggeration, by favour of which they hoped to cause their ori-
gin to be forgotten : — this it was that was real, and in this we find nothing
but what was very ordinary, nothing that justified the supposition of a pro-
found machination.
The committee of public welfare, anxious to place itself above the parties,
resolved to strike and to brand them all, and to this end it sought to show
that they were all accomplice? of the foreign foe. Robespierre had already
denounced a foreign faction, in the existence of which his mistrustful dispo-
sition led him to believe. The turbulent faction, thwarting the superior au-
thority and disgracing the revolution, was immediately accused of being the
accomplice of the foreign faction ;* but it made no such charge against the
moderate faction, nay it even defended the latter, as we have seen in the case
of Danton. If it still spared it, this was because it had thus far done nothing
that could obstruct the progress of the revolution, because it did not form a
numerous and obstinate party, like the old Girondins, and because it con-
sisted only of a few individuals who condemned the ultra-revolutionary
extravagances.
Such was the state of parties and the policy of the committee of public
welfare in regard to them in Frimaire, year 2 (December 1793). While it
exercised the authority with such vigour, and was engaged in completing the
interior of the machine of revolutionary power, it displayed not less energy
abroad, and insured the prosperity of the revolution by signal victories.
* " Hebert, the head of this turbulent and atrocious faction, is a miserable intriguer — a
caterer for the guillotine — a traitor paid by Pitt — a thief and robber who had been expelled
from his office of check-taker at a theatre for theft," — he Vieux Cordelier. E.
vol. u — 49 2 K
386 HISTORY OF THE
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
END OF THE CAMPAIGN OF 1T93— MANOEUVRE OF HOCHE IN THE
VOSGES— RETREAT OF THE AUSTRIANS AND PRUSSIANS— RAISING
OF THE BLOCKADE OF LANDAU— OPERATIONS OF THE ARMY OF
ITALY— SIEGE AND TAKING OF TOULON— LAST ENGAGEMENT AT
THE PYRENEES— EXCURSION OF THE VENDEANS BEYOND THE
LOIRE, AND THEIR DESTRUCTION AT SAVENAY.
The campaign terminated on all the frontiers in the most brilliant and suc-
cessful manner. In Belgium it had been at length deemed preferable to go
into winter-quarters, in despite of the plan of the committee of public welfare,
which had been anxious to profit by the victory of Watignies, to enclose the
enemy between the Scheldt and the Sambre. Thus at this point the aspect
of affairs had not changed, and the advantages of Watignies were still ours.
On the Rhine, the campaign had been gready prolonged by the loss of
the lines of Weissenburg on the 22d of Vendemiaire (Oct. 13). The com-
mittee of public welfare determined to recover them at any cost, and to raise
the blockade of Landau, as it had done that of Dunkirk and Maubeuge. The
state of our departments of the Rhine was a reason for losing no time in re-
moving the enemy from that quarter. The Vosges were singularly imbued
with the feudal spirit ; the priests and the nobles had there retained a power-
ful influence ; the French language being not much spoken, the new revolu-
tionary ideas had scarcely penetrated thither ; there were great numbers of
communes where the decrees of the Convention were unknown, where there
were no revolutionary committees, and in which the emigrants circulated
opinions with impunity. The nobles of Alsace had followed the army of
Wurmser in throngs, and were spread from Weissenburg to the environs of
Strasburg. A plot had been formed in the latter city for delivering it up to
Wurmser. The committee of public welfare immediately sent thither Lcbas
and St. Just, to exercise the ordinary dictatorship of commissioners of the
Convention. It appointed young Hoche, who had so eminently distinguished
himself at the siege of Dunkirk, to the command of the army of the Moselle ;
it detached a strong division from the idle army of the Ardennes, which was
divided between the two armies' of the Moselle and the Rhine ; lastly, it
caused levies en masse to be raised in all the contiguous departments, and
directed upon Besancon. These new levies occupied the fortresses, and the
garrisons were transferred to the line. At Strasburg, St. Just displayed the
utmost energy and intelligence. He struck terror into the ill-disposed, sent
those who were suspected of the design to betray Strasburg before a com-
mission, and thence to the scaffold. He communicated new vigour to the
generals and to the soldiers. He insisted on daily attacks along the whole
line, in order to exercise our raw conscripts. Equally brave and pitiless, he
exposed himself to the fire, and shared all the dangers of warfare. An
extraordinary enthusiasm seized the army; and the shout of the soldiers
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 387
who were inflamed with the hope of recovering the lost ground, was, " Lan-
dau or death !"
The proper manoeuvre to execute on this part of the frontiers would still
have been to unite the two armies of the Rhine and of the Moselle, and to
operate en masse on one of the slopes of the Vosges. For this purpose, it
would have been necessary to recover the passes which crossed the line of
the mountains, and which we had lost when Brunswick advanced to the
centre of the Vosges, and Wurmser to the walls of Strasburg. The plan
of the committee was formed, and it resolved to seize the chain itself, with a
view to separate the Austrians and the Prussians. Young Hoche, full of ar-
dour and talent, was charged with the execution of this plan, and his first
movements at the head of the army of the Moselle induced a hope of the
most decided results.
The Prussians, to give security to their position, had attempted to take by
surprise the castle of Bitche, situated in the very heart of the Vosges. This
attempt was thwarted by the vigilance of the garrison, which hastened in time
to the ramparts ; and Brunswick, whether he was disconcerted by this fail-
ure, whether he dreaded the activity and energy of Hoche, or whether he
was dissatisfied with Wurmser, with whom he was not on good terms, re-
tired first to Bisingen, on the line of the Erbach, and then to Kaiserslautern
in the centre of the Vosges. He had not given Wurmser notice of this
retrograde movement; and, while the latter was upon the eastern slope,
nearly as high as Strasburg, Brunswick, on the western, was beyond Weis-
senburg and nearly on a line with Landau. Hoche had followed Brunswick
very closely in his retrograde movement; and, after he had in vain attempted
to surround him at Bisingen and even to reach Kaiserslautern before him,
he formed the plan of attacking him at Kaiserslautern itself, in spite of the
difficulties presented by the position. Hoche had about thirty thousand
men. He fought on the 28th, 29th, and 30th of November, but the country
was imperfectly known and scarcely practicable. On the first day, General
Ambert, who commanded on the left, was engaged, while Hoche, with the
centre, was seeking his way. On the next, Hoche found himself alone op-
posed to the enemy, while Ambert had lost himself in the mountains. Owing
to the nature of the ground, to his force, and to the advantage of his position,
Brunswick was completely successful. He lost but about a dozen men :
Hoche was obliged to retire with the loss of about three thousand ; but he
was not disheartened, and proceeded to rally his troops at Pirmasens, Horn-
bach, and Deux-Ponts. Hoche,* though unfortunate, had nevertheless dis-
played a boldness and a resolution which struck the representatives of the
army. The committee of public welfare, which, since the accession of
Carnot, was enlightened enough to be just, and which was severe towards
want of zeal alone, wrote him the most encouraging letters, and for the first
time bestowed praise on a beaten general. Hoche, without being for a mo-
ment daunted by his defeat, immediately formed the resolution of joining the
army of the Rhine, with a view to overwhelm Wurmser. The latter, who
had remained in Alsace, while Brunswick had retired to Kaiserslautern, had
his right flank uncovered. Hoche directed General Taponnier with twelve
thousand men upon Werdt, to cut the line of the Vosges, and to throw him-
* " Hoche was a gallant man in every sense of the word ; but, though he distinguished
himself greatly in battle, he had not the good fortune to die there. He was deservedly esteemed
among the first of France's earlier generals before Bonaparte monopolized her triumphs," —
lard Byron. E.
388 HISTORY OF THE
self on the flank of Wurmser, while the army of the Rhine should make a
general attack upon the front of the latter.
Owing to the presence of St. Just, continual combats had taken place at
the end of November and the beginning of December between the army of
the Rhine and the Austrians. By going every day into the fire, it began to
be familiarized with war. Pichegru commanded it.* The corps sent by
Hoche into the Vosges had many difficulties to surmount in penetrating into
them, but it at length succeeded, and seriously alarmed Wurmser's right by
its presence. On the 22d of December (Nivose 2), Hoche marched across
the mountains, and appeared at Werdt, on the summit of the eastern slope.
He overwhelmed Wurmser's right, took many pieces of cannon, and a great
number of prisoners. The Austrians were then obliged to quit the line of
the Motter, and to move first to Sultz, and afterwards, on the 24th, to
senburg, on the very lines of the Lauter. The retreat was effected with
disorder and confusion. The emigrants and the Alsacian nobles who had
flocked to join Wurmser, fled with the utmost precipitation. The roads were
covered by whole families seeking to escape. The two armies, Prussian and
* " Charles Pichegru, a French general, was born in 1761, of a respectable though poor
family. In the year 1792 he was employed on the staff of the army of the Rhine, rose rapidly
through the ranks of general of brigade and of division, and, in 1793, assumed the chief com-
mand of that same army. He was the inventor of the system of sharp-shooting, of flying
artillery, and of attacks perpetually repeated, which rendered the enemy's cavalry almost
useless. In 1794 the army of the North was committed to Pichegru, who made a most
victorious campaign. In the following year the National Convention appointed him com-
mandant of Paris against the Terrorists, whose projects he succeeded in overthrowing. He
joined the army of the Rhine a short time after, when he testified a desire to re-establish the
house of Bourbon on the throne, which, coming to the knowledge of the Directory, they re-
called him, on which he retired to his native place, Arbois, where he spent several months
in domestic retirement In 1797 he was chosen president of the council of Five Hundred,
and became the hope of the Clichyan party. He was, however, arrested by the troops of the
directorial triumvirate, conveyed to the Temple, and condemned, together with fifty other
deputies, to be transported to Guiana. After some months' captivity in the pestilential deserts
of Sinnimari, Pichegru contrived to make his escape, and set sail for England, where he was
most warmly received. He then went to live in obscurity in Germany, but, in 1804, came
secretly to Paris with Georges and a great number of conspirators, to try to overturn the
consular government The plot being discovered, Pichegru was arrested and conducted to
the Temple, where he was one morning found dead in his bed. Several physicians who
met on the occasion asserted that he had strangled himself with his cravat." — Biographic
Moderne. E.
" Pichegru," observed Napoleon, " instructed me in mathematics at Brienne, when I was
about ten years old. He possessed considerable knowledge in that science. As a general,
he was a man of no ordinary talent far superior to Moreau, though he had never done any-
thing extraordinary, as the success of his campaigns in Holland was in a great measure
owing to the battle of Fluerus. Pichegru, after he had united himself to the Bourbons, sacri-
ficed the lives of upwards of twenty thousand of his soldiers, by throwing them purposely
into the enemy's hands, whom he had informed beforehand of his intentions." — A Voice
from St. Helena. E.
" Nature had made Pichegru a soldier. She had given him that eagle eye which fixes
victory on the field of battle, but she had denied him the qualities of a statesman. He was
a mere child in politics, and took it into his head to conspire openly, before the face of the
Directory, without once thinking that the Directors had it in their power to stop him. I
know, for certain, that among the conditions which he had made with the royal house was
this, that a statue should be erected to him in his lifetime as the restorer of the monarchy.
Louis XVIII. has faithfully executed this clause of the contract not, it is true, during the
general's life, but since his death. I have seen in the court of the Louvre this bronze with-
out glory. The legitimacy of a cause never removes the stain of treason." — Memoirs of a
Peer of France. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 389
Austrian, were dissatisfied with one another, and lent each other little assist-
ance against a foe full of ardour and enthusiasm.
The two armies of th« Rhine and the Moselle had joined. The repre-
sentatives gave the chief command to Hoche, and he immediately made dis-
positions for retaking Weissenburg. The Prussians and the Austrians, now
concentrated by their retrograde movement, were better able to support one
another if they pleased. They resolved therefore to take the offensive on
the 26th of December (6 Nivose), the very day on which the French gene-
r.il was preparing to rush upon them. The Prussians were in the Vosges
and around Weissenburg. The Austrians were spread, in advance of the
Lauter, from/ Weissenburg to the Rhine. Had they not been determined to
take the offensive, they would most assuredly not have received the attack
in advance of the lines and having the Lauter at their back ; but they had
resolved to attack first ; and the French, in advancing upon them, found
their advanced guards in march. General Dessaix, who commanded the
right of the army of the Rhine, marched upon Lauterburg ; General Mi-
chaud was directed upon Schleithal ; the centre attacked the Austrians,
drawn up on the Geisberg ; and the left penetrated into the Vosges to turn
the Prussians. Dessaix carried Lauterberg ; Michaud occupied Schleithal ;
and the centre driving in the Austrians, made them fall back from the Geis-
berg to WeiSsenburg itself. The occupation of Weissenberg was likely to
prove disastrous to the allies, and it was in imminent danger ; but Bruns-
wick, who was at Pigeonnier, hastened to this point, and kept the French in
check with great firmness. The retreat of the Austrians was then effected
with less disorder ; but next day the French occupied the lines of Weissen-
burg. The Austrians fell back upon Germersheim, the Prussians upon
Bergzabern. The French soldiers still advanced shouting, " Landau or
death !" The Austrians hastened to recross the Rhine, without attempting
to remain another day on the left bank, and without giving the Prussians
time to arrive from Mayence. The blockade of Landau was raised, and the
French took up their winter quarters in the Palatinate. Immediately after-
wards, the two allied generals attacked one another in contradictory state-
ments, and Brunswick sent his resignation to Frederick William. Thus, on
this part of the theatre of the war, we had gloriously recovered our frontiers,
in spite of the united forces of Prussia and Austria.
The army of Italy had undertaken nothing of importance, and, since its
defeat in the month of June, it had remained upon the defensive. In the
month of September, the Piedmontese, seeing Toulon attacked by the Eng-
lish, thought at length of profiting by this circumstance, which might occa-
sion the loss of the French army. The King of Sardinia repaired in person
to the theatre of war, and a general attack of the French camp was resolved
upon for the 8th of September. The surest way of operating against the
French would have been to occupy the line of the Var, which separated
Nice from their territory. In so doing, the enemy would have made him-
self master of all the positions which they had taken beyond the Var. He
would have obliged them to evacuate the county of Nice, and perhaps even
to lay down their arms. An immediate attack of their camp was preferred.
This attack, executed with detached corps, operating by several valleys at
once, was not successful ; and the King of Sardinia, dissatisfied with the
result, immediately retired to his own dominions. Nearly about the same
time the Austrian general, De Vins, at length thought of operating upon the
Var ; but he executed his movement with no more than three or four thou-
sand men, advanced no further than Isola, and, suddenly stopped by a slight
2k2
390 HISTORY OF THE
check, he again ascended the High Alps, without following up this attempt
Such had been the insignificant operations of the army of Italy.
A more serious interest fixed the whole attention on Toulon. That place,
occupied by the English and the Spaniards, secured to them a footing in the
South, and a position favourable for an attempt at invasion. It therefore
behoved France to recover Toulon as speedily as possible. The committee
had issued the most urgent orders on this point, but the means of siege were
utterly wanting. Carteaux, after reducing Marseilles, had debouched with
seven or eight thousand men by the gorges of Ollioules, had made himself
master of them after a slight action, and had established himself at the very
oudet of these gorges, in presence of Toulon. General Lapoype, detached
from the army of Italy with nearly four thousand men, had placed himself
on the opposite side to that on which Carteaux was, towards SolliOs ami
Lavalette. The two French corps thus posted, the one on the west, the
other on the east, were so far apart that they could scarcely perceive one an-
other, and could not lend each other any assistance. The besieged, with a
little more activity, might have attacked them singly, and overwhelmed them
one after another. Luckily, they thought of nothing but fortifying the place
and manning it with troops. They landed eight thousand Spaniards, Nea-
politans, and Piedmontese, and two English regiments from Gibraltar, and
thus raised the force of the garrison to fourteen or fifteen thousand men.
They strengthened all the defences, and armed all the forts, especially those
on the coasts, which protected the road where their squadrons lay at anchor.
They were particularly solicitous to render Fort Eguillette, situated at the
extremity of the promontory which encloses the inner or little road, inacces-
sible. So difficult did they make the approach to it, that it was called in the
army Little Gibraltar. The Marseillais, and all the people of Provence who
had taken refuge in Toulon, laboured themselves at the works, and mani-
fested the greatest zeal. The union, however, could not last in the interior
of the place, for the reaction against the Mountain had caused the revival of
all sorts of factions. There were republicans and royalists of all degrees.
The allies themselves did not agree.
The Spaniards were offended at the superiority affected by the English,
and harboured a distrust of their intentions. Lord Hood, taking advantage
of this disunion, said that, since they could not agree, it would be best for
the moment not to proclaim any authority. He even prevented the departure
of a deputation which the inhabitants would have sent to the Count de Pro-
vence, to induce that prince to come to their city in quality of regent. From
that moment it was easy to account for the conduct of the English, ind to
perceive how blind and how culpable those had been, who had delivered
Toulon to the most cruel enemies of the French navy.
The republicans could not hope, with such means as they then possessed,
to retake Toulon. The representatives even recommended that the army
should fall back beyond the Durance, and wait for the following season.
The reduction of Lyons, however, having placed fresh forces at their dispo-
sal, troops and mutrrirl were directed upon Toulon. General Dopp< •
whom was attributed the taking of Lyons, was appointed to supersede I
teaux. Doppet himself was soon displaced, and succeeded by Dugominier,*
* " Dugommier was a native of Martinique, in the West Indies, where he possessed a
large estate previously to the Revolution. He embraced the popular party, and, in 1793, was
employed as general of brigade, and, next, as commander-in-chief of the army of Italy. In
the same year he took Toulon, after a sanguinary contest. In 1794, after gaining several
victories, he was killed in battle at St. Sebastian." — Gorton's Biographical Dictionary. £.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 391
a very brave officer, and possessing much more experience. Twenty-eight or
thirty thousand men were collected, and orders were given to terminate the
siege before the conclusion of 4he campaign.
The French began by closely hemming in the place, and establishing bat-
teries against the forts. General Lapoype, detached from the army of Italy,
was still to the east, and Dugommier, the commander-in-chief, to the west,
in advance of Ollioules. The latter was charged with the principal attack.
The committee of public welfare had caused a regular plan of attack to be
drawn up by the committee of fortifications. The general summoned a
council of war to discuss the plan sent from Paris. This plan was ably
conceived, but there was one better adapted to circumstances, and which
could not fail to produce more speedy results.
In the council of war there was a young man who commanded the artil-
lery in the absence of the superior officer of that arm. His name was Bona-
parte, and he was a native of Corsica.* Faithful to France, in which he had
* "Napoleon Bonaparte was born at Ajaccio in Corsica, on the 15th of August. I7G9,
being the second of the five sons of Carlo Buonaparte, by Letitia Rarnolini (since so well
known as Madame Mere), a lady of great personal and mental attractions. Napoleon was
early sent to France and placed at the military school of Brienne, and thence in 1784 re-
moved to that of Paris, in quality of king's scholar. Here he distinguished himself by his
strong desire to excel in the mathematics and military exercises. He very honourably passed
his examination preparatory to being admitted into the artillery, of which he was appointed
a second lieutenant in 1785. After serving a short time, he quitted his regiment and retired
to Corsica, but returning to Paris in 1790, he became a captain in 1791 ; and at the siege
of Toulon in 1793, having the command of the artillery, his abilities began to develope them-
selves. He was soon after made general of brigade, and, supported by the patronage of Bar-
ras. was appointed to command the conventional troops at Paris, with which he defeated
those of the sections in the memorable struggle of the 5th of October, 1794. At the desire
of the officers and soldiers of the army of Italy, he was appointed to the command of that
army, and three days before his departure for Nice, in March, 1796, he married Josephine
Beauharnois, widow of the Count de Beauharnois, who suffered under Robespierre. The
army opposed to him consisted of 60,000 Austrians and Sardinians, commanded by the
Austrian general, Beaulieu. After several skirmishes he wholly outmanoeuvred the enemy,
and in the course of April won the battles of Montenotte, Millesimo, and Mondovi, which
obliged the King of Sardinia to sign a treaty in his own capital. On the 10th of May fol-
lowing he gained the battle of Lodi. This memorable campaign terminated in the treaty of
Leoben, the preliminaries of which were signed on the 16th of April, 1797. After making
some arrangements in regulation of the Cisalpine republic, which he had established at Milan,
Bonaparte signed the definitive treaty with the Austrians at Campo Formio, and returned to
Paris, where of course he was received with great respect and rejoicing. He was now no-
minated general-in-chief of an expedition against England, apparently a mere demonstration,
as that against Egypt was at this time in preparation. On the 19th of May, 1798, Bona-
parte sailed from Toulon with a fleet of thirteen ships of the line, as many frigates, and an
immense number of transports, with 40,000 troops on board, the flower of" the French army.
From this critical field of action, Bonaparte released himself with his usual decision and acti-
vity; having received information of the disasters experienced by the republican armies in
Italy and Germany, as also of the disordered state of parties in France, he took measures for
secretly embarking in August, 1799. and accompanied by a few officers entirely devoted to
him, he landed at Frejus in October following, and hastened to Paris. He immediately ad-
dressed a letter to the Directory, justifying the measures which he had pursued, and refXYIBg
to the censures on the Egyptian expedition. Courted by all parlies, and by Sieyes and li.ir-
ras, at that time the leading men of the government, the latter, who seems to have enter-
tained an idea of restoring the monarchy, confided his plan to Bonaparte, who, however, had
other objects in view. After many conferences with Sieyes and the leading members of the
council of Ancients, on whom he could rely, he disclosed his own projects, the consequence
of which was the removal of the sitting of the legislature to St. Cloud, and the devolvement
to Bonaparte of the command of the troops of every description in order to protect the na-
tional representation. On the 19th of November, the meeting accordingly took place at St
Cloud, when soldiers occupied all the avenues. The council of Ancients assembled in the
392 HISTORY OF THE
been educated, he fought in Corsica for the cause of the Convention against
Paoli and the English. He had then joined the array of Italy, and served
galleries ; and that of the Five Hundred, of whom Lucien Bonaparte was president, in the
orangery. Bonaparte entered into the council of Ancients, and made an animated speech in
defence of his own character, and called upon them to exert themselves in behalf of liberty
and equality. In the meantime a violent altercation took place in the council of Five Hun-
dred, where several members insisted upon knowing why the meeting had been removed to
St. Cloud. Lucien Bonaparte endeavoured to allay the rising storm, but the removal had
created great heat, and the cry was, ' Down with the dictator! No dictator !' At that mo-
ment Bonaparte himself entered, followed by four grenadiers, on which several of the mem-
bers exclaimed, ' What does this mean 1 No sabres here ! No armed men !' while others,
descending into the hall, collared him, exclaiming, ' Outlaw him, down with the dictator !'
On this rough treatment, General Lefebvre came to his assistance, and Bonaparte, retiring,
mounted his horse, and leaving Murat to observe what was going forward, sent a picket of
grenadiers into the hall. Protected by this force, Lucien Bonaparte declared that the repre-
sentatives who wished to assassinate his brother were in the pay of England, and proposed
a decree which was immediately adopted, " that General Bonaparte, and all those who had
seconded him, deserved well of their country: that the Directory was at an end ; and that
the executive power should be placed in the hands of three provisionary consuls, namely,
Bonaparte, Sieyes, and Roger Ducos." Such was the Cromwellian extinction of the French
Directory, which was followed by the constitution, called that of the year eight; in which
Bonaparte was confirmed first consul, and Cambaceres and Le Brun assistant consuls. The
same commission created a senate, a council of state, a tribunate, and a legislative body.
Leaving Paris in April, 1800, Bonaparte proceeded with a well appointed army for Italy,
passed the Great St. Bernard by an extraordinary march, and, bursting into that country like
a torrent, utterly defeated the Austrians under General Melas at Marengo, on the 14th of
the following June. This battle and that of Hohenlinden, enabled him a second time to
dictate terms of peace to Austria, the result of which was the treaty of Luneville with that
power, and ultimately that of Amiens with Great Britain, concluded in March, 1802. All
these successes advanced him another step in his now evident march to sovereignty, by secur-
ing him the consulate for life. The despair of the friends of the Bourbons at the increasing
progress of Bonaparte towards sovereign sway at this time produced an endeavour at pwiri
nation by the explosion of a machine filled with combustibles, as he passed in his carriage
through the Rue St. Nicaise, from which danger he very narowly escaped. This plan failing,
it as usual served the intended victim, by enabling him to execute and transport several per-
sonal enemies. Generals Pichegru and Moreau, Georges, the two Counts de Polignac, and
forty-three more were arrested, of whom Pichegru died in prison ; Georges and eleven more
suffered on the scaffold, and Moreau was exiled and departed for America. On the 2d of De-
cember, 1 804, Bonaparte was crowned emperor of France in the church of Notre Dame in
Paris, by the hands of Pope Pius VI. whom he obliged to come in person from Rome to per-
form the ceremony. He was immediately recognised by the Emperors of Austria and Rus-
sia, and the Kings of Prussia, Spain, and Denmark ; the King of Sweden alone refusing.
Great Britain being his sole enemy of magnitude, on the 7th of August he published a mani-
festo, announcing an invasion of England, and assembling a numerous flotilla at Boulogne,
formed in the neighbourhood a camp of 200,000 men. In less than six weeks the pretended
army of England was on the banks of the Danube, and the capitulation of General Mack at
Ulm was the rapid consequence. On the 1 1th of November, 1805, the French army entered
Vienna, which Francis II. had quitted a few days before, to retire with a remnant of his army
into Moravia, where the Emperor Alexander joined him with a Russian army, which he
commanded in person. Napoleon encountered the two emperors on the 2d of December, on
the plains of Austerlitz, where the great military talents of the French leader again prevailed,
and the treaty of Presburg followed ; which recognised him King of Italy, master of Venice,
of Tuscany, of Parma, of Placcntia, and of Genoa. Prussia also ceded the grand duchy of
Berg, which he gave to Murat. The electors of Bavaria, of Wirtemberg, and Saxony, were
transformed into kings : the crown of Naples was bestowed on his brother Joseph, that of
Holland on Louis, and that of Westphalia on Jerome; the republican Lucien ileclinii.
gift of this nature. In July, 1806, he ratified at Paris the famous treaty of the confederation
of the Rhine, in which he transferred to himself the preponderance previously enjoyed by the
house of Austria. In September following, a powerful Prussian army was got together, and
that wretched campaign ensued which ended in the decisive battle of Jena, fought on the
14th of October, 1806, the consequence of which defeat was more fatal than the defeat itself
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 393
before Toulon. He displayed extraordinary intelligence and extreme acti
vity, and slept by the side of his guns. This young officer, on surveying
The severe campaign against Russia succeeded, in which were fought the battles of Pultusk
and Friedland, and which ended in the treaty of Tilsit. Napoleon now turned his attention
to Spain, and affected to meet the king and his son Ferdinand at Bayonne, to adjust their
family differences. The result was the abdication of Charles IV., and the forced resignation
of Ferdinand. On the 25th of October, 1808, Napoleon announced that he intended to
crown his brother King of Spain at Madrid, and to plant the eagles of France on the towers
of Lisbon. The Spaniards nevertheless tenaciously, if not skilfully, resisted ; and Napoleon,
leaving the pursuit of the English army under Sir John Moore to Marshal Soult, returned to
Paris. Encouraged by the occupation of a large French army in Spain, Austria ventured a
third time to declare war against France ; on which Napoleon quitted Paris, and heading his
army, fought the battles of Landshut, Eckmuhl, Katisbonne, and Neumark, and once more
entered Vienna. The decisive victory of Wagram was gained on the 5th and 6th of July,
1809 ; on the 12th a suspension of arms was agreed upon, and, on the 14th of the ensuing
October, a definitive treaty of peace was concluded, one of the secret conditions of which soon
became apparent by preparations commencing for the dissolution of the marriage of the con-
queror with Josephine. On the 2d of April, 1810, Napoleon espoused the archduchess
Maria Louisa, daughter of the Emperor Francis II. Soon after this marriage, he united to
France the provinces situated on the left bank of the Rhine, and, by a decree of the 1 3th of
December in the same year, Holland, the three Hanseatic cities of Hamburg, Bremen, Lubec,
and a part of Westphalia, were added to the empire ; as also, by another decree, the Valais. In
March, 1811, a son was born to him, whom he called King of Rome. Aware of the discon-
tent of Russia, and of her intention to resist on the first favourable opportunity, towards the
end of the year 1811 he began those mighty preparations for the invasion of that empire,
which formed the nucleus of the greatest array of disciplined and able soldiery which ever
moved under one command and in one direction. In May, 1812, he left Paris to review the
grand army, made up of all his auxiliaries and confederates, willing and unwilling, assembled
on the Vistula, and, arriving at Dresden, spent fifteen days in that capital attended by the
Emperor of Austria, the King of Prussia, and nearly the whole of the princes of the continent,
among whom he moved the primum mobile and the centre. On the 10th of September the
famous battle of Borodino was fought, so fatal to both parties, and in which 60,000 men are
supposed to have perished. Napoleon, nevertheless, pressed on to Moscow, from which the
Russians retreated, as also the greater part of the inhabitants, who abandoned it by order of
the governor, Count Rostopchin. When, therefore, Napoleon entered the celebrated capital,
four days after the battle, he found it for the greater part deserted and in flames. After re-
maining thirty-five days in the ruins of this ancient metropolis, exposed to every species of
privation, retreat became necessary, and one of the most striking scenes of human suffering
was experienced by the retiring army ever produced by the extravagances of ambition.
Arriving at Warsaw on the 10th of December, on the 18th of the same month, Napoleon
entered Paris at night, and, on the following day, a bulletin disclosed his immense losses,
with no great concealment of their extent Early the next month he presented to the senate
a decree for levying 350,000 men, which was unanimously agreed to, and he forthwith be-
gan preparations to encounter the forces of Russia and Prussia, now once more in combina-
tion. On the 2d of May, 1813, he encountered the armies of these allies at Lutzen, and
forced them to retire, on which Austria undertook to mediate, but, not succeeding, the batUe
of Breutzen followed, in which the French were victorious. At length these contests termi-
nated in the famous battle of Leipsic, fought on the 16th, 18th and 19th of October, which
was decisive of the war as to Germany. Napoleon returned to Paris, and interrupted the
compliment of address, by stating the fact, that ' within the last year all Europe marched
with us, now all Europe is leagued against us.' He followed up this avowal by another de-
mand of 300,000 men. The levy was granted, and on the 26th of January, 1814, he again
headed his army, and, the allies having passed the Rhine early in the same month, in the suc-
ceeding February were fought the battles of Dizier, Brienne, Champ Aubert, and Montmi-
rail, with various successes; but now the advanced guard of the Russians entered into action,
and Napoleon was called to another quarter. The sanguinary conflicts of Montereau and
Nogent followed, in which the allied forces suffered very severely, and were obliged to retire
upon Troyes. At length, however, their extensive array bore on so many points, that, on
the French being driven back on the barriers of Paris, Marshal Marmont, who commanded
there, sent a flag of truce, and proposed to deliver up the city. Napoleon hastened from
Fontainebleau, but was apprized five leagues from Paris of the result He accordingly re-
vol. ii. — 50
394 HISTORY OF THE
the place, was struck with an idea, which he communicated to the council
of war. Fort Eguillette, called Little Gibraltar, closed the road where the
allied squadrons were moored. If this fort were taken, the squadrons could
no longer lie in the road without running the risk of being burned ; neither
could they evacuate it and leave behind a garrison of fifteen thousand men,
without communication, without succour, without any other prospect than
that of being obliged, sooner or later, to lay down their arms. There was,
therefore, every reason to presume that if Fort Eguillette were once in the
possession of the republicans, the squadrons and the garrison would evani-
ate Toulon. Thus the key of the place was Fort Eguillette, but it was
almost impregnable. Young Bonaparte strongly supported this idea as best
adapted to circumstances, and at length caused it to be adopted.
The French began by hemming in the place more closely than ever.
Bonaparte, favoured by a few /olive-trees, which masked his artillerymen,
placed a battery very near Fort Malbosquet, one of the most important of
those surrounding Toulon. One morning, this battery suddenly opened and
surprised the besieged, who did not conceive it possible to place guns so
near to the fort. The English general, O'Hara, who commanded the garri-
son, resolved to make a sortie for the purpose of destroying the battery and
spiking the guns. On the 30th of November (10 Frimaire) he sallied forth
at the head of six thousand men, penetrated unawares to the republican posts,
gained possession of the battery, and immediately began to spike the guns.
Fortunately, young Bonaparte was not far off with a battalion. A trench
turned to Fontainebleau, where he commanded an army of 50,000 men, and the negotia-
tion ensued, which terminated in his consignment to the island of Elba, with the title of
ex-emperor, and a pension of two millions of livres. It is unnecessary to detail the events of
his brief residence in this island, in which he was visited by many curious Englishmen and
others. It is probable that he never meant to remain in that equivocal situation, or the allies
to allow him. Be this as it may, secretly embarking in some hired feluccas, accompanied
with about 1200 men, on the night of the 25th of February, 1815, he landed on the 1st of
March, in the gulf of Juan, in Provence, at three o'clock in the afternoon. He immediately
issued a proclamation, announcing his intention to resume his crown, of which ' treason had
robbed him,' and, proceeding to Grenoble, was at once welcomed by the commanding officer
Labedoyere, and two days afterwards he entered Lyons, where he experienced a similar recep-
tion. Thus received and favoured, he reached Paris on the 20th of March without drawing
a sword. In the capital he was received with loud acclamations of ' Vive Pcmpereur!' and
was joined by Marshal Ney and the Generals Drouet, Lallemand, and Lcfebvre. On the
18th of June, occurred the signal and well-known victory of Waterloo. Napoleon immedi-
ately returned to Paris, but the charm was now utterly dissolved ; and he resigned himself. <m
the 15th of July, into the hands of Captain Maitland.of theBellerophon then lying at Rochfort,
and was exceedingly anxious to land in England. It is impossible to dwell on the minutis
of his conduct and reception, or on the circumstances attendant on his consignment for safe
custody to Sl Helena, by the joint determination of the allies. For this his final destination
he sailed on the 11th of August, 1815, and arrived at St Helena on the 13th of the follow-
ing October. It appears probable that mental affliction, added to unhealthy climate, began
to operate fatally on the constitution of Bonaparte from the hour of his arrival ! as nearly the
whole of the four years and upwards, while he remained there, he was sickly and diseased.
His ultimate complaint was a cancer in his breast, apparently a disease to which he had a
constitutional tendency, as his father died of a similar malady. He bore the excruciating
torture of his disorder, for six weeks, with great firmness, generally keeping his eyes fixed
on a portrait of his son, which was placed near his bed. From the beginning he refused
medicine as useless ; and the last words, uttered in a state of delirium, on the morning of
his death, were ' Mon fds !' soon afterwards, ' t£tc d'armee !' and lastly, ' France.' This
event took place on the 5th of May, 1821, in the fifty-second year of his age. He was in-
terred, according to his own desire, near some willow-trees and a spring of water, at a placo
called Haine's Valley, his funeral being attended by the highest military honours." — Got •
ton's Biographical Dictionary. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 395
led to the battery. Bonaparte threw himself into it with his battalion, ad-
vaiireil without noise among the English, then all at once gave the order to
fire, and threw them, by his sudden appearance, into the greatest surprise.
General O'Hara, in astonishment, imagined that it was his own soldiers who
were firing, in mistake, upon one another. He then advanced towards the
republicans, to ascertain if that were not the case, but was wounded in the
hand, ami taken in the trench itself by a sergeant. At the same moment,
Dugommier, who had ordered the generate to be beaten in the camp, brought
up his soldiers to the attack, and pushed on between the battery and the city.
The English, finding themselves in danger qf being cut off, then retired,
after losing their general, and failing to rid themselves of this dangerous
battery.
This success singularly encouraged the besiegers, and, in a like degree,
dispirited the besieged. So great were the apprehensions of the latter", that they
said that General O'Hara had purposely suffered himself to be taken, to sell
Toulon to the republicans. Meanwhile the republicans, who were deter-
mined to conquer the place, and who had the means of purchasing it, pre-
pared for the extremely perilous attack of the Eguillette. They had thrown
into it a great number of bombs, and strove to demolish its defences with
twenty-four pounders. On the 18th of December (28 Frimaire) it was re-
solved to make the assault at midnight. A simultaneous attack was to be
made by General Lapoype on Fort Faron. At midnight, while a tremen-
dous storm was raging, the republicans set themselves in motion. The sol-
diers who guarded the fort kept themselves in general out of sight, in order
to screen themselves from the bombs and balls. The French hoped to reach
it unperceived, but, at the foot of the height, they found some of the enemy's
riflemen. An action commenced. On the report of the musketry, the gar-
rison of the fort ran to the ramparts and fired upon the assailants, who alter-
nately fell back and advanced. A young captain of artillery, named Muiron,
taking advantage of the inequalities of the ground, succeeded in ascending
the height without losing many of his men. On reaching the foot of the
fort, he got in by an embrasure. The soldiers followed him, penetrated into
the battery, made themselves masters of the guns, and, in a short time, of the
fort itself.
In this action General Dugommier, the representatives Salicetti,* and
Robespierre the younger, and Bonaparte, the commandant of artillery, had
been present in the fire, and communicated the greatest courage to the troops.
On the part of General Lapoype the attack had not been so successful,
though one of the redoubts of Fort Faron had been carried.
As soon as Fort Eguillette was occupied, the republicans lost no time in
disposing the guns so as to play upon the ships. But the English did not
wait till they had completed their preparations. They immediately resolved
to evacuate the place, that they might no longer run the risks of a difficult
and perilous defence. Before they withdrew, they determined to burn the
arsenal, the dock yard, and all the ships that they could not take away. On
the 18th and 19th, without apprizing the Spanish admiral, without forewam-
* " I never liked Salicetti. There was something about him which to me was always
repulsive. When I read the story of the Vampire, I associated that ideal character with the
• lion of Salicetti. His pale, jaundiced complexion — his dark, glaring eyes — his lips,
which turned deadly white whenever he was agitated by any powerful emotion — all seemed
present to me. On one memorable occasion his face became so frightfully pallid, and his
whole appearance — it was when he was under the fear of arrest — affected me to such a de-
gree, that it haunted me in dreams a long time after." — Duchess (TAbrantes. E.
396 HISTORY OF THE
ing the compromised inhabitants that they were about to be delivered up to
the victorious Mountaineers, orders were issued for the evacuation. Every
English ship came in turn to the arsenal to supply herself with such stores
as she was in want of. The forts were then all evacuated, excepting Fort
Lamalgue, which was to be abandoned the last.
This evacuation was effected with such despatch, that the Spaniards, ap-
prized of it too late, were left outside the walls and escaped only by a mira-
cle. Lastly, orders were given to set fire to the arsenal. Twenty ships of
the line and frigates suddenly appeared in flames in the midst of the road,
and excited despair in the unfortunate inhabitants and indignation in the re-
publicans, who saw the squadron burning without having the power to save
it. Presently, more than twenty thousand persons, men, women, and child-
ren, carrying their most valuable effects, poured upon the quays, extending
their hands towards the squadrons, and imploring an asylum to screen them
from the victorious army. These were all the Prove^al families who had
committed themselves in the sectionary movement at Aix, Marseilles, and
Toulon. Not a single boat put off to the succour of these imprudent French,
who had placed their confidence in foreigners, and delivered up to them the
principal seaport of their country. Admiral Langara, however, with more
humanity, ordered out his boats, and received on board the Spanish squadron
all the fugitives that they could bring away. Lord Hood dared not resist
this example and the imprecations that were poured forth against him. He
issued orders, in his turn, but very late, that the people of Toulon should be
received on board his squadron. Those unfortunate creatures hurried with
fury into the boats. In this confusion, some fell into the sea, others were
separated from their families. Mothers might be seen looking for their
children, wives, daughters, seeking their husbands or their fathers, and wan-
dering upon the quays by the light of the conflagration. At this dreadful
moment, thieves, taking advantage of the confusion to plunder, rushed
among the unhappy wretches crowded together upon the quays, and fired,
shouting, " Here are the republicans 1" Terror seized the multitude. Hur-
rying away pell-mell, it left its property to the villains, the contrivers of this
stratagem.
At length the republicans entered, and found the city half deserted and
great part of the naval stores destroyed. Fortunately, the galley-slaves had
extinguished the fire, and prevented it from spreading. Out of fifty-.- :
of the line and frigates, only seven ships and eleven frigates remained. The
others had been carried off or burned by the English. The horrors of the
siege and of the evacuation were soon succeeded by those of revolutionary
vengeance. We shall relate in another place the sequel of the disaster! of
this guilty and unfortunate city. The taking of Toulon* caused extraordi-
• The following is Bonaparte's own account of this memorable siege, dictated at St. Hele-
na : ' The commandant of artillery (Napoleon), who, for the space of a month, had been
carefully reconnoitering the ground, proposed the plan of attack which occasioned the reduc-
tion of Toulon. He declared that it was not necessary to march against the place, but only
to occupy a certain position which was to be found at the extreme point of the promontory
of Balaguier and l'Eguillette. If the general-in-chicf would occupy this position with three
battalions, he would take Toulon in four days. In conformity with this proposal, the French
raised live or six batteries against the position, which was called ' Little Gibraltar,' and con-
structed platforms for fifteen mortars. A battery had also been raised of eight twenty-four
pounders, and four mortars against Fort Malbosquet. The enemy were every day r<
reinforcements ; and the public watched with anxiety the progress of the siege. They could
not conceive why every effort should be directed against Little Gibraltar, quite in an opposite
direction to the town. All the popular societies made denunciation after denunciation on
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 397
nary joy, and produced as strong an impression as the victories of Watig-
nies, the reduction of Lyons, and the raising of the blockade of Landau
Thenceforward there was no reason to apprehend that the English, support-
ing themselves on Toulon, would again produce devastation and rebellion in
the South.
The campaign had terminated less successfully in the Pyrenees. Still,
notwithstanding numerous reverses, and great want of skill on the part of
the generals, we had lost nothing but the line of the Tech, and still retained
that of the Tet. After the unfortunate action at Truillas, on the 22d of Sep-
tember (1 Vendmiaire), against the Spanish camp, in which Dagobert had
displayed such coolness and intrepidity, Ricardos, instead of marching for-
ward, had fallen back upon the Tech. The retaking of Villefranche, and a
reinforcement of fifteen thousand men received by the republicans, had de-
cided him to this retrograde movement. He had raised the blockade of
Collioure and Port-Vendre, proceeded to the camp of Boulon, between Ceret
and Ville Longue, and secured his communications by guarding the high-
this subject. Dugommier accordingly determined — his plans having been completed — that
a decisive attack should be made on Little Gibraltar. The commandant of artillery, in con-
sequence, threw seven or eight thousand shells into the fort, while thirty twenty-four
pounders battered the works. On the 18th of December, at four in the afternoon, the troops
left their camp and marched towards the village of Seine. The plan was, to attack at mid-
night, in order to avoid the fire of the forts and immediate redoubts. The allied troops, to
avoid the effect of the shells and balls which showered upon the fort, were accustomed to oc-
cupy a station at a small distance in the rear of it The French had great hopes of reaching
the works before them ; but the enemy had placed a line of skirmishers in front of the fort ;
and, as the musketry commenced firing at the very foot of the hill, the allied troops hastened
to the defence of the fort, whence a brisk fire was immediately opened. Caseshot showered
all around. At length, after a most furious attack, Dugommier, who headed the leading
column, was obliged to give way, and, in the utmost despair, he cried out, ' I am a lost man '.'
Success was, indeed, indispensable in those days, as the want of it conducted the unfortunate
general to the scaffold. The cannonading and musketry continued. Captain Muiron, of
the artillery, a young man full of bravery and resources, was detached with a battalion of
light infantry, and supported by the second column, which followed them at the distance of
a musket-shot He was perfectly acquainted with the position, and availed himself so well
of the windings of the ascent, that he conducted his troops up without sustaining any loss.
He debouched at the foot of the fort — rushed through an embrasure — his soldiers followed
him — and the fort was taken. As soon as they were masters of the position, the French
turned the cannon against the enemy, and, at day-break, marched on Balaguier and l'Eguil-
lette ; but the enemy had already evacuated those positions, which Lord Hood was no sooner
informed of, than he made signal to weigh anchor and get out of the roads. He then went
to Toulon, to make it known that there was not a moment to be lost in getting out to sea.
The weather was dark and cloudy, and everything announced the approach of the south-west
wind, so terrible at this season. The council of the combined forces met and unanimously
agreed that Toulon was no longer tenable. They accordingly proceeded to take measures
as well for the embarkation of the troops, as for destroying such French vessels as they could
not carry away with them, and firing the marine establishments. They likewise gave notice
to all the inhabitants, that those who wished to leave the place might embark on board the
English and Spanish fleets. In the night the Fort Pone was blown up by the English, and,
an hour afterwards part of the French squadron was set on fire. Nine 74-gun ships, and
four frigates or corvettes, fell a prey to the flames. The fire and smoke from the arsenal re-
sembled the eruption of a volcano, and the thirteen vessels which were burning in the road,
were like so many magnificent displays of fireworks. The masts and forms of the vessels
were distinctly marked by the blaze, which lasted many hours, and formed an unparallelled
spectacle. During all this time the batteries of l'Eguillette and Balaguier kept up an inces-
sant fire on the vessels in the roads. Many of the English ships were much damaged, and
a great number of transports, with troops on board, were sunk. Thousands of the Toulon-
nese had followed the English, so that the revolutionary tribunal found but few of the
guilty in the place. Nevertheless, above a hundred unfortunate wretches were shot within
the first fortnight" E.
2L
398 HISTORY OF THE
road to Bellegarde. The representatives, Fabre and Gaston, full of fire,
insisted on attacking the camp of the Spaniards, in order to drive them be-
yond the Pyrenees ; but the attack was unsuccessful, and ended only in a
useless effusion of blood.
Fabre, impatient to attempt an important enterprise, had long meditated a
march to the other side of the Pyrenees, with a view to force the Spaniards
to retreat. He had been persuaded that the fort of Roses might be taken by
a coup de main. At his desire, and contrary to the opinion of the generals,
three columns were pushed beyond the Pyrenees, with orders to unite at
Espola. But, too weak, too far apart, they could not join one another, were
beaten, and driven back upon the great chain, after sustaining a considerable
loss. This happened in October. In November, thunder-storms, unusual
at that season, swelled the torrents, interrupted the communications of the
different Spanish camps with one another, and placed them in the greatest
danger.
This was the time for revenging ourselves upon the Spaniards for the re-
verses which we had experienced. They had no other means left for
recrossing the Tech but the bridge of Ceret, and they were left, inundated
and famished, on the left bank at the mercy of the French. But nothing
that ought to have been done, was done. General Dagobert had been suc-
ceeded by General Terreau, and the latter by General Doppet. The army
was disorganized. It fought faintly in the environs of Ceret. It lost even
the camp of St. Ferreol, and Ricardos escaped the dangers of his posi-
tion. It was not long before he revenged himself much more ably for the
danger in which he had been involved, and rushed on the 7th of November
(17 Brumaire) on a French column, which was cooped up at Ville Longue,
on the right bank of the Tech, between that river, the sea, and the Pyrenees.
He defeated this column, ten thousand strong, and threw it into such disor-
der that it could not rally before it reached Argeles. Immediately after-
wards, Ricardos ordered Delatre's division to be attacked at Collioure, took
possession of Collioure, Port-Vendre, and St. Elme, and drove us com-
pletely beyond the Tech. Thus finished the campaign towards the end of
December. The Spaniards took up their winter-quarters on the banks of
the Tech. The French encamped around Perpignan and on the banks of
the Tet. We had lost some ground, but less than might have been appre-
hended, after the disasters which we had sustained. It was, at any rate, the
only frontier on which the- campaign had not terminated gloriously for the
arms of the republic. At the western Pyrenees a reciprocal defensive had
been maintained. ,
In La Vendee, new and terrible battles had been fought, with great advan-
tage to the republic, but with great injury to France, which there beheld
Frenchmen arrayed against and slaughtering one another.
The Vendeans, beaten at Cholet on the 17th of October (26 Vendemiaire),
had thrown themselves upon the bank of the Loire, to the number of eighty
thousand persons, men, women, and children. Not daring to return to their
country occupied by the republicans, and unable to keep the field in the pre-
sence of a victorious army, they thought of proceeding to Bretagne. md
following up the ideas of Bonchamps, when that young hero was dead and
could no longer direct their melancholy destinies. We have seen that, the
day before the battle of Cholet, he sent a detachment to occupy the po*1 of
Varade on the Loire. That post, ncgligenUy guarded by the republican*,
was taken in the night between the 16th and 17th. The batde being lost,
the Vendeans were then able to cross the river unmolested, by means of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 399
some boats left on the bank, and out of reach of the republican cannon. The
danger having been hitherto on the left bank, the government had not thought
of defending the right bank. All the towns in Bretagne were ill-guarded.
Boom detacbmente of the national guard, dispersed here and there, were inca-
pable of checking the progress of the Vendeans, and could only retreat on
then approach. The latter advanced, therefore, without impediment, and
arrived successively at Cande\ Chateau-Gonthier, and Laval, without encoun-
tering any resistance.
Meanwhile, the republican army was uncertain of their course, their num-
ber, and their plans ; nay, for a moment, it had believed that they were de-
stroyed, and so the representatives had written to the Convention. fKleber
alone, who still commanded the army in the name of L'Echelle, had held a
contrary opinion, and endeavoured to moderate a dangerous security. It was
not long, in fact, before intelligence was received that the Vendeans were far
from being exterminated, that in the fugitive column there was still left thirty
or forty thousand armed men, capable of fighting. A council of war was
immediately held, and, as it was not known whether the fugitives intended
to proceed towards Angers or Nantes, to march for Bretagne, or to make for
the Lower Loire to join Charette, it was resolved that the army should divide,
and that one part under General Haxo should keep Charette in check and
retake Noirmoutiers ; that another division under Kleber should occupy the
camp of St. George near Nantes ; and that the rest should remain at Angers,
to cover that town and to observe the march of the enemy.
Had^ the republican generals been better informed, they would no doubt
have continued together, and marched without intermission in pursuit of the
Vendeans. In the state of disorder and dismay in which they were, it would
have been easy to disperse and entirely destroy them ; but the direction
which they had taken was not known, and, amidst this doubt, the course
pursued was, after all, the wisest. Precise intelligence, however, soon
arrived, and it was learned that the Vendeans had marched upon Cande,
Chateau-Gonthier, and Laval. It was then resolved to pursue them imme-
diately, and to overtake them before they could inflame Bretagne, and make
themselves masters of any great town or seaport. Generals Vimeux and
Haxo were left at Nantes and in Lower Vendee : all the rest of the army
proceeded towards Cande and Chateau-Gonthier. Westermann and Beaupuy
formed the advanced guard ; Chalbos, Kleber, and Canuel, each commanded
a division ; and L'Echelle, keeping at a distance from the field of battle, left
the operations to be directed by Kleber, who enjoyed the confidence and
the admiration of the army.
In the evening of the 25th of October (4 Brumaire), the republican advanced
guard arrived at Chateau-Gonthier. The main body was a day's march be-
hind. Westermann, though his troops were extremely fatigued, though it
was almost dark, and he was yet six leagues from Laval, determined to march
thither immediately. Beaupuy, quite as brave but more prudent than West-
ermann, strove in vain to convince him of the danger of attacking the Ven-
dean mass in the middle of the night, so far in advance of the main body of
the army, and with troops harassed by fatigue. Beaupuy was obliged to
give way to the senior in command. They commenced their march without
delay. Arriving in the middle of the night at Laval, Westermann sent an
officer to reconnoitre the enemy : the latter, hurried away by his ardour,
made a charge instead of a reconnaissance, and quickly drove in the first
posts. The alarm was given in Laval, the tocsin rang, the whole hostile
mass was presently astir, and came to make head against the republicans.
400 HISTORY OF THE
Beaupuy, behaving with his usual firmness, courageously sustained the attack
of the Vendeans. Westermann displayed all his intrepidity. The combat
was one of the most obstinate, and the darkness of the night rendered it still
more sanguinary.* The republican advanced guard, though very inferior in
number, would nevertheless have maintained its ground to the last, had not
Westermann's cavalry, which was not always as brave as its commander,
suddenly dispersed, and obliged him to retreat. Owing to the efforts of
Beaupuy, the retreat was effected upon Chateau-Gonthier in tolerable order.
The main body arrived there on the following day. Thus the whole army
was again collected on the 26th, the advanced guard exhausted by a useless
and destructive action, the main body fatigued by a long march, performed
without provisions, without shoes, and through the mud of autumn. West-
ermann and the representatives were for moving forward again. Kleber
strongly opposed this advice ; and, at his suggestion, it was decided not to
advance farther than Villiers, half-way between Chateau-Gonthier and
Laval.
The next point was to form a plan for the attack of Laval. This town is
seated on the Mayenne. To march direcdy by the left bank, which the
army occupied, would be imprudent, as was judiciously observed by a
highly-distinguished officer, Savary, who was perfectly acquainted with that
part of the country. It would be easy for the Vendeans to occupy the bridge
of Laval, and to maintain themselves there against all attacks. They might
then, while the republican army was uselessly crowded together on the left
bank, file along the right bank, cross the Mayenne in its rear, and attack it
unawares. He proposed, therefore, to divide the attack, and to throw part
of the army upon the right bank. On this side there would be no bridge to
cross, and the occupation of Laval would not present any obstacle. This
plan, approved by the generals, was adopted by L'Echelle. Next day,
however, L'Echelle, who sometimes threw off his nullity to commit blun-
ders, sent an order the most stupid and the most contrary to the course
agreed upon the day before. He directed that the army should march,
according to his favourite expression, majestically and en masse, upon
Laval, filing upon the left bank. Kleber and all the generals were indignant.
Nevertheless they were obliged to obey. Beaupuy advanced first ; Kleber
immediately followed. The whole Vendean army was deployed on the
heights of Entrames. Beaupuy attacked ; Kleber deployed on the right and
left of the road, so as to extend himself as much as possible. Sensible, how-
ever, of the disadvantage of this position, he sent to desire L'Echelle, to direct
Chalbos's division upon the enemy's flank, a movement which would have
shaken him. But this column, composed of those battalions formed at Or-
leans and Niort, which had so often run away, dispersed before they had
begun their march. L'Echelle was the first to scamper off at full gallop.
A full half -of the army, which was not engaged, fled with the utmost pre-
cipitation, with L'Echelle at its head, and ran to Chateau-Gonthier, and from
Chateau-Gonthier to Angers. The brave Mayencais, who had never yet
flinched, dispersed for the first time. The rout then became general. Beau-
• " The republicans supported an instant the shock of our army whose numbers and move-
ments were hidden by night, but they were soon turned, and the disorder became such, that
our people took cartridges from their caissons, and they from ours. This confusion was favour-
able to the Vendeans, who lost but few men, and killed a great many of the enemy. The
darkness was so great, that M. Keller gave his hand to a republican to help him out of a ditch,
thinking him one of us. The flashes of the cannon showed him at once the uniform, and —
he killed him!" — Memoirs of the Marchioness dt Larochejacquclein. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 401
puy, Kleber, Marceau, and Merlin and Terreau, the representatives, made
incredible but useless efforts to stop the fugitives.* Beaupuy received a ball
in the middle of the chest. On being carried into a hut, he cried, " Leave
me here, aud sbow my bloody shirt to my soldiers." The gallant Bloss,
who commanded the grenadiers, and was noted for extraordinary intrepidity,
fell at the head of them. At length, one part of the army halted at Lyon-
d'Angers ; the other fled to Angers itself. General indignation was excited
by the cowardly example set by L'Echelle, who had been the first to run
away. The soldiers murmured loudly. On the following day, during the
review, the small number of brave men who had stuck to their colours, and
these were the Mayencais, shouted, " Down with L'Echelle ! Kleber and
Dubayet for ever ! Let them give us back Dubayet !" L'Echelle, who
heard these shouts, conceived a stronger dislike than ever for the army of
Mayence, and for the generals whose bravery put him to shame. The
representatives, seeing that the soldiers would no longer obey L'Echelle,
resolved to suspend him, and offered the command to Kleber. The latter
refused it, because he was not fond of the situation of general-in-chief, an
everlasting butt to the representatives, to the minister, to the committee of
public welfare, and consented merely to direct the army in the name of an-
other. The command was therefore given to Chalbos, who was one of the
oldest generals in the army. L'Echelle, anticipating the resolution of the
representatives, resigned, saying that he was ill, and retired to Nantes, where
he died some time afterwards.
Kleber, seeing the army in a deplorable state, dispersed pardy at Angers
and partly at Lyon-d' Angers, proposed to assemble the whole of it at Angers
itself, then to allow it a few day's rest, to furnish it with shoes and clothes,
and to reorganize it in a complete manner. This suggestion was adopted,
and all the troops were collected at Angers. L'Echelle, on sending in his
resignation, had not failed to denounce the army of Mayence, and to attribute
to brave men a rout which was owing solely to his own cowardice. A distrust
had long been felt of that army, of its esprit de corps, of its attachment to its
generals, and of its opposition to the staff of Saumur. The recent shouts of
" Dubayet for ever ! Down with L'Echelle !" completely compromised it in
the opinion of the government. Accordingly, the committee of public wel-
fare soon issued an ordinance commanding that it should be dissolved and
* " The battle began at eleven o'clock in the morning. The republicans had two pieces
of cannon on a rising ground in front. M. StofHet, who was by the side of an emigrant,
6aid to him, ' You shall see how we take cannon.' At the same time he ordered M. Martin,
surgeon, to charge on the pieces with a dozen horsemen. Martin set off at a gallop. The
cannoniers were killed, and the two pieces carried away. They turned them immediately
against the republicans, and M. de la Marsonnierre was charged to point them. A spent ball
struck him so violently as to bury his shirt in his flesh. M. de Bange supplied his place.
This battery was important. It was exposed to the hottest fire of the enemy. M. de La-
rochejaquelein was almost continually with M. de Bange, making the pieces always advance
in front of the republicans, who were retreating. The drivers were so frightened that they
were obliged to whip them on. For a moment cartouches were wanting. M. de Royrand
galloped off for some. Coming back, a ball struck him on the head ; he died of his wound
some time after. The perseverance of this attack decided the success of the battle. The
repurohcans gave way, and fled in disorder to Chateau-Gonthier. They wanted to form again
in the town, and placed two cannon on the bridge to defend it. M. de Larochejaquelein, who
had pursued them briskly, said to his soldiers, ' What, my friends, shall the conquerors sleep
out of doors, and the conquered in the town V The Vendeans had never had so much ar-
dour. They rushed on the bridge, and the cannon were taken. The Mayencais tried a mo-
ment to resist They were overthrown, and our people entered Chateau-Gonthier." — Me-
moirs of the Marchioness de Larochejaquelein. E.
vol. ii. — 51 2 l 2
102 HISTORY OF THE
incorporated with the other corps. Kleber was charged with this operation.
Though this measure was taken against himself and his companions-in-arms,
he cheerfully obeyed, for he felt the danger of the spirit of rivalry and ani-
mosity which subsisted between the garrison of Mayence and the rest of the
troops, and he saw moreover a great advantage in forming good heads of
columns, which, skilfully distributed, might communicate their own energy
to the whole army.
During these transactions at Angers, the Vendeans, delivered at Laval
from the republicans, and seeing nothing that opposed their march, consi-
dered what course they had to pursue. Two, alike advantageous, presented
themselves. They had to choose between the extremity of Bretagne and that
of Normandy. In the farthest part of Bretagne, a strong spirit of fanaticism
had been excited by the priests and the nobles ; the population would receive
them with joy ; and the country, hilly and extremely intersected, would fur-
nish them with very easy means of resistance ; lastly, they would be on the
sea-coast and in communication with the English. The extremity of Nor-
mandy, or the peninsula of Cotentin, was rather more distant but much
easier to guard: for, by making themselves masters of Port-Beil and St. Cos-
me, they could close it completely. They would there find the important
town of Cherbourg, easily accessible to them on the land side, full of sup-
plies of all kinds, and above all, well adapted for communication with the
English. The road to Bretagne was guarded only by the army of Brest,
under Rossignol, consisting at most of five or six thousand men, and badly
organized. The road to Normandy was defended by the army of Cherbourg,
composed of levies en masse, ready to disperse at the first musket-shot, and
of a few thousand regular troops, which had not yet quitted Caen. Thus
neither of these two armies was to be dreaded by the Vendean force. With
a little celerity it would even be easy to avoid a meeting with them. But the
Vendeans were ignorant of the nature of the localities. They had not among
them a single officer who could tell them what Bretagne and Normandy
were, what were their military advantages and their fortresses. They con-
ceived, for instance, that Cherbourg was defended on the land side; they
were incapable of making haste, of gaining information during their march,
of executing anything, in short, with any degree of vigour and precision.
Their army, though numerous, was in a deplorable state. All the princi-
pal chiefs were either dead or wounded. Bonchamps had expired on the
left bank ; D'Elbee had been conveyed wounded to Noirmoutiers ; Lescure,
struck by a ball on the forehead, was drawn dying after the army.* Laroche-
Jaquelein alone was left, and to him the chief command had been assigned.
Stofflet commanded under him. The army, now obliged to move and to
• " We quitted Laval without having determined if we should go to Rennes. Stofflet, on
his own authority, took the road to Fougeres. In the evening we stopped at Mayenno ; the
next day we continued our disastrous journey. The army, after a skirmish, in which it suc-
ceeded, entered Ernec. We passed the night there. . I was overwhelmed with fatigue, so
threw myself on a mattress by Lescure. and went to sleep. During it, they perceived all at
once that the patient had lost his strength, and was dying. They put on blisters, hull an in-
stant after, he tost his speech. At one o'clock in the morning, sleep left me, and I passed
twelve hours in a state of distraction impossible to paint Toward noon we were forced to
continue our joor.iey. I got first into the carriage on the mattress by Lescure. Agatha was
on the other side. Our friends represented to mc that the surgeon would be mom umIuI
than I, and made me get out of the carriage, and put me on horseback. I saw nothing. I
hod lost all power of thinking. I distinguished no objects. I knew not what I felt. A dark
cloud, a frightful void, surrounded me. I will own that, finding on the road the bodies of
many republicans, a sort of involuntary rage made mc push on my horse, so aa to trample
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 403
abandon its own country, ought to have been organized ; but it inarched pell-
mell, like a mob, having the women, the children, and the wagons, in the
centre. In a regular army, the brave, the weak, the coward, are so dove-
tailed, as it were, that they must perforce hold together and mutually support
one another. A few courageous men are sufficient to impart their energy to
the whole mass. Here, on the contrary, no ranks were kept, no division
into companies, into battalions, was observed. Each marched where he
pleased, the bravest men had ranged themselves together and formed a corps
of five or six thousand, always ready to be the first to advance. Next to them
came a troop, consisting of those who were disposed to decide an advantage
by throwing themselves on the flanks of an enemy already broken. After
these two bands slowly followed that confused mass, which was ever ready
to run away on the firing of the first shot.
Thus the thirty or forty thousand armed men were reduced to a few thou-
sand brave fellows, who were always disposed to fight from temperament. The
want of subdivisions prevented them from forming detachments, directing a
corps to this or that point, or making any disposition whatever. Some fol-
lowed Laroche-Jacquelein, others Stofflet, and would follow nobody else.
It was impossible to give orders. All that could be obtained by the officers
was to get their people to follow at a given signal. Stofflet had merely
a few trusty peasants who went to communicate his directions to their com-
rades. They had scarcely two hundred wretched cavalry, and about thirty
pieces of cannon, ill-served and ill-kept. The baggage encumbered the
march : the women and the old men strove, for the sake of greater safety,
to burrow amidst the foremost troop of fighters, and filled their ranks and
embarrassed their movements. The men began to conceive a distrust of the
officers. They said that the latter were anxious to reach the coast only that
they might embark and abandon to their fate the unfortunate peasants whom
they had torn from their homes. The council, whose authority had become
absolutely illusory, was divided ; the priests were dissatisfied with the mili-
tary chiefs ; nothing, in short, would have been easier than to destroy such
an army, even if the utmost disorder of command had not prevailed among
the republicans.
The Vendeans were, therefore, incapable alike of conceiving and exe-
cuting any plan whatever. It was twenty-six days since they quitted the
Loire, and, in so long a space of time, they had done nothing at all. After
this prolonged indecision, they at last came to a determination. On the one
hand, they were told that Rennes and St. Malo were guarded by considerable
numbers of troops ; on the other, that Cherbourg was strongly defended on
the land side. They resolved, therefore, to besiege Granville, seated on the
coast between the point of Bretagne and that of Normandy. This plan had
the especial advantage of bringing them near to Normandy, which had been
described to them as extremely fertile, and abounding in provisions. They
marched, in consequence, upon Fougeres. Fifteen or sixteen thousand men
of the levy en masse had been collected upon the road which they were pur-
suing, but these dispersed without striking a blow. They reached Dol on
the 10th of November, and Avranches on the 12th.
under foot those who had killed Lescure ! In about an hour I heard some noise in the car-
riage, and sobs — I wanted to rush in. I suspected my misfortune, but they drew me off
and I dared not persist In reality, the lime when I had heard a noise in the carriage had
been the last of M. de Lescure. Agatha wished to get out, but thinking that I should then
know the worst, she had the courage to pass seven hours beside the dead body." — Memoirt
of the Marchioness de Larochsjaquelein. E.
404 HISTORY OF THE
On the 14th of November (24 Brumaire) they marched for Granville,
leaving half their men and all their baggage at Avranches. The garrison
having attempted to make a sortie, they repulsed it, and penetrated in pur-
suit of it into the suburb. The garrison had time to enter and to secure the
gates ; but the suburb was in their possession, and they had thus great facili-
ties for the attack. They advanced from the suburb to the palisades which
had recently been erected, and, without thinking of pulling them down, they
merely kept up a fire of musketry against the ramparts, whilst they were
answered with grape-shot and cannon-balls. At the same time they placed
some pieces on the surrounding heights, and fired to no purpose against the
top of the walls and on the houses of the town. At night they dispersed, and
left the suburb, where the fire of the place allowed them no rest. They
went beyond the reach of the cannon to seek lodgings, provisions, and,
above all, fire, for the weather began to be extremely cold. The chiefs
could scarcely retain a few hundred men in the suburb, to keep up a fire of
musketry from that quarter.
On the following day, their inability to take a walled town was still more
clearly demonstrated to them. They made another trial of their batteries,
but without success. They again opened a fire of musketry along the
palisades, but were soon completely disheartened. One of them all at once
conceived the idea of taking advantage of the ebb-tide to cross the beach,
and to attack the town on the side next to the harbour. They were pre-
paring for this new attempt, when the suburb was set on fire by the repre-
sentatives shut up in Granville. They were then obliged to evacuate it, and
to think of retreat. The proposed attempt on the side towards the s<
entirely relinquished, and on the following day they all returned to Avranches
to rejoin the rest of their force and the baggage. From this moment their
discouragement was extreme. They complained more bitterly than ever of
the chiefs who had torn them from their country and now wanted to abandon
them, and insisted, with loud shouts, on returning to the Loire. In vain
did Laroche-Jacquelein, at the head of the bravest of their force, make
a new attempt to lead them into Normandy : in vain did he march to
Ville-Dieu, which he took : he was followed by scarcely a thousand men.
The rest of the column, marching upon Pont-Orson, took the road through
Bretagne, by which it had come. It made itself master of the bridge at
Beaux, across the Selune; the possession of which was indispensable for
reaching Pont-Orson.
During these occurrences at Granville, the republican army had been
reorganized at Angers. Scarcely had the time necessary for giving it a
little rest and order elapsed, when it was conducted to Rennes, to be there
joined by six or seven thousand men of the Brest army, commanded by
Rossignol. There a council of war was held, and the measures to be taken
for continuing the pursuit of the Vendean column were determined upon.
Chalbos, being ill, had obtained permission to retire upon the rear, to recruit
his health ; and Rossignol had been invested by the representatives with the
chief command of the army of the West and that of Brest, forming a total
of twenty or twenty-one thousand men. It had been resolved that these
two armies should proceed forthwith to Antrain ; that General Tribout, who
was at Dol with three or four thousand men, should march to Pont-Orson ;
and that General Sepher, who had six thousand soldiers of the army of
Cherbourg, should follow the rear of the Vendean column. Thus, placed
between the sea, the post of Pont-Orson, and the army at Antrain and
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 405
Sephur, which was coming from Avranches, this column could not fail to be
enveloped and destroyed.
All these dispositions had been executed at the very moment when the
Vendeans were leaving Avranches and taking possession of the bridge at
Beaux, with the intention of proceeding to Pont-Orson. It was the 18th
of November (28 Bruniaire). General Tribout, a declaimer without any
knowledge of war, had, in order to guard Pont-Orson, merely to occupy a
narrow pass across a marsh, which covered the town and could not be
turned. With so advantageous a position, he had it in his power to prevent
the Vendeans from stirring a single step. But, as soon as he perceived the
enemy, he abandoned the defile and moved forward. The Vendeans,
encouraged by the taking of the bridge at Beaux, charged him vigorously,
obliged him to fall back, and, profiting by the disorder of his retreat, threw
themselves into the pass which crosses the marsh, and thus made themselves
masters of Pont-Orson, which they ought not to have been suffered to approach.
Owing to this unpardonable blunder, an unexpected route was opened to
the Vendeans. They might march upon Dol ; but from Dol they would be
obliged to go to Antrain, and to encounter the republican main army. They
nevertheless evacuated Pont-Onson and advanced towards Dol. Westermann
hastened in pursuit of them. Impetuous as ever, he hurried Marigny and
his grenadiers along with him, and had the hardihood to follow the Vende-
ans as far as Dol with a mere advanced guard. He actually overtook them,
and drove them confusedly into the town ; but, soon recovering themselves,
they sallied forth from Dol, and, by that destructive fire which they directed
so well, they obliged the republican advanced guard to retire to a great distance.
Kleber, who still directed the army by his counsels, though it was com-
manded by another, proposed, in order to complete the destruction of the
Vendean column, to blockade it, and thus cause it to perish by famine,
disease, and want. Dispersions were so frequent among the republican
troops, that an attack by main force might be attended with dangerous risks.
On the contrary, by fortifying Antrain, Pont-Orson, and Dinan, they would
enclose the Vendeans between the sea and three intrenched points ; and, by
harassing them every day with the troops under Westermann and Marigny,
they could not fail to destroy them. The representatives approved this
plan ; and orders were issued accordingly. But, all at once, an officer
arrived from Westermann. He said that, if the main body of the army
would second his general, and attack Dol on the Antrain side, while he
would attack it from the Pont-Orson side, it would be all over with the
Catholic army, which must be utterly destroyed. The representatives took
fire at this proposal. Prieur of La Marne, not less impetuous than Wester-
mann, caused the plan first adopted to be changed, and it was decided that
Marceau, at the head of a column, should march upon Dol simultaneously
with Westermann.
On the morning of the 21st, Westermann advanced upon Dol. In his
impatience, he did not think of ascertaining if Marceau's column, which was
to come from Antrain, had already reached the field of battle, and he attacked
forthwith. The enemy replied to his attack by their formidable fire. West-
ermann deployed his infantry and gained ground ; but cartridges began to
fail ; he was then obliged to make a retrograde movement, and fell back to a
plateau where he established himself.* Taking advantage of this situation,
• "The republicans tried to defend Pontorson, but were beaten. I arrived in a carriage
at night, just as the fighting was over. The coach passed every moment over dead bodies.
406 HISTORY OF THE
the Vendeans fell upon his column and dispersed it. Meanwhile, Marceau
at length came in sight of Dol ; the victorious Vendeans united against him ;
he resisted with heroic firmness for a whole day, and successfully maintained
his ground on the field of battle. But his position was extremely perilous ;
he sent to Kleber, soliciting advice and succour. Kleber hastened to him,
and advised him to take a retrograde, indeed, but a very strong position in
the environs of Trans. Some hesitation was felt in following the advice of
Kleber, when the presence of the Vendean riflemen made the troops fall
back. They were at first thrown into disorder, but soon rallied on the
position pointed out by Kleber. That general then again brought forward
the first plan which he had proposed, and which consisted in fortifying
Antrain. It was adopted ; but it was resolved that the troops should not
return to Antrain but remain at Trans, and fortify themselves there, in order
to be nearer to Dol. With that fickleness which governed all determinations,
this plan was once more relinquished, and it was again resolved to take the
offensive, notwithstanding the experience of the preceding day. A reinforce-
ment was sent to Westermann, with orders to attack on his side, at the same
time that the main army should attack on the side next to Trans.
Kleber in vain objected that Westermann's troops, disheartened by the
event of the preceding day, would not stand firm. The representatives
insisted, and the attack was fixed for the following day. Next day the
movement was accordingly executed. Westermann and Marigny were
anticipated and attacked by the enemy. Their troops, though supported by
a reinforcement, dispersed. They made, incredible efforts to stop them ; to
no purpose they rallied around them a few brave men, who were soon hur-
ried along by the rest. The victorious Vendeans abandoned that point, and
moved upon their right towards the army which was advancing from
Trans.
While they had just obtained this advantage and were preparing to gain a
second, the report of the artillery had struck terror into the town of Dol, and
among such of them as had not yet come forth to fight. The women, the
aged men, the children, and the cowards ran off on all sides and fled towards
Dinan and the sea. Their priests, with crucifixes in their hands, made useless
efforts to bring them back. Stofflet and Laroche-Jaquelein ran everywhere
to stop them and lead them again into action. At length they succeeded in
rallying them and making them take the road to Trans, after the brave
fellows who had preceded them.
Not less confusion prevailed in the principal camp of die republicans.
The jolting, and the cracking of bones broken by the wheels, was horrible. When alight-
ing, a corpse was before the door of the carriage. I was going to step on it, when they
took it away. Boon after we arrived at Dol, fatigued, and in want of provisions. At nine
o'clock at night the town was alarmed, the drum heat to arms, and the patrol came galloping
towards us, and announced that we must prepare for the attack of a numerous army, which
had been marching all day, and was now fast approaching Dol. The moment the Vendaaiki
hail formed themselves at the entrance of the town, the attack began. The cries of the
soldiers — the roll of the drums — the fire of the howitzers casting a transient gleam over the
town — the noise of the musketry — the thunder of the cannon — all contributed to the impres-
sion made on those who expected life or death from the issue of this battle. In the midst
of this, we kept profound silence. Suddenly we heard, at the entrance of the town, * Advance
cavalry !' — ' Vive le Roi !' A hundred thousand voices, men, women, and children, repeated
the cry, which told us that our brave protectors had saved us from massacre. The horsemen
went off at full gallop, crying ' Vive le Roi !' The light of the firing made their sabres shine
rhroueh the darkness. All the rest of the night we listened to the cannon, the noise of which
i:ri'w gradually fainter. Towards morning the republicans had retreated two leagues."-
Memoirs of the Marchioneu de Laroch'ja/judein. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 407
Rossignol and the representatives, commanding all at once, could neither
agree together nor act. Kleber and Marceau, devoured by vexatioif, had
advanced to reconnoitre the ground and to withstand the effort of the Ven-
deans. Arrived in presence of the enemy, Kleber would have deployed the
advanced guard of the army of Brest, but it ran away at the first fire. He
then ordered Canuel's brigade to advance. This brigade was in great part
composed of Mayence battalions, which, with their wonted bravery, resisted
during the whole day, and were left alone on the field of battle, forsaken by
the rest of the troops. But the Vendean band which had beaten Wester-
mann, took them in flank, and they were forced to retreat. The Vendeans,
profiting by this movement, pursued them to Antrain itself. At length it
became urgent to quit Antrain, and the whole republican army retired to
Rennes.
It was then that the prudence of Kleber's advice was fully appreciated.
Rossignol, in one of those generous impulses of which he was capable,
notwithstanding his resentment against the generals of the Mayence troops,
appeared at the council of war with a paper containing his resignation. " I
am not qualified," said he, " to command an army. Let me have a battalion
and I will do my duty : but I am not fit for the chief command. Here is my
resignation, and they who refuse it are enemies of the republic." — " No
resignation !" cried Prieur of La Marne ; " thou art the eldest son of the
committee of public welfare. We will give thee generals who shall advise
thee, and who shall be responsible in thy stead for the events of the war."
Kleber, however, mortified at seeing the army so unskilfully directed, pro-
posed a plan which could alone re-establish the state of affairs, but was far
from agreeing with the proposition of the representatives. " You ought,"
said he to them, " if you allow Rossignol to retain the generalship, to appoint
a commander-in-chief of the infantry, a commander of the cavalry, and one
of the artillery." His suggestion was adopted. He then had the boldness
to propose Marceau as commander-in-chief of the infantry, Westermann of
the cavalry, and Debilly of the artillery, all three suspected as members of
the Mayence faction. A momentary dispute ensued respecting the individu-
als ; but the opponents at length yielded to the ascendency of that able and
generous officer, who loved the republic, not from an excited imagination
but from temperament, who served with admirable sincerity and disinterest-
edness, who was passionately fond of his profession, and imbued with the
spirit of it in a very rare degree. Kleber had recommended Marceau because
that brave young soldier was at his disposal, and he reckoned upon his entire
devotedness. He was sure, if Rossignol remained the cipher he was, to
direct everything himself, and to bring the war to a successful termi-
nation.
The Cherbourg division, which had come from Normandy, was united
with the armies of Brest and the West, which then quitted Rennes and pro-
ceeded towards Angers, where the Vendeans were endeavouring to cross the
Loire. The latter, after securing the means of return by their twofold victory
on the road to Pont-Orson and on that of Antrain, thought of retiring to their
own country. They passed, without striking a blow, through Fougeres and
Laval, and designed to make themselves masters of Angers, with the inten-
tion of crossing the Loire at the bridge of Ce. The last experiment which
they had made at Granville had not wholly convinced them of their inability
to take walled towns. On the 3d of December they threw thenisi hi m into
the suburbs of Angers, and began to fire upon the front of the place. They
continued on the following day, but, anxious as they were to open for them-
408 HISTORY OF THE
selves a passage to their own country, from which they were now separated
only by the Loire, they soon despaired of succeeding. The arrival of West-
ermann's advanced guard on the same day, the 4th, completely disheartened
them, and caused them to relinquish their enterprise. They then marched
off, ascending the Loire, and not knowing where they should be able to cross
it. Some advised that they should go on to Saumur, others to Blois ; but,
at the moment when they were deliberating, Kleber came *up with his
division along the Saumur road, and obliged them to fall back into Bretagne.
Thus these unfortunate creatures, destitute of provisions, of shoes, of vehicles
to convey their families, afflicted by an epidemic disease, were again wan-
dering in Bretagne, without finding either an asylum or outlet whereby to
escape.* The roads were covered with the sad vestiges of their disastrous
retreat; and at the bivouac before Angers were found women and children
who had died of hunger and cold. They began already to believe that the
Convention meant no harm to any but their chiefs, and many of them threw
away their arms and fled clandestinely across the country. At length the
reports made to them concerning Mans, the abundance which they should
find there, and the dispositions of the inhabitants, induced them to proceed
thither. They passed through La Fleche, of which they made themselves
masters, and entered Mans after a slight skrimish.
The republican army followed them. Fresh disputes had taken place
among the generals. Kleber had intimidated the quarrelsome by his firm-
ness, and obliged the representatives to send back Rossignol to Rennes with
his division of the Brest army. An ordinance of the committee of public
welfare then conferred on Marceau the title of commander-in-chief, and dis-
missed all the Mayence generals, but allowed Marceau to avail himself tem-
porarily of Kleber's services. Marceau declared that he would not com-
mand, if Kleber were not at his side to direct everything. "In accepting
the title," said Marceau to Kleber, " I take the annoyance and the responsi-
bility upon myself, and I shall leave thee the actual command and the means
of saving the army." — " Be easy, my friend," said Kleber, " we will fight
and we will be guillotined together."
The army marched immediately, and, from that moment, everything was
conducted with unity and firmness. Westermann's advanced guard arrived
on the 12th at Mans, and instantly charged the Vendeans. Confusion seized
them ; but some thousand brave men, headed by Laroche-Jacquelein, formed
before the town, and obliged Westermann to fall back upon Marceau, who
was coming up with a division. Kleber was still behind with the rest of the
army. Westermann was for attacking immediately, though it was dark.
Marceau, impelled by his impetuous temperament, but fearing the censure
of Kleber, whose cool, calm energy never suffered itself to be hurried away,
at first hesitated ; but, overcome by Westermann, he made up his mind, and
* " No words can possibly give an idea of our despair. Hunger, fatigue, and grief, had
transformed us all. Everybody was in rags, even our chiefs. I will attempt a sketch of our
costume. Besides my peasant-dress I had on my head a flannel hood, an old blanket about
me, and a large piece of blue cloth tied round my neck with twine. I wore three pair of yel-
low worsted stockings, and green slippers fastened to my feet with cord. My horse had an
hussar saddle with a sheep skin. M. de Mouliniers had a turban and a Turkish dress which
he had taken from the playhouse at La Fleche. The Chevalier de Beauvolliers was wrap-
ped up in a lawyer's gown, and had a woman's hat over a flannel nightcap. Madame d'Ar-
maille and her children were covered with pieces of yellow damask. M. de Verteuil had been
killed in battle with two petticoats on, one fastened round his neck, and the other to his
waist. He fought thus equipped." — Memoirs of the Marchioness de Larochejaeauelein. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 409
attacked Mans. The tocsin rang, and dismay pervaded the town. West-
ermann and Marceau dashed forward in the dark, overturning all before them;
and, in spite of a galling fire from the houses, they drove back the greater
number of the Vendeans to the great square of the town. Marceau directed
the streets running into this square on his right and left to be cut off, and thus
kept the Vendeans blockaded. His position was, nevertheless, hazardous ;
for, having ventured into a town in the middle of the night, he was liable to
be toned mid surrounded. He, therefore, sent a message to Kleber, urging
him to come up as speedily as possible with his division. The latter arrived
at daybreak. Most of the Vendeans had fled ; the bravest of them only re-
mained to protect the retreat : they were charged with the bayonet, broken,
dispersed, and a horrible carnage began all over the town.
Never had rout been so disastrous. A considerable number of women,
left behind, were made prisoners. Marceau saved a young female who had
lost her relatives, and who, in her despair, begged to be put to death. She
was modest and beautiful. Marceau, full of kindness and delicacy, took her
into his carriage, treated her with respect, and caused her to be conveyed to
a place of safety. The country was covered to a considerable distance by
this great disaster. The indefatigable Westermann harassed the fugitives,
and strewed the roads with dead bodies. The unfortunate Vendeans, not
knowing whither to flee, entered Laval for the third time, and left it again
immediately to proceed once more towards the Loire. They purposed to
cross at Ancenis. Laroche-Jacquelein and Stofflet threw themselves on the
other bank, with the intention it was said, of procuring boats, and bringing
them to the right bank. They did not come back. Indeed, it is asserted
that it was impossible for them to return. The passage could not be effected.
The Vendean column, deprived of the presence and support of its two lead-
ers, continued to descend the Loire, still pursued, and still vainly seeking a
passage. At length, reduced to despair, not knowing which way to turn, it
resolved to flee to the extreme point of Bretagne, to the Morbihan. It pro-
ceeded to Blain, where its rear-guard obtained an advantage ; and from Blain
to Savenai, whence it hoped to be able to throw itself into the Morbihan.
The republicans had followed the Vendean column without intermission,
and they arrived at Savenai on the evening of the same day that it had enter-
ed that place. Savenai had the Loire on the left, marshes on the right, and
a wood in front. Kleber felt the importance of occupying the wood the
same day, and of making himself master of all the heights, in order to crush
the Vendeans on the following day in Savenai, before they had time to leave
it. Accordingly, he directed his advanced guard upon them ; and he himself,
seizing the moment when the Vendeans were debouching from the wood, to
repulse his advanced guard, boldly threw himself into it with a corps of in-
fantry, and completely cleared it of them. They then fled to Savenai, and
shut themselves up there, keeping up, however, a continual fire all night.
Westermann and the representatives proposed to attack immediately, and to
consummate the destruction that very night. Kleber, determined that no
fault of his should deprive him of a certain victory, declared positively that
he would not attack ; and then, assuming an imperturbable indifference, he
suffered them to say what they pleased, without replying to any provocation.
He thus prevented every sort of movement.
Next morning, December the 23d, before it was light, he was on horse-
baek with Marceau, passing along his line, when the Vendeans, driven to
desperation and determined not to survive that battle, rushed first upon the
republicans. Marceau marched with the centre, Canuel with the right,
vol. ii. — 52 2 M
410 HISTORY OF THE
Kleber with the left. All of them fell upon and drove back the Vendeans.
Marceau and Kleber joined in the town, and, taking all the cavalry they
could find, went in pursuit of the enemy. The Loire and the marshes for-
bade all retreat to the unfortunate Vendeans. A great number perished by
the bayonet;* others were made prisoners ; and very few found means to
escape. On that day the column was utterly destroyed, and the great war
of La Vendee was truly brought to a close.t
Thus this unfortunate population, drawn from its own country through the
imprudence of its chiefs, and reduced to the necessity of seeking a port as a
place of refuge within reach of the English, had in vain set foot in the waters
of the Ocean. Granville had proved inaccessible to it. It had been led back
to the Loire; unable to cross that river, it had been a second time driven
back into Bretagne, and from Bretagne again to the Loire. At length, find-
ing it impossible to pass that fatal barrier, it had gone to perish in a body
between Savenai, the Loire, and the marshes. Westermann was despatched
with his cavalry to pursue the fugitive wrecks of La Vendee. Kleber and
Marceau returned to Nantes. Received on the 24th by the people of that
city, they obtained a sort of triumph, and were presented by the Jacobin club
with a civic crown.
If we take a general view of this memorable campaign of 1793, we cannot
help considering it as the greatest effort that was ever made by a nation
threatened with civil war. In the year 1792, the coalition, which was not
yet complete, had acted without unity and without vigour. The Prussians
had attempted a ridiculous invasion in Champagne; the Austrians had con-
fined themselves in the Netherlands to the bombardment of the fortress of
Lille ; the French in their first excitement drove back the Prussians beyond
the Rhine, the Austrians beyond the Meuse, conquered the Netherlands,
Mayence, Savoy, and the county of Nice. The important year 1793 opened
in a very different manner. The coalition was strengthened by three powers
which had hitherto been neutral. Spain, provoked to the utmost by the event
of the 21st of January, had at length sent fifty thousand men to the Pyrenees;
France had obliged Pitt to declare himself; and England and Holland had
entered at once into the coalition, which was thus doubled, and which, better
informed of the means of the enemy with which it had to cope, augmented
its forces, and prepared for a decisive effort. Thus, as in the time of Louis
XIV., France had to sustain the attack of all Europe ; and she had not drawn
upon herself this combination of enemies by her ambition, but by the just
indignation which the interference of the powers in her internal affairs had
awakened in her.
So early as the month of March, Dumouriez set out on a rash enterprise,
and proposed to invade Holland by crossing over in boats. Meanwhile,
Coburg surprised the lieutenants of that general, drove them beyond the
Meuse, and even obliged him to return and put himself at the head of his
army. Dumouriez was forced to fight the battle of Neerwinden. That ter-
rible battle was won, when the left wing gave way and recrossed the Gette :
• " On this occasion between five and six thousand Vendeans perished with arms la their
hands. The work of fusillading was carried on during eight days at Savenai, till the walls
were scaled with blood, and the ditches filled with human bodies." — Quarterly Kevim: K.
■j" " I have seen and observed well these desperate heroes of Savenai ; and I swear to you
that they wanted nothing of soldiers but the dress, I know not if I am mistaken, but this
war of brigands and peasants, on which so much ridicule has been thrown, and which peo-
ple have affected to treat as despicable, has always appeared to me the one of the greatest im-
portance to the republic." — Letter from a Republican General to Merlin dt Thimvillc. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 411
it became necessary to beat a retreat, and we lost the Netherlands in a few
days. Our reverses then soured the public mind; Dumouriez broke with
his government, and went over to the Austrians. At the same time Custine,
beaten at Frankfort, driven back upon the Rhine, and separated from May-
ence. left the Prussians to blockade and to commence the siege of that famous
fortress ; the Piedninntese repulsed us at Saorgio ; the Spaniards crossed the
Pyrenees; and, lastly, the provinces of the West, already deprived of their
priests, and provoked to the utmost by the levy of the three hundred thou-
sand men, rose in insurrection at the name of the throne and of the altar.
It was at this moment Uiat the Mountain, exasperated by the desertion of
Dumouriez, the defeat sustained in the Netherlands, on the Rhine, at the
Alps, and more especially by the insurrection of the West, throwing off all
restraint, tore the Girondins by force from the bosom of the Convention, and
thus removed all those who could still have talked to it of moderation. This
new outrage created it new enemies. Sixty-seven departments out of eighty-
three rose against the government, which had then to struggle with Europe,
royalist La Vendee, and tfiree-fourths of federalized France. It was at this
epoch that we lost- the camp of Famars and the brave Dampierre, that the
blockade of Valenciennes "was completed, that Mayence was closely pressed,
that the Spaniards crossed the Tech and threatened Perpignan, that the Ven-
deans took Saumur and besieged Nantes, and that the federalists made
preparations for proceeding from Lyons, Marseilles, Bordeaux, and Caen,
upon Paris.
From all these points a bold march upon the capital might have been
attempted. The Revolution might have been terminated in a few days, and
European civilization suspended for a long time. Fortunately, the insurgents
laid siege to fortresses. ' The reader will recollect with what firmness the
Convention reduced the departments to submission, by merely showing its
authority, and dispersing the imprudent people who had advanced as far as
Vernon ; with what success the Vendeans were repulsed from Nantes, and
stopped in their victorious career. But, while the Convention was triumph-
ing over the federalists, its other enemies were making alarming progress.
Valenciennes and Mayence were taken after memorable sieges; the war of
federalism was attended with two deplorable events, the siege of Lyons and
the treason at Toulon ; lastly, La Vendee itself, notwithstanding the success-
ful resistance of Nantes, enclosed by the Loire, the sea, and Poitou, had
repulsed the columns of Westermann and Labaroliere, which had attempted
to penetrate into its bosom. Never had situation been more perilous. The
allies were no longer detained in the north and on the Rhine by sieges ;
Lyons and Toulon offered solid supports to the Piedmontese ; La Vendee
appeared invincible, and offered a footing to the English. It was then that
the Convention summoned to Paris the deputies of the primary assemblies,
gave them the constitution of the year 3 to swear to and to defend, and de-
cided with them that entire France, men, and things, should be at the disposal
of the government. Then were decreed the levy en masse, generation by
generation, and the power of requiring whatever was needed for the war.
Then were instituted the great book, and the forced loan from the rich, in
or.ler to withdraw part of the assignats from circulation, and to effect the
forced sale of the national domains. Then were two large armies despatched
to La Vendee; the garrison of Mayence was conveyed thither by carriages
travelling post; it was resolred that that unfortunate country should be laid
waste, and that its population should be transferred to other parts. Lastly,
412 HISTORY OF THE
Carnot became a member of the committee of public welfare, had introduced
order and unity into the military operations.
We had lost Caesar's Camp, and Kilmaine had, by a lucky retreat, saved
the remains of the army of the North. The English advanced to Dunkirk
and laid siege to that town, while the Austrians attacked Le Quesnoy. A
force was rapidly moved from Lille upon the rear of the Duke of York. Had
Houchard, who on this occasion commanded sixty thousand French, com-
prehended Carnot's plan, and proceeded to Fumes, not an Englishman would
have escaped. Instead of advancing between the corps of observation and
the besieging corps, he pursued a direct course, and at least caused the siege
to be raised, by fighting the successful battle of Hondtschoote. This was
our first victory, which saved Dunkirk, deprived the English of all the fruits
of the war, and restored to us joy and hope.
Fresh reverses soon converted this joy into new alarms. Le Quesnoy
was taken by the Austrians ; Houchard's array was seized with a panic-terror
at Menin, and dispersed ; the Prussians and the Austrians, whom there was
nothing to stop after the reduction of Mayence, advanced upon the two slopes
of the Vosges, threatened the lines of Weissenburg, and beat us in several
rencounters. The Lyonnese made a vigorous resistance ; the Piedmontese
had recovered Savoy, and descended towards Lyons, to place our army be-
tween two fires. Ricardo had crossed the Tet and advanced beyond Per-
pignan ; lastly, the division of the troops in the West into two armies, that
of La Rochelle and that of Brest, had prevented the success of the plan of
campaign agreed upon at Saumur on the 2d of September. Canclaux, badly
seconded by Rossignol, had found himself alone, in advance, in the heart of
La Vendee, and had fallen back upon Nantes. New efforts were then re-
quired. The dictatorship was completed and proclaimed by the institution
of the revolutionary government ; the power of the committee of public wel-
fare was proportioned to the danger ; the levies were effected, and the armies
swelled by a multitude of recruits ; the new-comers filled the garrisons, and
permitted the organized troops to be transferred to the line ; lasdy, the Con-
vention ordered the armies to conquer within a given time.
The means which it had employed produced their inevitable effects. The
armies of the North, being reinforced, concentrated themselves at Lille and
at Guise. The allies had proceeded to Maubeuge, and purposed taking it
before the end of the campaign. Jourdan, marching from Guise, fought the
Austrians at Watignies, and forced them to raise the siege of Maubeuge, as
Houchard had obliged the English to raise that of Dunkirk. The Pied-
montese were driven back beyond the St. Bernard by Kellermann. Lyons,
inundated by levies en masse, was carried by assault; Ricardos was driven
beyond the Tet ; lasdy, the two armies of La Rochelle and Brest, united
under one commander, L'Echelle, who suffered Kleber to act for him,
crushed the Vendeans at Cholet, and obliged them to cross the Loire in
disorder.
A single reverse disturbed the joy which such events could not fail to
produce. The lines of Weissenburg were lost. But the committee of
public welfare resolved not to terminate the campaign before they were re-
taken. Young Hoche, general of the army of the Moselle, unsuccessful,
yet brave, at Kaiserslautern, was encouraged though beaten. Unable to gH
at Brunswick, he threw himself on the flank of Wurmser. From that mo-
ment the united armies of the Rhine and of the Moselle drove the Austrians
before them beyond Weissenburg, obliged Brunswick to follow the retrograde
movement, raised the blockade of Landau, and encamped in the Palatinate.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 41 S
Toulon was retaken in consequence of a happy idea, and by a prodigy of
boldness ; lastly, the Vendeans, who were supposed to be destroyed, but
who, in their despair, had to the number of eighty thousand crossed the
Loire and sought a seaport, with the intention of throwing themselves into
the arms of the English — the Vendeans were driven back alike from the
coast and from the banks of the Loire, and annihilated between these two
barriers, which they never could pass. At the Pyrenees alone our arms had
been unfortunate ; but we had lost the line of Tech only, and were still en-
camped before Perpignan.
Thus this grand and awful year showed us Europe pressing the Revolution
with its whole weight, and, making it atone for its first success in 1792,
driving back its armies, penetrating by all the frontiers at once, and part of
France rising in insurrection, and adding its efforts to those of the hostile
powers. The Revolution then took fire. Hurling its indignation on the
31st of May, it created by that day new enemies, and appeared on the point
of succumbing again to Europe and three-fourths of its revolted provinces.
But it soon reduced its internal enemies to their duty, raised a million of men
at once, beat the English at Hondtschoote, was beaten in its turn, but imme-
diately redoubled its efforts, won a victory at Watignies, recovered the lines
of Weissenburg, drove the Piedmontese beyond the Alps, took Lyons and
Toulon, and twice crushed the Vendeans, the first time in La Vendee, and,
for the last time, in Bretagne. Never was there a grander spectacle, or one
more worthy to be held forth to the admiration and the imitation of nations.
France had recovered all that she had lost excepting Conde, Valenciennes,
and some forts in Roussillon. The powers of Europe, on the contrary,
which had all combated her single-handed, had gained nothing, were
accusing one another, and throwing upon each other the disgrace of the
campaign. France was completing the organization of her means, and pre-
paring to appear still more formidable in the following year.
2m 2
414 HISTORY OF THE
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
STRUGGLE BETWEEN THE HEBERTISTS AND DANTONISTS— THE COM-
MITTEE OF PUBLIC WELFARE PLACES ITSELF BETWEEN THE TWO
PARTIES AND STRIVES ESPECIALLY TO REPRESS THE HEBERTISTS—
MOVEMENT ATTEMPTED BY THE HEBERTISTS— ARREST AND DEATH
OF RONSIN, VINCENT, HEBERT, MOMORO, ETC.— THE COMMITTEE
OF PUBLIC WELFARE SUBJECTS THE DANTONISTS TO THE SAME
FATE— DEATH OF D ANTON, CAMILLE-DESMOULINS, LACROIX, FABRE
D'EGLANTINE, CHABOT, ETC.
The Convention had begun to exercise some severities against the turbu-
lent faction of the Cordeliers and of the ministerial agents. Ronsin and
Vincent were in prison. Their partisans were bestirring themselves with-
out. Momoro at the Cordeliers, Hebert at the Jacobins, were striving to
excite the interest of the hot revolutionists in favour of their friends. The
Cordeliers drew up a petition, and asked, in a tone that was anything but
respectful, if it was intended to punish Vincent and Ronsin for having cour-
ageously attacked Dumouriez, Custine, and Brissot. They declared that
they considered those two citizens as excellent patriots, and that they should
still retain them as members of their society. The Jacobins presented a
more measured petition, and merely prayed that the report concerning Vin-
cent and Ronsin should be accelerated, in order that they might be punished
if guilty, or restored to liberty if they were innocent.
The committee of public welfare still kept silence. Collot-d'Herbois
alone, though a member of the committee and a compulsory partisan of the
government, displayed the warmest zeal in behalf of Ronsin. The motive
of this was natural. The cause of Vincent was almost foreign to him, but
that of Ronsin, who was sent with him to Lyons, and who moreover carried
his sanguinary ordinances into execution, concerned him very nearly. Col-
lot-d'Herbois had maintained, with Ronsin, that not more than a hundredth
part of the Lyonnese were patriots ; that it was necessary to carry away
or to sacrifice the rest, and to consign their carcasses to the Rhone, in order
to dismay the whole of the South by this spectacle, and to strike terror into
the rebellious city of Toulon. Ronsin was in prison for having repeated
these horrible expressions in a posting-bill. Collot-d'Herbois, now sum-
moned to render an account of his mission, was deeply interested in justify
ing the conduct of Ronsin, that he might gain approbation for his own.
At this moment there arrived a petition signed by some citizens of Lyons,
who presented a most distressing picture of the calamities inflicted on their
city. They represented discharges of grape-shot succeeding the executions
by the guillotine, an entire population threatened with extermination, and a
wealthy manufacturing city demolished not with the hammer but by mining.
This petition, which four citizens had had the courage to sign, produced a
painful impression upon the Convention. Collot-d'Herbois hastened tc
FRENCH REVOLUTION 415
make this report, and in his revolutionary intoxication,* he exhibited those
awful executions as they appeared to his imagination, that is, as indispensa-
ble and perfectly natural. " The Lyonnese," said he in substance, " were
conquered, but they openly declared that they would soon have their revenge.
It was necessary to strike terror into these yet unsubdued rebels, and with
them Into all those who were disposed to imitate them. A prompt and a
terrible example was required. The ordinary instrument of death did not
act with sufficient despatch ; the hammer demolished but slowly. Grape-
shot has destroyed the men, mining has destroyed the buildings. Those
who have suffered had all imbrued their hands in the blood of the patriots.
A popular commission selected them with prompt and unerring eye from
among the multitude of prisoners ; and there was no reason to regret any of
those who had suffered." Collot-d'Herbois obliged the Convention to
approve of what appeared so natural to himself ; he then proceeded to the
Jacobins to complain to them of the difficulty he had had to justify his con-
duct, and of the compassion which the Lyonnese had excited. " This
morning," said he, " I was forced to employ circumlocutions in order to
cause the death of traitors to be approved of. People shed tears. They
inquired whether they had died at the first stroke! Counter-revolutionists !
— At th§ first stroke ! And did Chalier die at the first stroke !f . . . • You
inquire,' said I to the Convention, ' how those men died who were covered
with the blood of our brethren ! If they were not dead, you would not be
deliberating here !' . . . Well, they could scarcely understand this language;
they could not bear to hear talk of dead men ; they knew notrhow to defend
themselves from shadows." Then turning to Ronsin, Collot-d'Herbois
added that this general had shared all dangers with the patriots in the South,
that he had there defied with him the daggers of the aristocrats, and dis-
played the greatest firmness in enforcing respect for the authority of the
republic ; that at this moment all the aristocrats were rejoicing at his arrest,
which they regarded as a source of hope for themselves. " What then has
Ronsin done to be arrested ?" exclaimed Collot. " I have asked everybody
this question, none could tell me." On the day which followed this sitting,
the 3d Nivose, Collot, returning to the charge, communicated the death of
Gaillard the patriot, who, seeing that the Convention seemed to disapprove
of the energy displayed at Lyons, had committed suicide. " Was I wrong,"
exclaimed Collot, " when I told you that the patriots would be driven to
despair, if the public spirit were to sink on this occasion ?"
Thus, while the two leaders of the ultra-revolutionists were imprisoned,
their partisans were bestirring themselves in their behalf. The clubs, the
Convention, were annoyed by remonstrances in their favour, and a member
of the committee of public welfare itself, compromised in their sanguinary
system, defended them in order to defend himself. Their adversaries began,
on their part, to throw the greatest energy into their attacks. Philipeaux,
returned from La Vendee, and full of indignation against the staff of Saumur,
was solicitous that the committee of public welfare, sharing that indignation,
should prosecute Rossignol, Ronsin, and others, and discovered treason in the
• " In the year 1792 this flaming patriot and republican published a tract in favour of a
constitutional monarchy, which, it seems, he expected would induce the King to employ
him. Being disappointed of his object, he became the decided enemy of royalty, and joined
the party of Robespierre.' —Gorton. E.
•f- At the execution of this Mountaineer, condemned by the Lyonnese federalists, the exe-
cutioner had been so awkward at his business that he was obliged to make three attempts
before his head was struck off.
416 HISTORY OF THE
failure of the plan of campaign of the 2d of September. We have already
seen what blunders, what misconceptions, and what, incompatibilities of
character there were in the conduct of that war. Rossignol and the staff of
Saumur had been actuated by spleen but not by treason. The committee,
though disapproving of their conduct, could not visit them with a condemna-
tion which would have been neither just nor politic. Robespierre recom-
mended an amicable explanation; but Philipeaux, becoming impatient, wrote
a virulent pamphlet, in which he gave a narrative of the whole war, and
mixed up many errors with many truths. This publication could not fail to
produce the strongest sensation, for it attacked the most decided revolution-
ists, and charged them with the most odious treasons. "What has Ronsin
done?" said Philipeaux. " Intrigued a great deal, robbed a great deal, lied
a great deal! His only expedition is that of the 18th of September, when
he caused forty-five thousand patriots to be beaten by three thousand brigands.
It is that fatal day of Coron, when, after placing our artillery in a gorge at
the head of a column having a flank of six leagues, he kept himself con-
cealed in a stable, like a cowardly rascal, two leagues from the field of battle,
where our unfortunate comrades were mowed down by their own guns."
We see that in this pamphlet Philipeaux was not very choice in his expres-
sions. Unfortunately, the committee of public welfare, which he ought to
have contrived to get on his side, was itself not treated with much respect.
Philipeaux, dissatisfied at seeing his own indignation not sufficiently shared,
seemed to impute to the committee parts of the faults with which he re-
proached Ronsin, and even made use of this offensive expression : if you
have been nothing more than mistaken.
This pamphlet, as we have observed, produced a great sensation. Ca-
mille-Desmoulins was not acquainted with Philipeaux, but pleased to find that
in La Vendee the ultra-revolutionists had committed as many faults as in
Paris, and not suspecting that anger had so blinded PhUipeaux as to convert
faults into treason, he read his pamphlet with avidity, admired his courage,
and with his wonted naivete he said to everybody, " Have you read Phili-
peaux?" . . . "You must read Philipeaux." Everybody, in his opinion,
ought to read that publication, which proved the dangers incurred by the re-
public, through the fault of the revolutionary exaggeratore.
Camille was very fond of Danton, and Danton of him. Both thought
that, as the republic was saved by the late victories, it was time to put an
end to cruelties thenceforth useless, that their longer continuance would only
serve to compromise the Revolution, and that the foreign enemy alone could
desire and instigate their prolongation. Camille conceived the idea of com-
mencing a new journal which he entitled The Old Cordelier, for he and Dan-
ton were the elders of that celebrated club. His shafts were aimed at all the
new revolutionists, who wished to overthrow and to outstrip the oldest and
most tried revolutionists. Never had this writer — the most remarkable writer
of the Revolution, and one of the most natural and witty in our language-
displayed such grace, originality, and even eloquence. His first number
(15 Frimaire), commenced thus: "0 Pitt! I pay homage to thy genius !
What new arrivals from France in England have given thee such excellent
advice, and furnished thee with such sure means of mining my country !
Thou hast seen that thou shouldst everlastingly fail against her, if thou didst
not strive to ruin in the public opinion those who for these five years have
been thwarting all thy projects. Thou hast discovered that it is those who
have always conquered thee that it behoves thee to conquer; that it behoves
thee to accuse of corruption precisely those whom thou hast never been able
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 417
to corrupt, and of lukewarmness those whom thou never couldst render luke-
warm ! I have opened my eyes," added Desmoulins; "I have seen the
number of our enemies : their multitude tears me from the Hotel des Invalides,
and hurries me hack, to the fight. I am forced to write ; I must throw aside
the slow pencil of the history of the Revolution, which I was tracing by the
fireside, to take up the rapid and panting pen of the journalist, and to follow
at full gallop the revolutionary torrent. A consulting deputy, whom nobody
nsulted since the 3d of June, I sally forth from my closet and my
arm-chair, where I have had abundant leisure to follow minutely the new
in of our enemies."
Camille extolled Robespierre to the skies for his conduct at the Jacobins,
and for the generous services which he had rendered to the old patriots ; and
he expressed himself as follows relative to religion and the proscriptions.
"The human mind when ill," said he, "needs the dreamy bed of super-
5tition: and, to see the festivals and the processions that are instituted, the
altars and the shrines that are raised, it seems as if it were only the bed of
the patient that is changed, as if merely the pillow of the hope of another
life were taken away from him. . . For my part, I said the same thing on
the very day that I saw Gobel come to the bar, with his crucifix and his cro-
sier, which were borne in triumph before Anaxagoras,* the philosopher. If
it were not a crime of lese-mountain to suspect a president of the Jacobins
and a procureur of the commune, like Clootz and Chaumette, I should be
tempted to believe that, at this expression of Barrere, La Vendee has ceased
to exist.' the King of Prussia exclaimed with sorrow, 'All our efforts then
will fail against the republic, since the kernel of La Vendee is destroyed,'
and that the crafty Lucchesini,t in order to console him, made this reply :
'Invincible hero, I have hit upon an expedient. Let me act. I will pay
some priests to call themselves charlatans. I will inflame the patriotism of
others to make a similar declaration. There are in Paris two famous patriots
who will be well adapted, by their talents, their exaggeration, and their well-
known religious system, to second us and to receive our impressions. All
that need be done, is to make our friends in France act in concert with the
two great philosophers, Anacharsis and Anaxagoras ; to stir up their bile, and
to dazzle their civism by the rich spoil of the sacristies. [I hope that Chau-
mette will not complain of this number; the Marquis de Lucchesini could
not speak of him in more honourable terms.] Anacharsis and Anaxagoras
will imagine that they are pushing the wheel of reason, whereas it will be
that of counter-revolution ; and, presendy, instead of leaving Popery, ready
to draw its last breath, to expire in France of old age and inanition, I pro-
mise you, by the aid of persecution and intolerance against those who are
determined to mass and to be massed, to send off abundance, of recruits to
Lescure and Laroche-Jacquelein.'
Camille, then relating what occurred in the time of the Roman emperors,
and pretending to give a mere translation of Tacitus, made a terrific allusion
to the law of the suspected. " In ancient times," said he, " there was at
* The name assumed by Chaumette.
■\ " Lucchesini, Marquis of Girolamo, formerly Prussian minister of state, and descended
from a Patrician family of Lucca, was born in 1752. In the year 1791 he was present at
the congress of Reichenbach, in the capacity of a plenipotentiary, for effecting, in conjunction
with the English and Dutch minister, a peace between the Turks and the Emperor. In 1793
the King of Prussia appointed him his ambassador to Vienna; he, however, accompanied
his majesty during the greater part of his campaign against France. He was afterwards
chamberlain to Napoleon's sister, the Princess of Lucca. Lucchesini died at Florence in the
fear 1825." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
vol ii. — 33
418 . HISTORY OF THE
Rome, according to Tacitus, a law which specified the crimes of state and
of lese-majesty, and decreed capital punishment. These crimes of lese-ma-
jesty, under the republic, were reduced to four kinds: if an army had been
abandoned in an enemy's country ; if seditions had been excited ; if the
members of the constituted bodies had mismanaged the public business or
the public money; if the majesty of the Roman people had been degraded.
The emperors needed but a few additional articles to this law to involve the
citizens and whole cities in proscription. Augustus was the first to extend
this law of lese-majesty, by including in it writings which he called coun-
ter-revolutionary. The extensions had soon no limits. As soon as words
had become crimes of state, it needed but one step more to change mere
looks, sorrow, compassion, sighs, even silence itself, into crimes.
" Presently, it was a crime of lese-majesty or of counter-revolution in the
city of Nursia to have erected monuments to its inhabitants who had fallen
during the siege of Modena; a crime of counter-revolution in Libo Drusus
to have asked the fortune-tellers if he should not some day possess great
wealth; a crime of counter-revolution in Cremuntius Cordus, the journalist,
to have called Brutus and Cassius the last of the Romans ; a crime of coun-
ter-revolution in one of the descendants of Cassius to have in his house a
portrait of his ancestor; a crime of counter-revolution in Marcus Scaurus to
have written a tragedy containing a certain verse to which two meanings
might be given ; a crime of counter-revolution in Torquatus Silanus to live
in an expensive style ; a crime of counter-revolution in Petreius to have
dreamt of Claudius ; a crime of counter-revolution in Pomponius becau-
friend of Sejanus had sought an asylum in one of his country-houses; a
crime of counter-revolution to complain of the calamities of the time, for that
was equivalent to the condemnation of the government; a crime of counter-
revolution not to invoke the divine spirit of Caligula. For having so failed,
a great number of citizens were flogged, condemned to the mines, or to be
thrown to wild beasts, and some even were sawed asunder Lastly, it was
a crime of counter-revolution in the mother of Fusius Germinus, the consul,
to have wept for the melancholy death of her son.
" It was absolutely necessary to manifest joy at the death of a friend or a
relative, if a person would not run the risk of perishing himself.
"Everything gave umbrage to the tyrant. If a citizen possessed popu-
larity, he was a rival of the prince and might stir up civil war : Sliulia
civium in se verteret, el n multi idem audeant helium esset. Suspected.
"If, on the contrary, a man shunned popularity, and stuck close to his
chimney-corner, this secluded life made him an object of notice. It gave
him consideration. Suspected.
" Were you rich — there was imminent danger that the people might be
bribed by your largesses. Suspected.
" Were you poor — what then, invincible emperor? That man must be
the more closely watched. None is so enterprising as the man who has
nothing : Syllam inopem, unde prsecipuam audacium. Suspe<
" Were you of a gloomy, melancholy disposition, or carelessly »lr.
you were fretting because public affairs were prosperous : Hominem publicis
bonis moestum. Suspected."
Camille-Desmoulins proceeded in this manner with this masterly enume-
ration of suspected persons, and sketched a horrible picture of what \\
at Paris, by what had been done in Rome. If the letter of Philipeaux had
produced a great sensation, the journal of Camille-Desmoulins produced i
much greater. Fifty thousand copies of each of his numbers were sold in a
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
few days. The provinces took targe quantities of them. The prisoners
procured them by stealth, and read with delight and with somewhat of hope,
that revolutionist who had formerly been so hateful to tliein. Camilla,
without wishing the prisons to be opened or the revolution to lie thrown
back, demanded the institution of a committee, to be called the committee of
clemency, to investigate the eases of the prisoners, to liberate the citizens
eontined without sufficient cause, and to stanch the blood where it had flowed
too freely.
The publications of Philipeaux and Desmoulins irritated the zealous revo-
lutionists in the highest decree, and were disapproved of by the Jacobins,
llehert denounced them therewith fury. He even moved that their authors
should be erased from the list of die society. He mentioned, moreover,
Bourdon of the Disc, and Fahre d' Eglantine, as the accomplices of Camille-
Desmoulins and Philipeaux. We have seen that Bourdon had attempted, in
concert with Coupilleau, to remove Rossignol : he had quarrelled with the
stall" of Saumur, and had never ceased to inveigh in the Convention against
Ronsin's party. It was this that caused him to be coupled with Philipeaux.
Fahre was accused of having had a hand in the affair of the fabricated decree,
and people were disposed to believe this, though he had been justified by
Chabot. Aware of his perilous situation, and having everything to fear from
stem of too great severity, he had spoken twice or thrice in favour of a
system of indulgence, broken completely with the ultra-revolutionists, and been
treated as an intriguer by Father Duchesne. The Jacobins, without adopting
the violent motions of Hebert, decided that Philipeaux, Camille-Desmoulins.
Bourdon of the Oise, and Fabre d'Eglantine, should be summoned to the bar
of the society, to give explanations concerning their works and their speeches
in the Convention.
The sitting at which they were to appear had drawn an unusually full
attendance. People contended with violence for seats, and some were even
sold at twenty-five francs each. Philipeaux, though he was not a member
of the society, did not refuse to appear at its bar, and repeated the charges
which he had already made, either in his correspondence with the committee
of public welfare or in his pamphlet. He spared persons no more than he
had done before, and twice or three times formally and insultingly gave He-
bert the lie. These bold personalities of Philipeaux began to agitate the
society, and the sitting was becoming stormy, when Danton observed that it
required the closest attention and the greatest composure to judge of so serious
a question ; that he had not formed any opinion concerning Philipeaux and
the truth of his accusations ; that he had already said to himself, " Thou
must either prove thy charges, or lay down thy head on the scaffold ;" that
perhaps there was nothing in fault here but circumstances ; but that, at any
rate, it was right that every one should be heard, and above all, listened to.
Robespierre, who spoke after Danton, said that he had not read Phili-
peaux's pamphlet, and merely knew that the committee was in that pamphlet
rendered responsible for the loss of twenty thousand men ; that the committee
had no time to answer libels and to engage in a paper war ; that he neverthe-
less did not conceive Philipeaux to be guilty of any bad intentions, but to be
hurried away by passion. "I pretend not," said Robespierre, "to inij
silence on the conscience of my colleague ; but let him examine his heart.
and judge whether it does not harbour vanity or some other petty passion. I
dare say he is swayed as much by patriotism as passion • but let him reflect!
let him consider the conflict that is commencing ! He will see that the
moderates will take up his defence ; that the aristocrats will range themselves
420 HISTORY OF THE
on his side ; that the Convention itself will be divided ; that there will per-
haps arise an opposition party, which would be a disastrous circumstance,
and renew the combat that is just over, and the conspiracies which it has
cost so much trouble to put down !" He therefore exhorted Phillipeaux to
examine his secret motives, and the Jacobins to listen to him in silence.
Nothing could be more reasonable and more suitable than Robespierre's
observations, with the exception of the tone which was always emphatic and
magisterial, especially since he ruled at the Jacobins. Philipeaux again
spoke, launched out into the same personalities, and excited the same dis-
turbance as before. Danton angrily exclaimed that the best way would be
to cut short such quarrels, and to appoint a commission to examine the papers
in support of the charges. Couthon said that, even before resorting to that
measure, it would be well to ascertain if the question was worth the trouble,
and whether it might not be merely a question between man and man ; and
he proposed to ask Philipeaux if in his soul and conscience he believed that
there had been treason. He then addressed Philipeaux. M Dost thou be-
lieve," said he, "in thy soul and conscience that there has been treason ?" —
"Yes," imprudently replied Philipeaux. "In that case," rejoined Couthon,
" there is no other way. A commission ought to be appointed to hear the
accused and the accusers, and to make its report to the society." The mo-
tion was adopted, and the commission appointed to investigate not only the
charges of Philipeaux, but also the conduct of Bourdon of the Oise, of Fabre
d' Eglantine, and of Camille-Desmoulins.
This was the 3d of Nivose. While the commission was engaged in
drawing up its report, the paper-war and the recriminations continued with-
out interruption. The Cordeliers excluded Camille-Desmoulins from their
society. They prepared fresh petitions in behalf of Ronsin and Vincent,
and submitted them to the Jacobins, for the purpose of inducing the latter to
support them in the Convention. That host of adventurers and men of bad
character with whom the revolutionary army had been filled, appeared every-
where, in the promenades, the taverns, the coffee-houses, the theatres, with
worsted epaulettes and mustaches, and made a great noise in favour of Ron-
sin, their general, and Vincent, their minister. They were called the
epauletiers, and were much dreaded in Paris. Since the enactment of the
law which forbade the sections to assemble oftener than twice a week, they
had transformed themselves into very turbulent popular societies. There
were even two of these societies to each section, and it was to them that all
the parties which had any interest in producing a movement sent their
agents. The epauletiers had not failed to attend them, and through their
means tumult prevailed in almost all these assemblies.
Robespierre, always firm at the Jacobins, caused the petition of the Corde-
liers to be rejected, and also the affiliation to be withdrawn from all the
popular societies formed since the 31st of May. These were acts of a pru-
dent and laudable energy. It behoved the committee, however, at the same
time that it was making the greatest efforts to repress the turbulent faction, to
beware of giving itself the appearance of weakness and moderation. In
order that it might retain its popularity and its strength, it was necessary
that it should display the same vigour. Hence it was that, on the 5th
Nivose, Robespierre was directed to make a new report on the principles of
the revolutionary government, and to propose measures of severity agalMt
certain illustrious prisoners. Always making a point, from policy and per-
haps too from error, to throw the blame of all disorders upon the supposed
foreign faction, he imputed to it the faults both of the moderates and of the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 42)
ultra-revolutionists. "The foreign courts," said he, " have vomited forth
upon France the clever scoundrels whom they keep in their pay. They
deliberate in our administrations, introduce themselves into our sectional
assemblies and our clubs ; they have even sat in the national representation ;
they direct and will forever direct the counter-revolution upon the same plan.
They hover round us, they acquire our secrets, they flatter our passions, nay
they seek to dictate our very opinions." Robespierre, proceeding with this
delineation, exhibited them as instigating by turns to exaggeration and weak-
ness, exciting religious persecution in Paris, and the resistance of fanaticism
in La Vendee ; sacrificing Lepelletier and Marat, and then mingling among
the groups which proposed to decree divine honours to them in order to
render them odious and ridiculous ; giving to or taking away bread from the
people ; causing specie to appear or disappear, taking advantage, in short,
of all accidents, with a view to turn them against the Revolution and France.
-After presenting this general summary of all our calamities, Robespierre
determined not to consider them as inevitable, imputed them to the foreign
enemy, who no doubt had reason to congratulate himself upon them, but
who to prpduce them reckoned upon the vices of human nature, and could
not have attained the same end by means of plots. Robespierre, consider-
ing all the illustrious prisoners still in confinement as accomplices of the
coalition, proposed to send them immediately to the revolutionary tribunal.
Thus Dietrich, mayor of Strasburg, Custine junior, Biron, and all the offi-
cers who were friends of Dumouriez, of Custine, and of Houchard, were
to be forthwith brought to trial. Most certainly there was no need of a
decree of the Convention to authorize the sacrifice of these victims by the
revolutionary tribunal ; but this solicitude to hasten their execution was a
proof that the government was not growing feeble. Robespierre proposed,
moreover, to increase, by one-third, the rewards in land promised to the
defenders of the country.
After this report, Barrere was directed to prepare another on the arrests,
which were said to be more and more numerous every day, and to propose
means for verifying the motives of these arrests. The object of this report
was to reply, without appearing to do so, to the Vieux Cordelier of Camille-
Desmoulins, and to his proposal for a committee of clemency. Barrere was
severe upon the Translations of the Ancient Orators, and nevertheless
suggested the appointment of a commission to verify the arrests, which very
nearly resembled the committee of clemency devised by Camille. How-
ever, on the observations of some of its members, the Convention deemed
it right to adhere to its previous decrees, winch required the revolutionary
committees to furnish the committee of general welfare with the motives of
the arrests, and allowed prisoners to complain to the latter committee.
The government thus steered its course between the two parties that were
forming, secretly inclining to the moderate party, but still fearful of suffer-
ing this disposition to be too perceptible. Meanwhile, Camille published a
number more severe than any which had preceded it, and which was ad-
dressed to the Jacobins. It was entitled his defence, and it was the boldest
and most terrible recrimination against his adversaries.
On the subject of his exclusion from the Cordeliers, he said, " Forgive
me, brethren and friends, if I still presume to take the title of Old Cordelier.
after the resolution of the club, which forbids me to deck myself with that
name. But, in truth, it is a piece of insolence so unheard-of, that of grand-
children revolting' against their grandsire, and forbidding him to use his own
name, that I must plead this cause against those ungrateful sons. I should
2N
422 HISTORY OF THE
like to know to whom the name ought to belong, whether to the grandpapa
or to the children whom he has begotten, not a tenth part of whom he has
ever acknowledged, or even known, and who pretend to drive him from the
paternal home !"
He then enters into an explanation of his opinions. " The vessel of the
republic is steering between two shoals, the rock of exaggeration, and the
sandbank of moderatism. Seeing that Father Duchesne and almost all the
patriotic sentinels were on deck, spying-glass in hand, wholly engaged in
shouting ' Beware, lest you get aground upon moderatism !' I thought it
rittfhg that I, an old Cordelier, and senior of the Jacobins, should assume
a difficult duty, and which none of the younger men would undertake,
lest they should injure their popularity, that of crying • Beware, lest you
strike upon exaggeration !' And this is the obligation which all my col-
leagues in the Convention ought tg feel that they owe me, namely, that of
having risked my popularity itself, in order to save the ship in which my
cargo was not larger than their own."
He then justified himself for this expression, for which he had been so
vehemently reproached, Vincent Pitt governs George Bouchotte. " 1 cer-
tainly did," said he, "in 1787, call Louis XVI. my fat booby of a king,
without being sent to the Bastille for it. Is Bouchotte a more illustrious
personage ?"
He then reviewed his adversaries. To Collot-d'Herbois he said that if
he, Desmoulins, had his Dillon, he, Collot, had his Brunet, his Proly, both
of whom he had defended. He said to Barrere, •« People no longer know
one another at the Mountain; if it had been an old Cordelier, like myself,
a rectilinear patriot, Billaud-Varennes for example, who had scolded me so
severely, susti.missem utique ; — I would have said, It is the box on the ear
given by the impetuous St. Paul to the good St. Peter, who has done some-
thing wrong! But thou, my dear Barrere, thou, the happy guardian of
Pamela 1* thou, the president of the Feuillans ! thou, who proposedst the
committee of twelve ! thou, who, on the 2d of June, didst submit for delibe-
ration in the committee of public welfare the question whether Danton
should be arrested ! thou, many more of whose faults I could reveal, if I
were to rummage the old sack (le vieux saci), that thou shouldst all at once
out-Robespierre Robespierre, and that I should be so severely apostrophized
by thee !"
"All this is but a family quarrel," adds Camille, "with my friends, the
patriots Collot and Barrere, but I shall in my turn put myself into a thun-
dering passion [bougrcment en colere%) with Father Duchesne, who calls me
a paltry intriguer, a scoundrel fit for the guillotine, a co)i.spirator u-ho
uishes the prisons to be opened in order to make a neiv Vendee with t!<
■ i knave in the pay of Pitt, a long-eared donkey. Wait for me. He1
and I will he at thee in a moment. Here it is not with coarse abuse and
mere words that I will attack thee, but with facts."
Camille, who had been accused by Hebert of having married a wealthy
woman, and of dining with aristocrats, then entered into the history of his
marriage, which brought him an income of four thousand livns, and he
drew a picture of his simple, modest, and indolent life. Then, passing to
• This is an allusion to the play of Pamela, the representation of which had been pro-
hibited.
■(• Barrere's name when a noble was de Vieiuc-Sac.
t An expression of the hawkers, who, in selling the papers of Father Duchesne, cried in
the streets, // at bougrement en colire le Pere Duchesne.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 423
Hebert, he reminded him of his old trade of chock-taker, of his thefts, which
caused his expulsion from tlie theatre, of his sudden and well-known fortune,
ami covered him with the most deserved infamy. He related and proved
that Bouchotte had given Hebert out of the funds of the war department,
first one hundred and twenty thousand francs, then ten, then sixty, for the
copies ef Father Duchesne distributed among the armies, though those
copies were not worth more than sixteen thousand francs, and that conse-
quently the nation had been robbed of the surplus.
" Two hundred thousand francs," exclaims Camille, " to that poor sans-
calotte Hebert, to support the motions of Proly and of Clootz ! — two hun-
dred thousand francs to calumniate Danton, Lindet, Cambon, Thuriot,
Lacroix, Philipeaux, Bourdon of the Disc, Barras, Freron, d'Eglantine,
Legendre, Camille-Desmoulins, and almost all the commissioners of the
Convention ! — to inundate France with his writings, so proper for forming
the inind and the heart ! — two hundred thousand francs from Bouchotte !
.... After this, can any one be surprised at Hcbert's filial exclamation in the
sitting of the Jacobins, To dare to attack Bouchotte! — Bouchotte, who has
placed sans-culotte generals at the head of armies! — Bouchotte, so pure a
patriot ! I am only astonished that, in the transport of his gratitude, Father
Duchesne did not exclaim, ' Bouchotte, who has given me two hundred
thousand livres since the month of June !'
" Thou talkest to me," proceeds Camille, " of the company I keep : but
is it not known tl>at it is with Kock, the banker, the intimate of Dumouriez,
witli the woman Rochechouart, agent of the emigrants, that the stanch patriot
Hebert, after calumniating in his paper the purest men of the republic, goes
in his great joy, he and his Jaqueline, to spend the fine days of summer in
the country, to swallow Pitt's wine, and to drink bumpers to the ruin of the
reputation of the founders of liberty ?"
Camille then reproaches Hebert with the style of his paper. " Knowest
thou not, Hebert, that, when the tyrants of Europe wish to make their
slaves believe that France is covered with darkness and barbarism, that this
Paris, so extolhpd for its attic wit and its taste, is peopled with Vandals ;
knowest thou not, wretch, that it is scraps of thy paper which they insert in
their gazettes ? as if the people were as ignorant as thou wouldst make Pitt
believe ; as if they could not be talked to but in so coarse a language ; as if
that were the language of the Convention and of the committee of public
welfare ; as if thy obscenities were those of the nation ; as if a sewer of
Paris were the Seine."
Camille then accuses him of having added by his Numbers to the scan-
dals of the worship of reason, and afterwards exclaims : " Is it then this
base sycophant, who pockets two hundred thousand livres, that shall reproach
me witli my wife's income of four thousand livres? Is it this intimate
friend of the Kocks, the Rochechouarts, that shall reproach me with the
company I keep? Is it this insensate or perfidious scribbler that shall re-
proach me with my aristocratic writings — he whose papers I will prove to
be the delight of Coblentz and the only hope of Pitt ! that man, struck out
of the list of the servants of the theatre for thefts, pretend to pet deputies,
the immortal founders of the republic, struck out of the list of the Jacobins,
for their opinions ? This writer for the shambles to be the arbiter of opi-
nion— the Mentor of the French people !
'• Let them despair," adds ('amille-I)cmotdins, " of intimidating me by
the terrors and the rumours nl" my arrest, which they are circulating around
me! We know that the villains are meditating a 31st of May against the
424 HISTORY OF THE
most energetic men of the Mountain. O my colleagues, I shall say to you,
like Brutus and Cicero, ' We are too much afraid of death, and exile and
poverty !' nimium timemus mortem et cxilium et panpertatem ....
What! when twelve hundred thousand Frenchmen are daily storming re-
doubts which are bristling with the most formidable artillery, and flying
from victory to victory, shall we, deputies to the Convention — we who can
never fall like the soldier, in the obscurity of night, shot in the dark, and
without witnesses of his valour — we, whose death for the sake of liberty
cannot but be glorious, solemn, and in presence of the whole nation, of
Europe, and of posterity — shall we be more cowardly than our soldiers !
shall we be afraid to look Bouchotte in the face ? shall we not dare to en-
counter the vehement wrath of Father Duchesne, in order likewise to gain the
victory which the people expect of us, the victory over the ultra-revolution-
ists as well as over the counter-revolutionists ; the victory over all the intri-
guers, over all the rogues, over all the ambitious, over all the enemies of the
public welfare !
" Will any one suppose that even upon the scaffold, supported by the deep
feeling that I have passionately loved my country and the republic, crowned
with the esteem and the regret of all genuine republicans, I would exchange
my lot for the fortune of that wretch, Hebert, who, in his paper, drives
twenty classes of citizens to revolt and to despair ; who, to smother his re-
morse and the memory of his calumnies, needs an intoxication more pro-
found than that of wine, and must be incessantly lapping blood at the foot
of the guillotine ! What is then the scaffold for a patriot but the pecL
of a Sidney, and of a John de Witt !"* What is — in this time of war, in
which I have had my two brothers cut in pieces for liberty — what is the
guillotine but the stroke of a sabre, and the most glorious of all for a deputy,
the victim of his courage and of his republicanism !"
These pages will convey an idea of the manners of the time. The
roughness, the sternness, the eloquence of Rome and Athens had reappeared
among us along with democratic liberty.
This new, Number of Camille-Desmoulins's paper produced a still stronger
sensation than its predecessors. Hebert did not cease to denounce him at
the Jacobins, and to demand the report of the commission. At length, on
the 16th Nivose, Collot-d'Herbois rose to make that report. The concourse
was as considerable as on the day when the discussion began, and seats were
sold at a high price. Collot showed more impartiality than could have been
expected from a friend of Ronsin. He reproached Philipeaux for implicating
the committee of public welfare in his accusations ; for showing the most
favourable dispositions towards suspected persons; tor speaking of Biron
with commendation, while he loaded Rossignol with abuse ; and lastly, for
expressing precisely the same preferences as the aristocrats. He brought
forward another reproach against him, which, under the circumstances, had
some weight; namely, that, in his last publication, he had withdrawn the
accusations at first preferred against General Fabre-Fond, the brother of
Fabre d'Eglantine. Philipeaux, who was not acquainted either with Fabre
or Camille, had in fact denounced the brother of the former, whom he con-
ceived that he had found in fault in La Vendue. When brought into contact
with Fabre by his position, and accused with him, he had, from a very na-
tural delicacy, suppressed the censures passed upon his brother. This alone
• " John de Witt, the able statesman, and grand pensioner of Holland, wai torn to piecea
by a factious mob in the year 1672." £.
French Devolution. 425
proved that they had been led separately, and without knowing one another,
to act as they had done, and that they formed no real faction. But party
spirit judged otherwise ; and Collot insinuated thai there existed a secret
intrigue, a concert between the persons accused of moderation. He ran
sacked the past, and reproached Philipeaux with Ins votes upon Louis XVI
and upon Marat. As for Camille, he treated him niueli more favourably
He represented him as a good patriot led astray by bad company, who ought
to he forgiven, but at the same time, exhorted not to indulge in future in such
mental debaucheries. He therefore proposed the exclusion of Philipeaux,
and the mere reprimand of Camille.
At this moment Camille, who was present at the sitting, caused a letter to
be handed to the president, declaring that his defence was inserted in his last
number, and begging that the society would permit it to be read. On this
proposition, Hebert, who dreaded the reading of that number, in which the
disgraceful transactions of his life were revealed, addressed the society, and
said that there was an evident intention to complicate the discussion by slan-
dering him, and that to divert attention, it had been alleged that he had
robbed the treasury, which was an atrocious falsehood "I have the
documents in my hands," exclaimed Camille. These words caused a great
agitation. Robespierre the younger then said that the society ought to put
a stop to all personal discussions ; that it had not met for the interest of pri-
vate character, and that, if Hebert had been a thief, that was of no conse-
quence to it; that those who had reason to reproach themselves ought not to
interrupt the general discussion. At these far from satisfactory expressions,
Hebert exclaimed, "I have nothing to reproach myself with." — "The dis-
turbances in the departments," resumed Robespierre the younger, " are thy
work. It is thou who hast contributed to excite them by attacking the free-
dom of worship." To this charge Hebert made no reply. Robespierre the
elder then spoke, and, being more guarded than his brother, but not more
favourable to Hebert, said that Collot had presented the question in its pro-
per point of view ; that an unfortunate incident had disturbed the dignity of
the discussion ; that all had been in the wrong — Hebert, and those who had
replied to him. " What I am about to say," added he, " is not levelled at
any individual. He complains with an ill grace of calumny, who has him-
self calumniated. Those should not complain of injustice who have judged
others with levity, precipitation, and fury. Let every one question his own
conscience, and apply these reflections to himself. It was my wish to pre-
vent the present discussion. I wished that, in private interviews, in friendly
conferences, each should explain himself, and acknowledge his mistakes.
Then harmony might have been restored, and scandal spared. But no such
thing — pamphlets have been circulated on the morrow, and people have been
anxious to produce effect. Now, all that is of importance to us in these per-
sonal quarrels is not to know whether passions and injustice have been every-
where mingled with them, but whether the charges preferred by Philipeaux
against the men who direct the most important of our wars are well-founded.
This is what ought to be ascertained for the benefit, not of the individuals,
but of the republic."
Robespierre actually diought that it was useless to discuss die accusations
of CamUle against Hebert, for everybody knew that they were true : that.
s, they contained nothing that the republic had an interest in verify-
ing; but diat, on the contrary, it was of great illipni IsWf < to investigate the
conduct of the generals in La Vendue. The discussions relative to Phi-
lipeaux were accordingly continued. The whole sitting was devoted to
voi-. ii. — 54 2 n 2
426 HISTORY OF THE
the examination of a great number of eye-witnesses ; but, amidst these con-
tradictory affirmations, Danton and Robespierre declared that they could not
discover anything, and that they know not what to think, of the matter. The
discussion, which was already too long, was adjourned to the next sitting.
On the 18th, the subject was resumed. Philipeaux was absent. Weary
of the discussion relative to him, and which led to no eclaircissement, the
society then proceeded to the investigation concerning Camille-Desmoulins.
He was required to explain himself on the subject of the praises which he
had bestowed on Philipeaux, and his relations with him. Camille declared
that he did not know him; circumstances affirmed by Goupiller and Bourdon
had at first persuaded him that Philipeaux told the truth ; but now, perceiv-
ing from the discussion that Philipeaux distorted the truth (which began, in
fact, to be everywhere apparent), he retracted his praise, and declared that he
had no longer any opinion on this subject.
Robespierre, again addressing the society on the question relative to Ca-
mille, repeated what he had already said concerning him, that his character
was excellent, but that this well-known character did not give him a right to
employ his pen against the patriots ; that his writings were the delight of
the aristocrats, by whom they were devoured, and circulated in all the de-
partments ; that he had translated Tacitus without understanding him ; that
he ought to be treated like a thoughtless child which has played with dan-
gerous weapons and made a mischievous use of them ; that he must he ex-
horted to forsake the aristocrats and the bad company that corrupted him ;
and that, in pardoning him, they ought to burn his Numbers. Camille,
unmindful of the forms of respect which it behoved him to observe towards
the proud Robespierre, then exclaimed from his place : •« Burning is not
answering." — " Well, then," resumed the irritated Robespierre, " let us not
burn, but answer. Let Camille's Numbers be immediately read. Since he
will have it so, let him be covered with ignominy ; let not the society restrain
its indignation, since he persists in defending his diatribes and his dangerous
principles. The man who clings so tenaciously to perfidious writings is per-
haps more than misled. Had he been sincere, he would have written in the
simplicity of his heart; he would not have dared to support any longer works
condemned by the patriots and sought after by the counter-revolutionists.
His is but a borrowed courage. It reveals the hidden persons under whose
dictation Camille has written his journal ; it reveals that he is the organ of
a villanous faction, which has borrowed his pen to circulate its poison with
greater boldness and certainty."
Camille in vain begged permission to speak, that he might pacify R
pierre ; the society refused to hear him and Immediately proceeded to the
reading of his papers. Whatever delicacy individuals are resolved to observe
towards one another in party quarrels, it is difficult to prevent pride from
very soon interfering. With the susceptibility of Robespierre and the natural
waywardness of Camille, the division of opinions could not fail soon to
change into a division of self-love and into hatred. Robespierre felt too
much contempt for Hehert and his partisans to quarrel with them ; but he
could quarrel with a writer so celebrated in the Revolution as Camille-Des-
moulins ; and the latter did not use sufficient address to avoid a rupture.
The reading of Camille's Numbers occupied two whole sittings. The
society then passed on to Fabre. He was questioned, and urged to say what
hand he had had in the new publications which had been circulated. He
replied that he had not written a syllable for them, and as tor Philipeaux and
Bourdon of the Oise, he could declare that he was not acquainted with them
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 427
It was proposed to come to some decision relative to the four denounced
persons. Robespierre, though no longer disposed to spare Camille, moved
that the discussion should drop there, ami that the society should pass to a
more important subject, B subject more worthy of its attention, and more
useful to the public mind, namely, the vices and the crimes of the English
government. "That atrocious government," said he, "disguises, under
sonic appearance of liberty, an atrocious principle of despotism and Machi-
avelism. It behoves us to denounce it to its own people, and to reply to its
calumnies by proving its vices of organization and its misdeeds." The
Jacobins were well pleased with this subject, which opened so vast a field to
their accusing imagination, hut some of them wished first to strike out Phi-
lipeaux, Camille, Bourdon, and Fabre. One voice even accused Robespierre
of arrogating to himself a sort of dictatorship. " My dictatorship," he ex-
claimed, is that of .Marat and Lepelletier. It consists in being exposed every
day to the daggers of the tyrants. But I am weary of the disputes which are
daily arising in the bosom of the society, and which are productive of no
beneficial result. Our real enemies are the foreigners; it is they whom we
Ought to follow up, and whose plots it behoves to unveil." Robespierre,
in consequence, repeated his motion ; and it was decided, amidst applause,
that the society, setting aside the disputes which had arisen between indi-
viduals, should devote the succeeding sittings, without interruption, to the
-ion of the vices of the English government.
This was throwing out a seasonable diversion to the restless imagination
of the Jacobins, and directing it towards a party that was likely to occupy it
for a long time. Philipeaux had already retired without awaiting a decision.
Camille and Bourdon were neither excluded nor confirmed; they were no
longer mentioned, and they merely ceased attending the meetings of the
society. As for Fabre d'Eglantine, though Chabot had completely justified
him, yet the facts which were daily coming to the knowledge of the com-
mittee of general welfare left no doubt whatever of his intrigues. It could
therefore do no other than issue an order for his arrest, and connect him
with Chabot, Bazire, Delaunay, and Julien of Toulouse.
All these discussions produced an impression injurious to the new mode-
rates. There was no sort of unanimity among them. Philipeaux, formerly
almost a Girondin, was not acquained with either Camille, Fabre, or Bour-
don ; Camille alone was intimate with Fabre ; but, as for Bourdon, he
was an utter stranger to the other three. But it was thenceforward
imagined that there was a secret faction, of which they were either accom-
or dupes. The easy disposition and the epicurean habits of Camille,
and two or three dinners which he had taken with the wealthy financiers of
the time ; the proved implication of Fabre with the stockjobbers, and his
recent opulence; caused it to be supposed that they were connected widi
the so-called corrupting faction. People durst not yet designate Danton :us
being its leader; but, if he was not accused in a public manner, if Ilebert in
his paper, and the Cordeliers in their tribune, spared this powerful revolu-
tionist, they said to one another what they durst not publish.
person most injurious to the party was Lacroix, whose peculations
in Belgium were so clearly demonstrated, that any one might impute them
to him without being accused of calumny, and without his daring to reply,
i e associated bun with the moderates, on account of his former con-
: i with Danton, and he caused them to share his shame,
The Cordeliers, dissatisfied that the Jacobins had passed from the de-
nounced persons to the order of the day, declared — 1. That Philipeaux w is
488 HISTORY OF THE
a slanderer; 2. That Bourdon, the pertinacious accuser of Ronsin, Vincent,
and the war-office, had lost their confidence, and was, in their estimation,
but an accomplice of Philipeaux ; 3. That Fabre, holding the same senti-
ments of Bourdon and Philipeaux, was only a more cunning intriguer ;
4. That Camille, already excluded from their ranks, had also lost their
confidence, though he had formerly rendered important services to the Revo-
lution.
Ronsin and Vincent, having been confined for some time, were set at
liberty, as there was not sufficient cause for bringing them to trial. I;
impossible to prosecute Ronsin for what he had done in La Vendee, lor the
events of that war were covered with a thick veil ; or for what he had done
at Lyons, for that would be raising a dangerous question, and accusing at
the same time Collot-d'Herbois and the whole existing system of govern-
ment. It was just as impossible to prosecute Vincent for certain despotic
proceedings in the war-office. It was to a political trial only that either of
them could have been brought ; and it was not yet politic to institute such ■
trial for them. They were therefore enlarged, to the great joy of the Cor-
deliers, and of all the epauletiers of the revolutionary army.
Vincent was a young man of twenty and some odd years, whose fanaticism
amounted to disease, and in whom there was more of insanity than of per-
sonal ambition. One day, when his wife had gone to see him in his pn
and was relating to him what had passed, irritated at what she told hiin, In-
snatched up a piece of raw meat, and said, while chewing it, " Thus would
I devour all those villains !" Ronsin, by turns an indifferent pamphleteer,
a contractor, and a general, combined with considerable intelligence remark-
able courage and great activity. Naturally ambitious, he was the most
distinguished of those adventurers who had offered themselves as instru-
ments of the new government. Commander of the revolutionary army, he
considered how that post might be rendered available, either for his own
benefit, or for the triumph of his system and of his friends. In the pi
of the Luxembourg, in which he and Vincent were confined, they had
always talked like masters. They had never ceased to say that they should
triumph over intrigue; that they should be released by the aid of their parti-
sans; that they would then go and enlarge the. patriots who were in confine-
ment, and send all the other prisoners to the guillotine. They had been I
torment to all the unfoitunate creatures shut up with them, and had left them
full of consternation.
No sooner were they liberated, than they loudly declared that they would
be revenged, and that they would soon have satisfaction on their enemies.
The committee of public welfare could scarcely have done otherwise than
release them ; but it soon perceived that it had let loose two furies, and that
it behoved it to take immediate steps to prevent them from doing mischief.
Four thousand men of the revolutionary army were still left in Paris.
Among these were adventurers, thieves, and Septembrisers, who assumed
the mask of patriotism, and who liked much better to make booty in the
interior than to go to the frontiers to encounter poverty, hardship, and dan-
ger. These petty tyrants, with their moustaches ami their long BWOfdl,
exercised the harshest despotism in all the public places. Having artillery.
ammunition, and an enterprising commander, they might become dangerous.
With these associated the firebrands who filled Vincent's office. The 1 ,
was their civil, as Ronsin was their military chief. They wen; connected
with the commune through Hcbert, the deputy of Chaumette, and through
Pache, the mayor, who was ever ready to welcome all parties, and to court
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 429
I
all formidable men. Momoro, one of the presidents of the Cordeliers, was
their faithful partisan and their champion at the Jacobins; Thus Konsin,
Vincent, Hebert, Chauinette, and Momoro were classed together; and
Pache and Bouchotte were added to the list as complaisant functionaries,
who winked at their usurpation of two great authorities.
These men had thrown off all restraint in their speeches against those
representatives, who, they Mid, designed to keep the supreme power forever
in their hands, and to forgive the aristocrats. One day, when they were
dining at Pache's, they met Legendre, a friend of Danton, formerly the imi-
tator of his vehemence, now of his reserve, and the victim of that imitation,
for he had to endure the attacks which people dared not make on Danton
himself. Konsin and Vincent addressed offensive expressions to him. Vin-
cent, who had been under obligations to him, embraced him, saying that he
embraced the old and not the new Legendre ; that the new Legendre had
become a moderate and was unworthy of esteem. He then asked him ironi-
cally if, when on mission, he had worn the costume of deputy? Legendre
answered that he had worn it when with the armies. Vincent rejoined that
this dress was very pompous but unworthy of genuine republicans : he
declared that he would dress up a puppet in that costume, call the people
together, and say to them ; " Look here at the representatives that you have
given yourselves ; they preach equality to you, and cover themselves with
gold and feathers ;" and he added that he would then set fire to it. Legen-
dre replied that he was a seditious madman. They were ready to proceed
to blows, to the great alarm of Pache. Legendre applied to Ronsin, and
begged him to pacify Vincent. Ronsin answered that Vincent was indeed
rather warm, but that his character was suited to circumstances, and that
such men were requisite for the times in which they lived. " You have a
faction in the bosom of the Assembly," added Ronsin; " if you do not expel
it, you shall be called to account by us." Legendre retired full of indigna-
tion, and repeated all that he had seen and heard at this dinner. The con-
versation became generally known, and furnished a new proof of the audacity
and frenzy of the two men who had just been released from confinement.
They expressed the highest respect for Pache and for his virtues, as the
Jacobins had formerly done when Pache was minister. It was Pache's luck
to charm all the violent spirits by his mildness and complaisance. They
were delighted to see their passions approved by a man who had all the
semblance of wisdom. The new revolutionists meant, they said, to make
him a conspicuous personage in their government : for, without having any
precise aim, without having yet the design of, or the courage for, an insur-
rection, they talked a great deal, after the example of all those plotters who
make their first experiments and inflame themselves with words. They
everywhere declared that France wanted other institutions. All that pleased
them in the actual organization of the government was the revolutionary
tribunal and army. They had therefore devised a constitution, consisting
of a supreme tribunal, having a chief judge for president, and a military
council directed by a generalissimo. Under this government, all matters,
judicial or administrative, were to be conducted militarily. The generalis-
simo and the chief judge were to be the highest functionaries. To the
tribunal was to be attached a grand accuser, with the title of censor, em-
powered to direct prosecutions. Thus, in this scheme, framed in a moment
of revolutionary ferment, the two essential, nay the only functions, were to
condemn and to fight. It is not known whether this plan originated with a
single dreamer in a fit of delirium, or with several such persons ; whether it
430 HISTORY OF THE
had existence in their talk only or whether it had heen committed to writing;
but so much is certain that its model was to be found in the revolutionary com-
missions established at Lyons, Marseilles, Toulon, Bordeaux, Nantes, and
that, with their imaginations full of what they had done in these great cities,
those terrible executioners proposed to govern all France on the same plan,
and to make the violence of a day the model of a permanent government.
As yet they had designated but one of the persons destined for the higfu >t
dignities. Pache was wonderfully fitted for the post of grand judge; the
conspirators therefore said that he was to be and that he should be
Without knowing the nature of the scheme or of the dignity, many people
repeated as a piece of news : " Pache is to be appointed grand judge." This
report circulated without being explained or understood. As for the dignity
of generalissimo, Ronsin, though general of the revolutionary army, durst
not aspire to it, and its partisans durst not propose him, as a much more
distinguished name was required for such a dignity. Chaumette was also
mentioned by some as censor; but his name had been rarely uttered. Only
one of these reports was generally circulated, namely, that Pache was to be
grand judge.
Throughout the whole revolution, when the long excited passions of a
party were ready to explode, it was always a defeat, a treason, a dearth, in
short some calamity or other, that served them as a pretext for breaking
forth. Such was the case in this instance. The second law of the ma i -'union,
which, going farther back than the retail shops, fixed the value of commodi-
ties on the spot of their fabrication, determined the price of transport, n
lated the profit of the wholesale dealer and that of the retail dealer, had b
passed; but commerce still escaped the despotism of the law in a thousand
ways, and escaped it chiefly in a most disastrous way, by suspending its
operations. The stagnation of trade was as great as before, and if goods w<-re
no longer refused to be exchanged at the price of the assignat, they were
concealed or ceased to move and to be transported to the places of consump-
tion. The dearth was therefore very great, owing to this stagnation of com-
merce. The extraordinary efforts of the government, and the care of the
commission of articles of consumption, had, however, partially succeeded In
diminishing the dearth of corn, and, above all, in diminishing the fear of it,
not less formidable than dearth itself, on account of the derangement and dis-
order which it produces in commercial relations. But a new calamity besjan
to be felt, namely, the want of butcher's meat. La Vendee had formerly
sent a great quantity of cattle to the neighbouring provinces. Since the in-
surrection none had arrived. The departments of the Rhine had ceased to
send cattle too, since the war had fixed itself in that quarter. There w:i-
course a real diminution in the quantity. The butchers, moreover, buying
cattle at a high price, and selling at the maximum price, sought to evade the
law. The best meat was reserved for the rich, or the citizens in easy cir-
cumstances who paid well for it. A great number of clandestine mar:
were established, especially in the environs of Paris, and in the country: and
nothing but the offal was left for the lower classes or the purchaser who
went to the shops and bought at the maximum prices. Thus the butchers
indemnified themselves by the bad quality for the low price at which they
were obliged to sell. The people complained bitterly of the weight, the
quality, ancTthe clandestine markets established about Paris. There was a
scarcity of cattle, so that it had been found necessary to kill cows in calf.
The populace had immediately said that the aristocrat butchers intended to
destroy the species, and demanded the penalty of death against those who
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 431
should kill cows in calf and ewes in lamb. But this was not all. Vegetables,
fruit, eggs, butter, fish, were no longer brought to market. A cabbage cost
twenty SOUS. People went to meet the carts on the road, surrounded them,
and bought their load at any price Few of them reached Paris, when: the
populace awaited them in vain. Wherever there is anything to be done,
hands enough are soon found to undertake it. People were wanted to scour
the country in order to procure meat, and to stop the farmers bringing vege-
tables by the way. A great number of persons of boU\ sexes undertook this
business, and bought up the commodities on account of the rich, by paying
for them more than the maximum price. If there was a market better sup-
plied than the others, these agents hastened thither and took off the commo-
dities at a higher than the fixed price. The lower classes were particularly
incensed against those who followed this profession. It was said that among
the number were many unfortunate women of the town, who had been de-
prived by the measures adopted at the instigation of Chaumette of their de-
plorable means of existence, and who followed this new trade, in order to
earn a livelihood.
To remedy all these inconveniences, the commune had resolved, on the
repeated petitions of the sections, that the butchers should no longer meet the
catde or go beyond the ordinary markets ; that they should not kill anywhere
but in the authorized slaughter-houses ; that meat should be sold only in the
shambles ; that no person should any longer be permitted to stop the farmers
by the way ; that those who arrived should be directed by the police, and
equally distributed among the different markets ; that people should not go to
wait at the butchers' doors before six o'clock, for it frequenUy happened that
they rose at three for this purpose.
These multiplied regulations could not save the people from the evils
which they were enduring. The ultra-revolutionists tortured their imagina-
tion to devise expedients. A last idea had occurred to them, namely, that
the pleasure-grounds abounding in the suburbs of Paris, and particularly in
the fauxbourg St. Germain, might be brought into cultivation. The com-
mune, which refused them nothing, had immediately ordered a list of these
pleasure-grounds, and decided that, as soon as the list was made out, they
should be planted with potatoes and culinary vegetables. They conceived,
moreover, that, as vegetables, milk, poultry, were not brought to town as
usual, the cause of this was to be imputed to the aristocrats who had retired
to their seats around Paris. It was actually the case that many persons had,
in alarm, concealed themselves in their country-houses. The sections came
and proposed to the commune to pass a resolution, or to demand a law, com-
pelling them to return. Chaumette, however, feeling that this would be too
odious a violation of individual liberty, contented himself with making a
threatening speech against the aristocrats who had retired to their seats around
Paris. He merely addressed to them an invitation to return to the city, and
exhorted the village municipalities to watch them closely.
Meanwhile, impatience of the evil was at its height. The disorder in the
markets increased. Tumults were raised there every moment. People
crowded around the butchers' shops, and, in spite of the prohibition logo'
thither before a certain hour, they were as eager as ever to get before one
another. They had there introduced a practice which had originated at the
doors of the bakers, namely, to fasten a cord to the door of the shop ; each
comer laid hold of it, in order to secure his turn. But here, as at the bakers'
doors, mischievous persons, or those who had a bad place, cut the cord, a
432 HISTORY OF THE
general confusion ensued among the waiting crowd, and they were ready to
come to blows.
People knew no longer whom to blame. They could not complain, as
they had done before the 31st of May, that the Convention refused a law of
maximum, the object of all hopes, for the Convention granted everything.
Unable to devise any new expedient, they applied to it for nothing. Still
they could not help complaining. The epauletiers, Bouchotte's clerks, and
the Cordeliers, alleged that the moderate faction in the Convention was the
cause of the dearth; that Camille-Desmoulins, Philipeaux, Bourdon of the
Oise, and their friends, were the authors of the prevailing evils ; that it was
impossible to exist any longer in that manner, and that extraordinary means
must be resorted to ; and they added the old expression of all the insurrec-
tions, We want a leader. They then mysteriously whispered one another,
Pache is to be grand judge.
However, though the new party had very considerable means at its dis-
posal, though it had the revolutionary army and a dearth, it had neither the
government nor public opinion in its favour, for the Jacobins were adverse
to it. Ronsin, Vincent, and Hebert, were obliged to profess an apparent
respect for the established authorities, to keep their designs secret, and to
plot in the dark. On the contrary, the conspirators of the 10th of August,
and the 31st of May, masters of the commune, of the Cordeliers, of the Ja-
cobins, and of all the clubs ; having numerous and energetic partizans in the
National Assembly and in the committees ; daring to conspire in secret ;
could publicly draw the populace along in their train and employ masses for
the execution of their plots. But the party of the ultra-revolutionists was
not in the same predicament.
The reigning authority refused none of the extraordinary means of defence
or even of vengeance. Treasons no longer accused its vigilance ; victories
on all the frontiers attested, on the contrary, its energy, its abilities, and its
zeal. Consequently, those who attacked this authority, and promised nei-
ther superior abilities, nor superior zeal to those which it displayed, were
intriguers who aimed at some end, either of disorder or ambition. Such
was the public conviction, and the conspirators could not flatter themselves
that the people would go along with them. Thus, though formidable,
if they were suffered to act, they were far from being so if timely checked.
The committee watched them, and it continued, by a series of reports, to
throw discredit on the two opposite parties. In the ultra-revolutionists it
beheld conspirators to be destroyed ; in the moderates, on the contrary, it
only perceived old friends who held the same opinions with itself, and whose
patriotism it could not suspect. But, that it might avoid the appearance of
weakness, in striking the revolutionists, it was obliged to condemn the mode-
rates, and to appeal incessantly to terror. The latter replied. Camille pub-
lished fresh numbers. Danton and his friends combated in conversation the
reasons of the committee, and a war of writings and words commenced.
Rancour ensued; and St. Just, Robespierre, Barrere, Billaud, who had at
first discouraged the moderates from policy alone, and that they might be
stronger for it against the ultra-revolutionists, began to persecute them from
personal spleen and from hatred. Camille had, as we have seen, already
attacked Collot and Barrere. In his letter to Dillon, he had addressed to
the dogmatic fanaticism of St. Just, and to the monastic harshness of Billaud,
pleasantries which had deeply wounded them. He had, lastly, irritated
Robespierre at the Jacobins, and, though he had highly praised him, he had
finished by estranging himself from him entirely. Danton was far from
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 433
agreeable to all of them, on account of his high reputation ; and now that he
had retired from the direction of affairs, that he remained in seclusion,* cen-
suring the government, and appearing to excite Camille's caustic and gossip-
ing pen,t he could not fail to become more odious to' them every day ; and
it was not to be supposed that Robespierre would again run any risk to de-
fend them.
Robespierre and St. Just — who were accustomed to draw up in the name
of the committee the expositions of principles, and who were charged in
some measure with the moral department of the government, while Barrere,
Carnot, Billaud, and others, directed the material and administrative depart-
ment— Robespierre and St. Just made two reports, one on the moral princi-
ciples which ought to guide the revolutionary government, the other on
the imprisonments of which Camille had complained in the " Old Cordelier."
We must show what sort of conceptions those two gloomy spirits formed
of the revolutionary government, and of the means of regenerating a state.
The principle of democratic government is virtue, said Robespierre, and
its engine while establishing itself, is terror. We desire to substitute, in
our country, morality for selfishness, probity for honour, principles for
usages, duties for decorums, the empire of reason for the tyranny of fashion,
the contempt of vice for the contempt of poverty, pride for insolence, great-
ness of soul for vanity, the love of glory for the love of money, good men
for good company, merit for intrigue, genius for wit, truth for show, the
charm of genuine happiness for the ennui of pleasure, the greatness of man
for the littleness of the great, a magnanimous, powerful, and happy people,
for an amiable, frivolous, and wretched people— that is to say, all the vir-
tues and all the miracles of the republic for all the vices and all the absurdi-
ties of the monarchy.
To attain this aim there was required an austere, energetic government,
which should overcome resistance of all kinds. There was, on the one
hand, brutal, greedy ignorance, which desired in the republic nothing but
convulsions ; on the other, base and cowardly corruption, which coveted all
the gratifications of the ancient luxury, and which could not resolve to
embrace the energetic virtues of democracy. Hence there arose two fac-
tions ; the one striving to carry everything beyond due bounds, and, by way
of attacking superstition, to destroy the belief of God himself, and to spill
torrents of blood, upon pretext of avenging the republic ; the other, which,
weak and vicious, did not feel itself virtuous enough to be so terrible, and
softly deplored all the necessary sacrifices which the establishment of virtue
demanded. One of these factions, said St. Just, wanted to change Liberty
into a Bacchante, the other into a Prostitute.
Robespierre and St. Just recapitulated the follies of some of the agents of
the revolutionary government, and of two or three procureurs of communes,
who had pretended to renew the energy of Marat, and in so doing they
alluded to all the extravagances of Hebert and his partizans. They then
enumerated all the faults of weakness, complaisance, and sensibility, imputed
to the new moderates. They reproached them with their pity for widows
of generals, for intriguing females belonging to the old nobility, for aristo-
• " It was by the advice of Robespierre himself that Danton retired into seclusion. u A
tempest is brewing," said he ; " the Jacobins have not forgotten your relations with Dumou-
riez. They dislike your manners ; your voluptuous and lazy habits are at variance with
their energy. Withdraw, then, for a season ; trust to a friend who will watch over your
dangers, and warn you of the first moment to return !" — Lacrettlk. E
f Camille's own expression.
vol. ii. — 55 2 O
434 HISTORY OF THE
crats, and with talking continually of the severities of the republic, far infe-
rior to the cruelties of monarchies. " You have one hundred thousand
prisoners," said St. Just, " and the revolutionary tribunal has already con-
demned three hundred criminals. But under the monarchy you had four
hundred thousand prisoners. Fifteen hundred smugglers were annually
hanged, three thousand persons were broken on the wheel, and at this very
day there are in Europe four millions of prisoners, whose moans you do not
hear, while parricidal moderation suffers all the enemies of your government
to triumph ! We load ourselves with reproaches ; and kings, a thousand
times as cruel as we, sleep in crime."
Robespierre and St. Just, conformably with the concerted system, added
that these two factions, opposite in appearance, had one common point, the
foreigner, who instigated them to act for the destruction of the republic.
We see how much there was at once of fanaticism, of policy, and of ani-
mosity in the system of the committee. Camille and his friends were
attacked by allusions and even indirect expressions. In his Vieux Cordelier
he replied to the system of virtue, by the system of happiness. He said that
he loved the republic because it must add to the general felicity; because
commerce, industry, and civilization, were more conspicuously developed at
Athens, Venice, Florence, than in any monarchy; because the republic could
alone realize the lying wish of monarchy, the fowl in the pot. " What
would Pitt care," exclaimed Camille, " whether France were free, if her
liberty served only to carry us back to the ignorance of the ancient Gauls,
to the rude vest which formed their clothing, to their misleto, and to their
houses, which were but kennels of clay? So far from mourning over it,
I dare say Pitt would give a great many guineas that such a liberty were
established among us. But it would make the English government furious
if people could say of France what Dicearchus said of Attica : " Nowhere in
the world can one live more agreeably than at Athens, whether one has mo-
ney, or whether one has none. Those who have acquired wealth by com-
merce or by their industry can there procure all imaginable gratifications ;
and as for those who are striving to do so, there are so many workshops
where they may earn wherewithal to amuse themselves and to lay by some-
thing besides, that they cannot complain of poverty without reproaching
themselves with idleness.
"I think then that liberty does not exist in an equality of privations, and
that the highest praise of the Convention would be if it could bear this
testimony to itself: 'I found the nation without breeches, and I leave it
breeched.'*
"What a charming democracy," adds Camille, "was that of Athens!
Solon was not there considered as a coxcomb ; he was not the less regarded
as the model of legislators, and proclaimed by the Oracle the first of the seven
sages, though he made no difficulty to confess his fondness for wine, women,
and music; and he possesses so firmly established a reputation for wisdom,
that at this day his name is never pronounced in the Convention and at the
Jacobins but as that of the greatest of legislators. But how many are there
among us who have the character of aristocrats and Sybarites, who have not
published such a profession of faith !
" That divine Socrates, one day meeting Alcibiades gloomy and thought-
ful, apparently because he was vexed at a letter of Aspasia, « What ails you?'
• A whimsical parody on the well-known saying applied to Augustus Cesar — namely,
that he found Rome of brick, and left it of marble. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 435
asked the gravest of Mentors. « Have you lost your shield in battle ? — have
you been vanquished in the camp, in the race, or in the hall of arms ? Has
any one surpassed you in singing or playing upon the lyre at the table
of the <rencral ?' This trait delineates manners. What amiable repub-
licans !"
Camille then complained that to the manners of Athens the rulers of France-
would not add the liberty of speech which prevailed in that republic. Aristo-
phanes there represented on the stage the generals, the orators, the philoso-
phers, and the people themselves ; and the people of Athens, sometimes
personated by an old man, at others by a young one, instead of being irritated,
proclaimed Aristophanes conqueror at the games, and encouraged him by
plaudits and crowns. Many of those comedies were directed against the
ultra-revolutionists of those times. The sarcasms in them were most cut-
ting. "And if, at this day," added Camille, "one were to translate any of
those pieces performed four hundred and thirty years before Christ, under
Sthenocles the archon, Hebert would maintain at the Cordeliers that it was
a work of yesterday, an invention of Fabre d'Eglantine against himself and
Ronsin, and that the translator was the cause of the dearth.
" I am, however, wrong," proceeded Camille, in a tone of sadness, " when
I say that men are changed — they have always been the same ; liberty of
speech enjoyed no more impunity in the ancient than in the modern repub-
lics. Socrates, accused of having spoken ill of the gods, drank hemlock.
Cicero, for having attacked Antony, was given up to proscription."
Thus this unfortunate young man seemed to predict that the liberty which
he took would no more be forgiven him than many others. His pleasantries
and his eloquence exasperated the committee. While it kept an eye upon
Ronsin, Hebert, Vincent, and all the agitators, it conceived a violent hatred
against the amiable writer, who laughed at its systems ; against Danton, who
was supposed to prompt that writer ; and, in short, against all those who
were regarded as friends or partisans of those two leaders.
In order not to deviate from its line, the committee presented two decrees,
in consequen.ee of the reports of Robespierre and St. Just, tending, it de-
clared, to render the people happy at the expense of their enemies. By
these decrees the committee of general welfare was alone invested with the
faculty of investigating the complaints of detained persons, and liberating
them if they were acknowledged patriots. All those, on the contrary, who
should be recognised as enemies of the Revolution were to be kept in confine-
ment till the peace, and then banished for ever. Their property, seques-
trated ad interim, was to be divided among the indigent patriots, a list of
whom was to be drawn up by the communes.* This, it is obvious, was the
agrarian law applied to suspected persons for the benefit of the patriots.
These decrees, the conceptions of St. Just, were destined to reply to the
ultra-revolutionists, and to continue to the committee its reputation for
energy.
Meanwhile the conspirators were bestirring themselves with more violence
than ever. There is no proof that their plans were absolutely arranged, or
that they had engaged Pache and the commune in their plot. But they pro-
ceeded as before the 31st of May: they excited the popular societies, the
Cordeliers, and the sections ; they circulated threatening rumours, and sought
to take advantage of the disturbances occasioned by the dearth, which every
day increased and became more severely felt.
• Decree of the 8th and 13th of Ventose.
436 HISTORY OF THE
AH at once there appeared posting bills in the markets and public places,
and pamphlets, declaring that the Convention was the cause of all the suffer-
ings of the people, and that it was necessary to rend from it that dangerous
faction which wanted to re-enact the Bhssotins and their mischievous sys-
tem. Some of these writings even insisted that the whole Convention ought
to be renewed, that it behoved the people to choose a chief, to organize the
executive power, &c. All the ideas, in short, which Vincent, Ronsin, and
Hebert had been revolving in their heads filled these publications and seemed
to betray their origin. At the same time, the epauletiers, more turbulent
and blustering than ever, loudly threatened to go to the prisons and slaughter
the enemies whom the bribed Convention persisted in sparing. They said
that many patriots were unjustly mingled in the prisons with aristocrats, but
that these patriots should be picked out, and liberty and arms given to them
at once. Ronsin, in full uniform as general of the revolutionary army, with
a tricoloured sash, and red plume, and accompanied by some of his officers,
went through the prisons, ordered the registers to be shown him, and
formed lists.
It was now the 15th of Ventose. The section of Marat, the president of
which was Momoro, assembled, and indignant, it said, at the machinations
of the enemies of the people, it declared, en masse, that it was in motion,
that it would place a veil over the declaration of rights, and remain in that
state until provisions and liberty were insured to the people, and its enemies
were punished. In the evening of the same day, the Cordeliers tumultu-
ously assembled : a picture of the sufferings of the people was submitted to
them ; the persecutions recently undergone by the two great patriots, Vin-
cent and Ronsin, were detailed ; and it was said that they were both ill at
the Luxembourg, without being able to procure the attendance of a physician.
The country, in consequence, was declared to be in danger, and a veil was
hung over the declaration of the rights of man. It was in this manner that
all the insurrections had begun with a declaration that the laws were sus-
pended, and that the people had resumed the exercise of its sovereignty.
On the following day, the 16th, the section of Marat and the Cordeliers
waited upon the commune to acquaint it with their resolutions, and to prevail
on it to take similar steps. Pache had taken care not to be present. One
Lubin presided at the general council. He replied to the deputation with
visible embarrassment. He said that, at the moment when the Convention
was taking such energetic measures against the enemies of the Revolution,
and for the succour of the indigent patriots, it was surprising that a signal of
distress should be made, and that the declaration of rights should be veiled.
Then, affecting to justify the general council, as though it had been accused,
Lubin added that the council had made all possible efforts to insure supplies
of provisions and to regulate their distribution. Chaumette, in a speech
equally vague, recommended peace, required the report on the cultivation of
the pleasure grounds, and on the supply of the capital, which, according to
the decrees, was to be provisioned like a fortress in time of war.
Thus the heads of the commune hesitated ; and the movement, though
tumultuous, was not strong enough to hurry them away, and to inspire them
with the courage to betray the committee and the Convention. The disturb-
ance was, nevertheless, great. The insurrection began in the same manner
as all those which had previously occurred, and it was calculated to excite
not less alarm. By an unlucky accident, the committee of public welfare
was deprived at the moment of its most influential members. Billaud-Va-
rennes and Jean-Bon-St. Andre were absent on official business ; Couthon
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 437
and Robespierre were ill, and the latter could not come to govern his faithful
Jacobins. St. .hist and Collot-d'Herbois alone were left to thwart this
attempt. They both repaired to the Convention, the members of which
were assembling tiunultuously and trembling with fear. At their suggestion,
Fouquier-Tinville was immediately summoned, and directed to make imme-
diate search after the distributors of the incendiary publications exhibited in
the markets, the agitators who were inflaming the popular societies, all the
conspirators, in short, who were threatening the public tranquillity. He was
enjoined by a decree to apprehend them immediately, and in three days to
present his report on the subject to the Convention.
It was not doing much to obtain a decree of the Convention, for it had
never refused them against agitators, and it had nevertheless left the Giron-
dins without any against the insurgent commune; but it was requisite to in-
sure the execution of these decrees by gaining the public opinion. Collot,
who possessed great popularity at the Jacobins and the Cordeliers, by his
club eloquence, and still more by the well-known energy of his revolution-
ary sentiments, was charged with the duty of that day, and repaired in haste
to the Jacobins. As soon as they were assembled, he laid before them a
picture of the factions which threatened liberty, and the plots which they
were preparing. "A new campaign is about to open," said he; "the mea-
sures of the committee which so happily terminated the last campaign, were
on the point of insuring fresh victories to the republic. Relying on your
confidence and your approbation, which it has always been its object to de-
serve, it was devoting itself to its duties ; but all at once our enemies have
endeavoured to impede its operations. They have raised the patriots around
it for the purpose of opposing them to it, and making them slaughter one
another. They want to make us soldiers of Cadmus. They want to immo-
late us by the hands of each other. But no ! we will not be soldiers of Cad-
mus ; thanks to your excellent spirit, we will continue friends, we will be
soldiers of liberty alone! Supported by you, the committee will be enabled
to resist with energy, to quell the agitators, to expel them from the ranks of
the patriots, and, after this indispensable sacrifice, to prosecute its labours
and your victories. The post in which you have placed us is perilous,"
adds Collot, " but none of us tremble before danger. The committee of general
safety accepts the arduous commission to watch and to prosecute all the ene-
mies who are secretly plotting against liberty ; the committee of public wel-
fare spares no pains for the performance of its immense task ; but both need
your support. In these days of danger we are but few. Billaud and Jean-
Bon are absent, our friends Couthon and Robespierre are ill. A small num-
ber of us only is therefore left to combat the enemies of the public weal.
You must support us, or we must retire." "No, no!" cried the Jacobins.
"Do not retire; we will support you." Numerous plaudits accompanied
these encouraging words. Collot proceeded, and then related what had
passed at the Cordeliers. " There are men," said he, " who have not had the
courage to suffer during a few days of confinement, men who have under-
gone nothing during the revolution, men whose defence we undertook when
we deemed them oppressed, and who have attempted to excite an insurrec-
tion in Paris, because they had been imprisoned for a few moments. An
insurrection because two men have suffered, because they had not a doctor
to bleed them when they were ill ! Wo be to those who demand an insur-
rection !" " Yes, yes, wo be to them !" exclaimed all the Jacobins together.
" Marat was a Cordelier," resumed Collot; " Marat was a Jacobin: he, too,
was persecuted, and assuredly much more than these men of a dav ; he was
2o2
438 HISTORY OF THE
dragged before that tribunal at which aristocrats alone ought to appear. Did
he provoke an insurrection ? No. Sacred insurrection, the insurrection
which must deliver humanity from all those who oppress it, is the offspring
of more generous sentiments than the petty sentiment into which an attempt
is now making to hurry us ; but we will not fall into it. The committee of
public welfare will not give way to intriguers. It is taking strong and
vigorous measures; and, were it even doomed to perish, it will not recoil
from so glorious a task."
No sooner had Collot finished, than Momoro rose to justify the section of
Marat and the Cordeliers. He admitted that a veil had been thrown over
the declaration of rights, but denied the other allegations. He disavowed the
scheme of insurrection, and insisted that the section of Marat and the Cor-
deliers were animated by better sentiments. Conspirators who justify them-
selves are undone. Whenever they dare not avow the insurrection, and the
mere announcement of the object does not produce a burst of opinion in their
favour, they can effect nothing more. Momoro was heard with marked dis-
approbation ; and Collot was commissioned to go in the name of the Jacobins
to fraternize with the Cordeliers, and to bring back those brethren led astray
by perfidious suggestions.
The night was now far advanced. Collot could not repair to the Corde-
liers till the following day, the 17th ; but the danger, though at first alarming,
was no longer formidable. It became evident that opinion was not favour-
ably disposed towards the conspirators, if that name may be given to them.
The commune had receded ; the Jacobins adhered to the committee and to
Robespierre, though absent and ill. The Cordeliers, impetuous but feebly
directed, and, above all, forsaken by the commune and the Jacobins, could
not fail to yield to the eloquence of Collot-d'Herbois, and to the honour of
seeing among them so celebrated a member of the government. Vincent,
with his frenzy, Hebert, with his filthy paper, at which he laboured as as-
siduously as ever, and Momoro, with his resolutions of the section of Marat,
could not produce a decisive movement. Ronsin alone, with his epauletiers
and considerable stores of ammunition, had it in his power to attempt a coup-
de-main. Not for want of boldness, however, but either because he did not
find that boldness in his friends, or because he could not entirely depend on
his troops, he refrained from acting; and, from the 16fh to the 17th of August,
all the demonstrations were confined to agitation and threats. The epaule-
tiers, mingling with the popular societies, caused a great tumult among them,
but durst not have recourse to arms.
In the evening of the 17th, Collot went to the Cordeliers, where he was
n first received with great applause. He told them that secret enemies of
the Revolution were striving to mislead their patriotism ; that they had pre-
tended to declare the republic in a state of distress, whereas at the same mo-
ment it was royalty and aristocracy alone that were at the last gasp; that
they had endeavoured to divide the Cordeliers and the Jacobins, who ousjht,
on the contrary, to form but one family, united in principles and intentions ;
that this scheme of insurrection, this veil thrown over the declaration of
rights, rejoiced the aristocrats, who on the preceding night had all followed
this example and veiled in their saloons the declaration of rights; and that
therefore, in order not to crown the satisfaction of the enemy, they ought to
lose no time in unveiling the sacred code of nature, which was nearer
triumphing over tyrants than ever. The Cordeliers could not withstand
these representations, though there were among them a great number of
Uouchotte's clerks; they hastened to signify their repentance, removed
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 439
the crape thrown over the declaration of rights, and delivered it to Collot,
charging him to assure the Jacobins that they would always pursue the same
course with them. Collot-d'Herbois hurried away to the Jacobins to pro-
claim their victory over the Cordeliers and the ultra-revolutionists. The
conspirators* were thus forsaken by all. They had no resource left but a
coup-dc-main, which, as we have observed, was almost impossible. The
committee of public welfare resolved to prevent any movement on their part
by causing the ringleaders to be apprehended, and by sending them imme-
diately before the revolutionary tribunal. It enjoined Fouquier to search for
facts that would bear out a charge of conspiracy, and to prepare forthwith an
act of accusation. St. Just was directed at the same time, to make a report
to the Convention against the united factions which threatened the tranquil-
lity of the state.
On the 23d of Ventose, St, Just presented his report. Agreeably to the
adopted system, he represented the foreign powers as setting to work two
factions : the one composed of seditious men, incendiaries, plunderers,
defaxners, and atheists, who strove to effect the overthrow of the republic by
exaggeration ; the other consisting of corrupt men, stockjobbers, extortioners,
who, having suffered themselves to be seduced by the allurements of pleasure,
were endeavouring to enervate and to dishonour the republic. He asserted
that one of these factions had begun to act ; that it had attempted to raise
the standard of rebellion ; but that it had been stopped short ; that he came
in consequence to demand a decree of death against those in general who
meditated the subversion of the supreme power, contrived the corruption of
the public mind and of republican manners, obstructed the arrival of articles
of consumption, and in any way contributed to the plan framed by the
foreign foe. St. Just added that it behoved the Convention from that mo-
ment to make justice, probity, and all the republican virtues the order of
the day.
In this report, written with a fanatical violence, all the factions were
equally threatened : but the only persons explicitly devoted to the vengeance
of the revolutionary tribunal were the ultra-revolutionary conspirators, such
as Ronsin, Vincent, Hebert, &c, and the corrupt members, Chabot, Bazire,
Fabre, and Julien, the fabricators of the forged decree. An ominous silence
was observed respecting those whom St. Just called the indulgents and the
moderates.
In the evening of the same day, Robespierre went with Couthon to the
Jacobins, and both were received with applause. The members surrounded
them, congratulated them on their recovery, and promised unbounded attach-
ment to Robespierre. He proposed an extraordinary sitting for the follow-
ing day, in order to elucidate the mystery of the conspiracy which had been
discovered. His suggestion was adopted. The acquiescence of the com-
mune was equally ready. At the instigation of Chaumette himself, it
applied for the report which St. Just had delivered to the Convention, and
sent to the printing-office of the republic for a copy in order to read it. All
submitted cheerfully to the triumphant authority of the committee of public
welfare. In the night between the 23d and 24th, Hebert, Vincent, Ronsin,
• " The case of these men was singular. The charge hore that they were associates of
Pitt and Coburg, and had combined against the sovereignty of the people, and much inure
to the same purpose, consisting of allegations that were totally unimportant, and totally un-
proved. But nothing was said of their rivalry to Robespierre, which was the true cause of
their trial, and as little of their revolutionary murders being the ground on which they really
deserved their fate." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
440 HISTORY OF THE
Momoro, Mazuel, one of Ronsin's officers, and lastly, Kock, the foreign
banker, a stockjobber, and ultra-revolutionist, at whose house, Hebert, Ron-
sin, and Vincent, frequently dined and formed all their plans, were appre-
hended by direction of Fouquier-Tinville. Thus the committee had two
foreign bankers to persuade the world that the two factions were set in
motion by the coalition. Baron de Batz was to serve to prove this against
Chabot, Julien, Fabre, and all the corrupt men and moderates ; while Kock
was to furnish the same evidence against Vincent, Ronsin, Hebert, and the
ultra-revolutionists.
The persons denounced suffered themselves to be arrested without resist-
ance, and were sent on the following day to the Luxembourg. The prison-
ers thronged with joy to witness the arrival of those furious men, who had
filled them with such alarm, and threatened them with a new September.
Ronsin displayed great firmness and indifference ; the cowardly Hebert was
downcast and dejected ; Momoro, thunderstruck. Vincent was in convul-
sions. The rumour of these arrests was immediately circulated throughout
Paris and produced universal joy. It was unluckily added that these were
not all, and that men belonging to all the factions were to be punished. The
same thing was repeated in the extraordinary sitting of the Jacobins. After
each had related what he knew of the conspiracy, of its authors, and of
their projects, he added that happily all their plots would be known, and
that a report would be made against other persons besides those who were
actually in custody.
The war-office, the revolutionary army, and the Cordeliers, were struck
in the persons of Vincent, Ronsin, Hebert, Mazuel, Momoro, and their
assistants. It was deemed right to punish the commune also. Nothing
was talked of but the dignity of grand judge reserved for Pache ; but he
was well known to be incapable of joining in a conspiracy, docile to the
superior authority, respected by the people ; and the committee would not
strike too severe a blow by associating him with the others. It therefore
preferred ordering the arrest of Chaumette, who was neither bolder nor
more dangerous than Pache, but who from vanity and obstinate prejudice,
was the instigator of the most imprudent determinations of the commune,
and one of the most zealous apostles of the worship of reason. The unfor-
tunate Chaumette was therefore apprehended. He was sent to the Luxem-
bourg with Bishop Gobel, the author of the grand scene of the abjuration,
and with Anacharsis Clootz, already excluded from the Jacobins and the
Convention, on account of his foreign origin, his noble birth, his fortune,
his universal republic, and his atheism.
When Chaumette arrived at the Luxembourg, the suspected persons ran
to meet him and loaded him with sarcasm. With a great fondness for decla-
mation, Chaumette had none of Ronsin's boldness or of Vincent's fury. His
smooth hair and his timid look gave him the appearance of a missionary ;
and such he had actually been of the new worship. He could not withstand
the raillery of the prisoners. They reminded him of his motions against
prostitutes, against the aristocrats, against the famine, against the suspected
persons. One prisoner said to him, bowing, " Philosopher Anaxagoras, I
am suspected, thou art suspected, we are suspected." Chaumette excused
himself in an abject and tremulous tone ; but from that time he did not ven-
ture to leave his cell, or appear in the court among the other prisoners.
The committee, after it had caused these unfortunate men to be appre-
hended, required the committee of general safety to draw up the act of accu-
sation against Chabot, Bazire, Delaunay, Julien of Toulouse, and Fabre
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
All five were placed under accusation and delivered over to the revolutionary
tribunal. At the same moment it became known that a female emigrant,
under prosecution by a revolutionary committee, had found an asylum at
the bane of Herault-Sechelles. This celebrated deputy, who possessed a
Large fortune, together with high birth, a handsome person, and a cultivated
and elegant mind, who was the friend of Danton, Camille-Desmoulins, and
Proly, and who had often shuddered to see himself in the ranks of those
terrible revolutionists, had become suspected, and it was forgotten that he
had been the principal author of the Constitution. The committee lost no
time in ordering him to be arrested, in the first place because it disliked him,
and in the next to prove that it would not fail to punish moderates overtaken
in a fault, and that it would not be more indulgent to them than to other cul-
prits. Thus the shafts of this formidable committee fell at once upon men
of all ranks, of all opinions, and of every degree of merit.
On the 1st of Germinal, the proceedings against one part of the conspira-
tors commenced. In the same accusation were included Ronsin, Vincent,
Hebert, Momoro, Mazuel, Kock the banker, the young Lyonnese Leclerc,
who had become chef de division in Bouchotte's office, Ancar and Ducro-
quet, commissaries of the victualling department, and some other members
of the revolutionary army and of the' war-office. In order to keep up the
notion of a connivance between the ultra-revolutionary faction and that
called the foreign faction, Proly, Dubuisson, Pereyra, and Desfieux were
comprised in the same accusation, though they had never had any connexion
with the other accused persons. Chaumette was reserved to figure at a
future time with Gobel and the other authors of the scenes of the worship
of reason ; and lastly, if Clootz, who ought to have been associated with
these latter, was joined with Proly, it was in his quality of foreigner. The
accused were nineteen in number. The boldest and firmest of them were
Ronsin and Clootz. " This," said Ronsin, to his co-accused, " is a political
process ; of what use are all your papers and your preparations for justify-
ing yourselves ? you will be condemned. When you should have acted,
you talked. Know how to die. For my part, I swear that you shall not
see me flinch. Strive to do the same." The wretched Hebert and Mo-
moro bewailed their fate, and said that liberty was undone ! " Liberty
undone !" exclaimed Ronsin, " because a few paltry fellows are about to
perish ! Liberty is immortal. Our enemies will fall in their turn, and liberty
will survive them all." As they accused one another, Clootz exhorted them
not to aggravate their misfortunes by mutual invectives, and he recited the
celebrated apologue :
Je revais cette unit que, de mal consume,
Cote a cote d'un gueux on m'avait inhume.
This recitation had the desired effect, and they ceased to reproach one
another with their misfortunes. Clootz, still full of his philosophical
opinions to the very scaffold, attacked the last relics of deism that were left
in them, and preached up nature and reason with an ardent zeal and an ex-
traordinary contempt of death. They were carried to the tribunal amidst an
immense concourse of spectators. We have shown, in the account of their
conduct, in what their conspiracy consisted. Clubbists of the lowest class,
intriguers belonging to public offices, ruffians attached to the revolutionary
army, — these conspirators had the exaggeration of inferiors, of the bearers of
orders, who always exceed their commission. Thus they had wished to
push the revolutionary government so far as to make it a mere military com-
vol. ii. — 56
HISTORY OF THE
mission, the abolition of superstitious practices to persecution of religion,
republican manners to coarseness, liberty of speech to the most disgusting
vulgarity*; lastly, democratic jealousy and severity towards men to the most
atrocious defamation. Abusive expressions against the Convention and the
committee, plans of government in words, motions at the Cordeliers and in
the sections, filthy pamphlets, a visit of Ronsin to the prisons to see whether
patriots like himself were not confined in them ; lastly, some threats, and an
attempt at commotion upon pretext of the dearth — such were their plots.
In all these there was nothing but the follies and the obscenities of loose
characters. But a conspiracy deeply laid and corresponding with foreign
powers was far above the capacity of these wretches. It was a perfidious
supposition of the committee, which the infamous Fouquier-Tinville was
charged to demonstrate to the tribunal, and which the tribunal had orders to
adopt.
The abusive expressions which Vincent and Ronsin had used against Le-
gendre, when dining with him at Pache's, and their reiterated propositions
for organizing the executive power, were alleged as attesting the design of
annihilating the national representation and the committee of public welfare.
Their dinners with Kock, the banker, were adduced in proof of their cor-
respondence with foreign powers. To this proof was added another. Letters,
sent from Paris to London, and inserted in the English newspapers, inti-
mated that, from the agitation which prevailed, it was to be presumed that
movements would take place. These letters, it Avas said to the accused,
demonstrate that foreigners were in your confidence, since they predicted
your plots beforehand. The dearth, the blame of which they attempted to
throw on the government, in order to excite the people against it, was im-
puted to them alone; and Fouquier-Tinville, returning calumny for calumny,
maintained that they were the cause of that dearth by instigating the plunder
of the carts with vegetables and fruit by the way. The military stores col-
lected at Paris for the revolutionary army were charged to their account as
preparations for conspiracy. Ronsin's visit to the prisons was adduced as a
proof of a design to arm the suspected persons and to let them loose upon
Paris. Lastly, the papers and publications distributed in the markets, :md
the veil thrown over the declaration of rights, were considered as a com-
mencement of execution.
Hebert was covered with infamy. His political acts and his paper were
scarcely noticed. It was deemed sufficient to prove thefts of shirts and
handkerchiefs. But let us quit those disgraceful discussions between these
base accused and the base accuser, employed by a terrible government to
consummate the sacrifices which it had ordered. Retired within its elevated
sphere, this government pointed out the unfortunate creatures who were an
obstacle to it, and left Fouquier, its attorney-general, to satisfy the forms of
law with falsehoods. If, in this vile herd of victims sacrificed for the sake
of the public tranquillity, there are any that deserve to be set apart, they arc
those unfortunate foreigners, Proly and Anacharsis Clootz, condemned as
agents of the coalition. Proly, as we have said, being well acquainted with
Belgium, his native country, had censured the ignorant violence of the J;ic<>-
bins in the Netherlands. He had admired the talents of Dumouriez, and
this he confessed to the tribunal. His knowledge of foreign courts, had, on
two or three occasions, rendered him serviceable to Lcbrun, and tins he also
confessed. "Thou hast blamed," it was urged against him, "the revolu-
tionary system in Belgium ; thou hast admired Dumouriez ; thou hast been I
friend of Lebrun; thou art, therefore, an agent of the foreign powers." No
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 443
other fact was alleged against him. As for Clootz, his universal republic,
his dogma of reason, his income of one hundred thousand livres, and some
efforts which he had made to save a female emigrant, were sufficient for his
conviction.
No sooner were the proceedings resumed on the third day than the jury
declared that it was satisfied with the evidence before it, and condemned
pell-mell those intriguers, agitators, and unfortunate foreigners, to suffer
death. One only was acquitted, a man named Laboureau, who in this affair
had served as a spy for the committee of public welfare. On the 4th of
Germinal, at four in the afternoon, the condemned persons were conveyed
to the place of execution. The concourse was as great as on any preceding
occasion of the same kind. Places were sold on carts and on tables around
the scaffold. Neither Ronsin nor Clootz tripped, to use their own terrible
expression. Hebert, overcome with shame, disheartened by contempt, took,
no pains to conceal his cowardice. He fell fainting every moment, and the
populace, vile as himself, followed the fatal cart, repeating the cry of the
hawkers of his paper : // est b 1 en colere le Pere Duch&ne.
Thus were sacrificed these wretched men to the indispensable necessity of
establishing a firm and vigorous government; and here the necessity of
order and obedience was not one of those sophisms to which governments
sacrifice their victims. All Europe threatened France, all the agitators were
grasping at the supreme authority, and compromising the commonwealth by
their quarrels. It was indispensable that some more energetic men should
seize this disputed authority, should hold it to the exclusion of all others, and
should thus be enabled to use it for the purpose of withstanding all Europe.
If we feel any regret it is to see falsehood employed against these wretches ;
to find among them a man of firm courage in Ronsin, an inoffensive maniac
in Clootz, and at most an intriguer, but not a conspirator, and a foreigner of
superior merit, in the unfortunate Proly.
As soon as the Hebertists had suffered, the indulgents manifested great
joy, and said that they were not wrong in denouncing Hebert, Ronsin, and
Vincent, since the committee of public welfare and the revolutionary tribunal
had sent them to the scaffold. Of what, then, can they accuse us ? said they.
We have done nothing more than reproach those factious men with a design
to overthrow the republic, to destroy the National Convention, to supplant
the committee of public welfare, to add the danger of religious to that of civil
wars, and to produce a general confusion. This is precisely what St. Just
and Fouquier-Tinville have laid to their charge in sending them to the scaf-
fold. In what then can we be conspirators, enemies of the republic ?
Nothing could be more just than these reflections, and the committee was
of precisely the same opinion as Danton, Camille-Desmoulins, Philipeaux,
and Fabre, respecting the danger of that anarchical turbulence. In proof of
this, Robespierre had, since the 31st of May, never ceased defending Danton
and Camille, and accusing the anarchists. But, as we have observed, in
striking the latter, the committee ran the risk of being set down as moderate,
and it was therefore incumbent on it to display the greatest energy on the
other side, lest it should compromise its revolutionary reputation.* It be-
hoved it, while thinking like Danton and Camille, to censure their opinions,
• " By favouring at first, or seeming to favour, the moderates, Robespierre had prepared
the ruin of the anarchists, and he thus accomplished two ends which contributed to his do-
mination or his pride : he ruined a formidable faction, and he destroyed a revolutionary repu-
tation, the rival of his own. Motives of public safety required, it must be confessed, these
combinations of parties. It appeared impossible to the committee to continue the war with-
444
HISTORY OF THE
to sacrifice them in its speeches, and to appear not to favour them more than
the Hebertists themselves. In the report against the two factions, St. Just
had threatened one as much as the other, and observed a menacing silence
respecting the indulgents. At the Jacobins, Collot had said that the business
was not finished, and that a report was preparing against other persons, be-
sides those who were arrested. These threats were accompanied by the
apprehension of Herault-Sechelles, a friend of Danton, and one of the most
esteemed men of that time. Such facts indicated no intention of relaxing,
and yet it was still said in all quarters that the committee was about to retrace
its steps, that it was going to mitigate the revolutionary system, and to
pursue severe measures against the murderers of all kinds. Those who
wished for this return to a milder policy, the prisoners, their families, in short,
all the peaceful citizens persecuted under the name of indiflferents, gave
themselves up to indiscreet hopes, and loudly asserted that the system of the
laws of blood was at length about to terminate. Such was soon the general
opinion. It spread to the departments, and especially to that of the Rhone,
where such terrible vengeance had for some months past been exercised, and
in which Ronsin had caused such consternation. People breathed more
freely for a moment at Lyons. They dared look their oppressors in the
face, and seemed to predict to them that their cruelties were about to have an
end. These rumours, these hopes of the middle and peaceful class, roused
the indignation of the patriots. The Jacobins of Lyons wrote to those of
Paris that aristocracy was raising its head again, that they should soon be
unable to keep it down, and that, unless force and encouragement were given
to them, they should be reduced to the necessity of taking their own lives
like the patriot Gaillard, who had stabbed himself at the time of the first
arrest of Ronsin.
" I have seen," said Robespierre to the Jacobins, " letters from some of
the Lyonnese patriots. They all express the same despair, and if the most
speedy remedy be not applied to their disease, they will not find relief from
any recipe but that of Cato and Gaillard. The perfidious faction which,
affecting a perfidious patriotism, aimed at sacrificing the patriots, has been
exterminated ; but the foreign foe cares little for that ; he has another left.
Had Hebert triumphed, the Convention would have been overthrown, the
republic would have fallen into chaos, and tyranny would have been de-
lighted ; but, with the moderates, the Convention is losing its energy, the
crimes of the aristocracy are left unpunished, and the tyrants triumph. The
foreigner has therefore as much hope with one as with the other of these
factions, and he must pay them all without attaching any of them to him-
self. What cares he whether Hebert expires on the scaffold, so that he has
traitors of another kind left for the accomplishment of his projects ? You
have done nothing, then, if there is still left a faction for you to destroy ;
and the Convention is resolved to immolate all, even to the very last of
them."-
Thus the committee had felt the necessity of clearing itself from the re-
proach of moderation by a new sacrifice. Robespierre had defended Danton,
when he had seen a daring faction preparing to strike by his side one of the
most celebrated and most renowned of the patriots. Policy, a common dan-
ger, everything, then induced him to defend his old colleague ; but now this
out a dictatorship ; they considered the HeherUsts as an obscure faction, who corrupted the
people and assisted the enemy ; and the Dantonists as a party whose political moderation and
private immorality compromised and dishonoured the republic" — Migrut. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 445
bold faction no longer existed. Were he to continue to defend this colleague,
stripped of his popularity, he would compromise himself. Besides, the con-
duct of Danton could not fail to excite many reflections in his jealous mind.
What was Danton about? Why did he absent himself from the committee?
Associating with Philipcaux and Camille-Desmoulins, he appeared to be the
instigator and leader of that new opposition which was assailing the govern-
ment with cutting censures and sarcasms. For some time past, seated oppo-
site to that tribune where the members of the committee took their places,
Danton had somewhat of a threatening, and at the same time contemptuous,
air. His attitude, his expressions, which ran from mouth to mouth, and his
connexions, all proved that, after seceding from the government, he had set
up for its censor, and that he kept himself aloof, as if for the purpose of ob-
structing it by his great reputation. This was not all. Though Danton
had lost his popularity, he still retained a reputation for boldness and for ex-
traordinary political genius. If Danton were sacrificed, there would be left
not one great name out of the committee ; and in the committee there would
remain only men of secondary importance, such as St. Just, Couthon, Col-
lot-d'Herbois. By consenting to this sacrifice, Robespierre would at once
destroy a rival, restore to the government its reputation for energy, and above
all heighten his reputation for virtue, by striking a man accused of having
sought money and pleasure. He was, moreover, exhorted to this sacrifice
by all his colleagues, who were still more jealous of Danton than he was
himself. Couthon and Collot-d'Herbois were aware that they were despised
by that celebrated tribune. Billaud, cold, vulgar, and sanguinary, found in
him something grand and overwhelming. St. Just, dogmatic, austere and
proud, felt an antipathy to an acting, generous, and easy revolutionist, and
perceived that, if Danton were dead, he should become the second personage
of the republic. Lastly, all of them knew that Danton, in his plan for re-
newing the committee, proposed that Robespierre alone should be retained.
They therefore beset the latter, and no great efforts were required to wring
from him a determination so agreeable to his pride. It is not known what
explanations led to this resolution or on what day it was taken ; but all at
once they became threatening and mysterious. No further mention was
made of their projects. In the Convention and at the Jacobins they main-
tained an absolute silence. But sinister rumours began to be whispered
about. It was said that Danton, Camille, Philipeaux, and Lacroix, were
about to be apprehended and sacrificed to the authority of their colleagues.
Mutual friends of Danton and Robespierre, alarmed at these reports, and
seeing that, after such an act, the life of no man whatever would be safe, and
that Robespierre himself could no longer be easy, were desirous of recon-
ciling Robespierre and Danton, and begged them to explain themselves.
Robespierre, intrenching himself in an obstinate silence, refused to reply to
these overtures, and maintained a distant reserve.* When reminded of the
* " After the first symptoms of a commencement of hostilities, Danton, who had not yet
terminated his connexion with Robespierre, demanded an interview. It took place at the
house of the latter. Danton complained violently, but Robespierre was reserved. ' I know,'
said Danton, ' all the hatred which the committee bears me ; but I do not fear it.' — ' You are
wrong,' replied Robespierre ; ' they have no evil intentions against you, but it is good to ex-
plain oneself.' — 'Explain oneself!' retorted Danton, 'for that good faith is necessary ;' and,
observing Robespierre to assume a grave air at these words, 'Without doubt,' added he, 'it is
necessary to suppress the royalists ; but we ought only to strike Mows which are useful to
the republic ; and it is not necessary to confound the innocent with the guilty.' — ' Ah, who
has told you,' rejoined Robespierre sharply, ' that we have caused an innocent person to
2P
/
446 HISTORY OF THE
friendship that he had formerly testified for Danton, he hypocritically replied
that he could not do anything either for or against his colleague; that justice
was there to defend innocence ; that, for his part, his whole life had been a
continual sacrifice of his affections to his country ; and that, if his friend were
guilty, he should sacrifice him with regret, but he should sacrifice him like
all the others to the republic.
It is obvious that his mind was made up, that this hypocritical rival would
not enter into any engagement relative to Danton, and that he reserved to
himself the liberty of delivering him up to his colleagues. In consequence,
the rumours of the approaching arrests acquired more consistence. Danton's
friends surrounded him, urging him to rouse himself from the kind of slum-
ber which had come over him, to shake off his indolence, and to show at
length that revolutionary front which amidst storms he had never yet showed
in vain. "I well know," said Danton, "they mean to arrest me. But no,"
he added, " they will not dare." Besides, what could he7 do? To fly was im
possible. What country would have given an asylum to this formidable
revolutionist ? Was he to authorize by his flight all the calumnies of his
enemies ? And then, he loved his country. "Does a man," he exclaimed,
" carry away his country on the soles of his shoes ?" On the other hand,
if he remained in France, he would have but slender means at his disposal.
The Cordeliers belonged to the ultra-revolutionists, the Jacobins to Robes-
pierre. The Convention was trembling. On what force could he lean ?
These are points not duly considered by those who, having seen this mighty
man overturning the throne on the 10th of August, and raising the people
against foreigners, have not been able to conceive how he could have fallen
without resistance. Revolutionary genius does not consist in reviving a lost
popularity, in creating forces which do not exist, but in boldly directing
the affections of the people, when once in possession of them. The
generosity of Danton, and his secession from public affairs, had almost alien-
ated the popular favour from him, or at least had not left him enough of i'
for overthrowing the reigning authority. In this conviction of his impotence,
he waited and repeated to himself, They will not dare. It was but fair* to
presume that before so great a name and such great services his adversaries
would hesitate. He then sank back into his indolence and into the thought-
lessness of men conscious of their strength, who await danger without taking
much pains to screen themselves from it.
The committee continued to maintain profound silence, and sinister ru-
mours continued to be circulated. Six days had elapsed since the death of
Hebert. It was the 9th of Germinal. All at once, the peaceable men, who
had conceived indiscreet hopes from the fall of the furious party, said that
they should soon be delivered from the two saints, Marat and Chalier, and
that there had been found in their lives enough to change them, as well as
Hebert, from great patriots into villains. This report, which originated in
the idea of a retrograde movement, spread with extraordinary rapidity, and
it was everywhere asserted that the busts of Marat and Chalier were to be
broken in pieces. Legendre denounced this language in the Convention
and at the Jacobins, by way of protesting, in the name of his friends, the
moderates, against such a project. " Be easy," exclaimed Collot at the
Jacobins, " these stories will be contradicted. We have hurled the thunder-
perish!' Whereupon Danton, turning to one of his friends who had accompanied him,
asked, with a bitter smile, ' What sayest thou 1 Not an innocent has perished V After these
words they separated. All the bonds of friendship were broken." — Mignet. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. , 447
bolt at the infamous wretches who deluded the people ; we have torn the
ma.sk from their faces, but they are not the only ones ! We will tear off all
possible masks. Let not the indulgents imagine that it is for them that we
have fought, that it is for them we have here held glorious sittings. We
shall soon undeceive them."
Accordingly, on the following day, the 10th Germinal, the committee of
public welfare summoned the attendance of the committee of general safety,
and, to give more authority to its measures, that of the committee of legisla-
tion also. As soon as all the members had assembled, St. Just addressed
them, and, in one of those violent and perfidious reports which he was so
clever at drawing up, he denounced Danton, Philipeaux, Desmoulins, and
Lacroix, and proposed their apprehension. The members of the two other
committees, awe-struck and trembling, durst not resist, and conceived that
they were removing the danger from their own persons by giving their
assent. Profound secrecy was enjoined, and, in the night between the 10th
and the 11th of Germinal, Danton, Lacroix, Philipeaux, and Camille-Des-
moulins were arrested unawares, and conveyed to the Luxembourg.
By morning the tidings had spread throughout Paris, and produced there
a kind of stupor. The members of the Convention met and preserved a
silence, mingled with consternation. The committee, which always made the
Assembly wait for it, and which had already all the insolence of power, had
not yet arrived. Legendre, who was not of sufficient importance to be ap-
prehended with his friends, was eager to speak. " Citizens," said he,
" four members of this Assembly were last night arrested. I know that
Danton is one of them ; the names of the others I know not ; but whoever
they be, I move that they be heard at the bar. Citizens, I declare that I
believe Danton to be as pure as myself, and I believe that no one has any-
thing to lay to my charge. I shall not attack any member of the committees
of public welfare and of general safety, but I have a right to fear that per-
sonal animosities and individual passions may wrest liberty from men who
have rendered it the greatest and the most beneficial services. The man
who, in September 92, saved France by his energy, deserves to be heard,
and ought to be allowed to explain himself, when he is accused of having
betrayed the country."
To procure for Danton the faculty of addressing the Convention was the
surest way to save him and to unmask his adversaries. Many members, in
fact, were in favour of his being heard ; but, at this moment, Robespierre,
arriving before the committee in the midst of the discussion, ascended the
tribune and in an angry and threatening tone spoke in these terms : " From
the disturbance, for a long time unknown, which prevails in this Assembly,
from the agitation produced by the preceding speaker, it is evident that the
question under discussion is one of great interest, that the point is to decide
whether a few men shall this day get the better of the country. But how
can you so far forget your principles as to propose to grant this day to cer-
tain individuals what you have previously refused to Chabot, Delaunay, and
Fabre-d'Eglantine ? Why is this difference in favour of some men ? What
care I for the praise that people bestow on themselves and their friends ?
Too much experience has taught us to distrust such praise. The question
is not whether a man has performed this or that patriotic act, but what has
been his whole career.
44 Legendre pretends to be ignorant of the names of the persons arrested.
They are known to the whole Convention. His friend Lacroix is one
of them. Why does Legendre affect ignorance of this ? Because he knows
448 HISTORY OF THE
that it is impossible, without impudence, to defend Lacroix. He has men-
tioned Danton, because he conceives, no doubt, that to his name is attached
a privilege. No, we will have no privileges. We will have no idols !"
At these words there was a burst of applause, and the cowards, trembling
at the same time before one idol, nevertheless applauded the overthrow of
another, which was no longer to be feared. Robespierre continued : " In
what respect is Danton superior to Lafayette, to Dumouriez, to Brissot, to
Fabre, to Chabot, to Hebert ? What is said of him that may not be said of
them ? And yet have you spared them 1 Men talk to you of the despotism
of the committees, as if the confidence which the people have bestowed on
you, and which you have transferred to these committees, were not a sure
guarantee of their patriotism. They affect doubts ; but I tell you, whoever
trembles at this moment is guilty, for innocence never dreads the public sur-
veillance."
Fresh applause from the same trembling cowards, anxious to prove that
they were not afraid, accompanied these words. " And in me, too," added
Robespierre, " they have endeavoured to excite terror. They have endea-
voured to make me believe that, in meddling with Danton, the danger might
reach myself. They have written to me ; the friends of Danton have sent
me letters, have beset me with their speeches ; they conceived that the re-
membrance of an old connexion, that an ancient faith in false virtues, would
induce me to slacken my zeal and my passion for liberty. On the contrary,
I declare that if Danton's dangers were ever to become my own, that consi-
deration would not stop me for a moment. It is here that we all ought to
have some courage and some greatness of soul. Vulgar minds, or guilty
men, are always afraid to see their fellows fall, because, having no longer a
barrier of culprits before them, they are left exposed to the light of truth ;
but, if there exist vulgar spirits, there are heroic spirits also in this assem-
bly, and they will know how to brave all false terrors. Besides, the num-
ber of the guilty is not great. Crime has found but few partisans among
us, and, by striking off" a few heads, the country will be delivered."
Robespierre had acquired assurance and skill to say what he meant, and
never had he shown more skill or more perfidy than on this occasion. To
talk of the sacrifice which he made in forsaking Danton, to make a merit of
it, to take to himself a share of the danger, if there were any, and to cheer
the cowards by talking of the small number of the guilty, was the height of
hypocrisy and of address. Thus all his colleagues unanimously decided
that the four deputies arrested in the night should not be heard by the Con-
vention. At this moment St. Just arrived, and read his report. He was
the denouncer of the victims, because he combined an extraordinary vehe-
mence and vigour of style with the subtlety necessary for distorting facts,
and giving them a signification which they had not. Never had he been
more horribly eloquent or more false ; for, intense as might have been his
hatred, it could not have persuaded him of all that he advanced. Having at
considerable length calumniated Philipeaux, Camille-Desmoulins, and He-
rault-Sechelles, and accused Lacroix, he came at last to Danton, urging
against him the falsest allegations, and distorting known facts in the most
atrocious manner. According to him, Danton, greedy, indolent, a liar, and
even a coward, sold himself to Mirabeau, and afterwards to the Lameths,
and drew up with Brissot the petition which led to the fusillade in the Champ
de Mars, not for the purpose of abolishing royalty, but to cause the best
citizens to be shot. He then went with impunity to take his recreation, and
to revel at Arcis-sur-Aube on the produce of his perfidies. He kept con-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 449
cealed on the 10th of August, and appeared again only to make himself a
minuter: he then connected himself with the Orleans party, and got Orleans
and Fabre elected deputies. Leagued with Dumouriez, bearing only an
affected hatred to the Girondins, and keeping up in reality a good under-
standing with them, lie had entirely opposed the events of the 31st of May,
and wanted to have Henriot arrested. When Dumouriez, Orleans, and the
Girondins had been punished, he treated with the party that was desirous
of setting up Louis XVII. Accepting money from any hand, — from Or-
leans, from the Bourbons, from foreigners, dining with bankers and aristo-
crats, mingling in all intrigues, prodigal of hopes towards all parties, a real
Cataline, in short, rapacious, debauched, indolent, a corrupter of the public
morals, he went and secluded himself once more at Arcis-sur-Aube, to enjoy
the fruits of his rapine. He returned at length, and recendy connected him-
self with all the enemies of the state, with Hebert and his accomplices, by
the common tie of the foreigner, for the purpose of attacking the committee
and the men whom the Convention had invested with its confidence.
When this most unjust report was finished, the Convention decreed the
accusation of Danton, Camille-Desmoulins, Philipeaux, Herault-Sechelles,
and Lacroix.
These unfortunate men had been conveyed to the Luxembourg. " Us !
arrest us !" said Lacroix to Danton, " I never should have thought it !"
"Thou shouldst never have thought it?" replied Danton; "I knew it; I had
been warned of it!"* " And, knowing this, thou hast not acted !" exclaimed
Lacroix. "This is the effect of thine accustomed indolence; it has undone
us." " I did not believe," replied Danton, " that they would ever dare to
execute their design."
All the prisoners thronged to the wicket to see the celebrated Danton and
the interesting Camille, who had thrown a ray of hope into the prisons.
Danton was, as usual, calm, proud, and very jovial ;t Camille, astonished
and depressed; Philipeaux, moved and elevated by the danger. Herault-
Sechelles, who had been sent to the Luxembourg some days before them,
ran out to meet his friends, and cheerfully embraced them. " When men
do silly things," said Danton, " the best thing they can do is to laugh at
them." Then, perceiving Thomas Paine, he said to him, " What thou hast
done for the happiness and the liberty of thy country, I have in vain at-
tempted to do for mine ; I have been less fortunate, but not more guilty.
They are sending me to the scaffold — well, my friends, we must go to it
gaily !"
On the next day, the 12th, the act of accusation was sent to the Luxem-
bourg, and the accused were transferred to the Conciergerie, whence they
were to go before the revolutionary tribunal. On reading this act, full of
atrocious falsehoods, Camille became furious. PresenUy recovering his
composure, he said, with affliction, "I am going to the scaffold for having
• "Danton's friends had more than once warned him of his danger, and implored him to
rouse himself; hut to all their entreaties he merely replied, " I would rather he guillotined
than guillotine. Besides, my life is not worth the trouble, and I am weary of humanity. The
members of the committee seek my death; well, if they effect their purpose, they will be
execrated as tyrants; their houses will be rased; salt will be sown there; and upon the
same spot a gibbet dedicated to the punishment of crime will be planted. But my friends
will say of me that I have been a good father, a good friend, a good citizen. They will not
forget me. No; I would rather be guillotined than guillotine." — Mignet. F.
| "On entering the prison, the first words uttered by Danton were, ' At length I perceive
that, in revolutions, the supreme power ultimately rest* with the most abandoned." —
Rioufft. E.
▼ol. ii. — 57 2 p 2
450 HISTORY OF THE
shed a few tears over the fate of so many unfortunate persons. My only
regret in dying is, that I had not the power to serve them." All the prison-
ers, whatever might be their rank or their opinion, felt a deep interest for
him, and formed ardent wishes in his behalf. Philipeaux said a few words
about his wife, and remained calm and serene. Herault-Sechelles retained
that gracefulness of mind and manners which distinguished him even among
persons of his own rank: he embraced his faithful attendant, who had
accompanied him to the Luxembourg, but was not allowed to follow him to
die Conciergerie ; he cheered him, and revived his courage. To the latter
prison were transferred, at the same time, Fabre, Chabot, Bazire, and
Delaunay, wno were to be tried conjointly with Danton, in order to throw
odium upon him by this association with forgery. Fabre was ill and almost
dying. Chabot, who, during his imprisonment, had never ceased writing to
Robespierre, to implore his good offices, and to lavish on him the basest
flatteries, but without moving him, saw that death was inevitable, and that
disgrace must as certainly be his lot as the scaffold. He resolved, therefore,
to poison himself. He swallowed corrosive sublimate, but the agony which
he suffered having forced him to cry out, he confessed what he had done,
accepted medical aid, and was conveyed, as ill as Fabre, to the Conciergerie.
A sentiment somewhat more noble seemed to animate him amidst his tor-
ments, namely, a deep regret for having compromised his friend Bazire, who
had no hand in the crime. "Bazire," he exclaimed, "my poor Bazire,
what hast thou done?"
At the Conciergerie, the accused excited the same curiosity as at the Lux-
embourg. They were put into the room that the Girondins had occupied.
Danton spoke with the same energy. "It was on this very day," said he,
" that I caused the revolutionary tribunal to be instituted. I beg pardon for
it of God and of men. My object was to prevent a new September, and not
to let loose a scourge upon mankind." Then, giving way to contempt for
his colleagues who were murdering him, " These brother Cains," said he,
" know nothing about government. I leave everything in frightful disorder."
To characterize the impotence of the paralytic Couthon and the cowardly
Robespierre, he then employed some obscene but original expressions,
which indicated an extraordinary gaiety of mind. For a single moment he
showed a slight regret at having taken part in the Revolution, saying that it
was much better to be a poor fisherman dian to govern men. This was the
only expression of the kind that he uttered.
Lacroix appeared astonished at the number and the wretched state of the
prisoners. " What!" said one of them to him, "did not cart-loads of victims
teach you what was passing in Paris ?" The astonishment of Lacroix was
sincere ; and it is a lesson for men who, pursuing a political object, have no
conception of the individual sufferings of the victims, and seem not to believe
because they do not see them.
On the following day, 13th of Ventose, the accused were taken away to
the number of fifteen. The committee had associated together the five
moderate chiefs, Danton, Herault-Sechelles, Camille, Philipeaux, ami La-
croix; the four persons accused of forgery, Chabot, Bazire, Delaunay, and
Fabre d' Eglantine; Chabot's two brothers-in-law, Julius and Emanuel Frey;
d'Espagnac, the contractor ; the unfortunate Westermann, charged with
having participated in the corruption and plots of Danton; lastly, two
foreigners, friends of the accused, Gusman, the Spaniard, and Dicderichs,
the Dane. The object of the committee in making this medley was to con-
found the moderates with the corrupt deputies and with foreigners, by way
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 451
of proving that moderation proceeded at once from the lack of republican
virtue and the seduction of foreign gold. The crowd collected to see tin'
accused was immense. A spark of that interest which Danton had once
excited was rekindled at sight of him. Fouquier-Tinville, the judge-
the jurors, all subaltern revolutionists raised from nothing by his mighty
hand, wer* embarrassed in his presence. His assurance, his haught.
awed them, and he appeared rather to be the accuser than the accused.'
Herman, the president, and Fouquier-Tinville, instead of drawing the jurors
by lot, as the law required, selected them, and took such as they called l Hi
men. The accused were then examined. When Danton was asked the
usual questions as to his age and his place of abode, he proudly replied that
he was thirty-four years old, and that his name would soon be in the Pan-
theon, and himself nothing. Camille replied that he was thirty-three, the age
of the sans-culotte Jesus Christ when he died! Bazire was twenty-nine ;
Herault-Sechelles and Philipeaux were thirty-four. Thus talents, courage,
patriotism, youth, were all again included in this new holocaust, as in that
of the Girondins.
Danton, Camille, Herault-Sechelles and the others, complained on finding
their cause blended with that of several forgers. The proceedings, however,
went on. The accusation preferred against Chabot, Bazire, Delaunay, and
d'Eglantine, was first examined. Chabot persisted in his statement, and
asserted that, if he had taken part in the conspiracy of the stockjobbers, it
was merely for the purpose of revealing it. He convinced nobody ; for it
appeared extraordinary that, if he had entered into it with such a motive, he
should not have secredy forewarned some member of the committees, that
he should have revealed it so late, and that he should have kept the money
in his hands. Delaunay was convicted ; Fabre, notwithstanding his clever
defence, in which he alleged that, in making the erasures and interlineations
in the copy of the decree, he conceived that it was but the rough draft (pro-
jet) which they had before them, was convicted by Cambon, whose frank
and disinterested deposition was overwhelming. He proved in fact to Fabre
that the projets of decrees were never signed, that the copy which he had
altered was signed by all the members of the commission of five, and that
conseqftendy he could not have supposed that he was altering a mere projet.
Bazire, whose connivance consisted in non-revelation, was scarcely heard in
his defence, and was assimilated to the others by the tribunal. It then passed
to d'Espagnac, who was accused of having bribed Julien of Toulouse to sup-
port his contracts, and of having had a hand in the intrigue of the India Com-
pany. In this case, letters proved the facts, and against this evidence all d'Es-
pagnac's acuteness was of no avail. Herault-Sechelles was then examined.
Bazire was declared gudty as a friend of Chabot; Herault for having been a
friend of Bazire ; for having had some knowledge through him of the intrigue
of the stockjobbers; for having favoured a female emigrant; for ha vino;
been a friend of the moderates ; and for having caused it to be supposed by
his mildness, his elegance, his fortune, his ill-disguised regrets, that he was
himself a moderate. After Herault came Danton's turn. Profound silence
pervaded the Assembly when he rose to speak. " Danton," said the presi-
dent to"him, "the Convention accuses you of having conspired with Mira-
beau, with Dumouriez, with Orleans, with the Girondins, with foreigners,
and with the faction which wants to reinstate Louis XVII." — " My voice,"
* "Danton, calm and indifferent, amused himself during his trial by throwing little paper*
pellets at his judges."— Hazlitt. E.
452 HISTORY OF THE
replied Danton with his powerful organ, " my voice which has so often been
raised for the cause of the people, will have no difficulty to repel that
calumny. Let the cowards who accuse me show their faces, and I will cover
them with infamy. Let the committees come forward ; I will not answer
but in their presence : I need them for accusers and for witnesses. Let them
appear. For the rest, I care little for you and your judgment. I have
already told you that nothingness will be soon my asylum. Life is a bur-
den; take it from me. I long to be delivered from it." Danton uttered
these words burning with indignation. His heart revolted at having to
answer such men. His demand to be confronted with the committees, and
his declared determination not to reply but in their presence, had intimidated
the tribunal and caused great agitation. Such a confronting would in fact
have been cruel for them ; they would have been covered with confusion,
and condemnation would perhaps have been rendered impossible. " Dan-
ton," said the president, "audacity is the quality of guilt, calmness that of
innocence." At this expression, Danton exclaimed : " Individual audacity
ought, no doubt, to be repressed ; but that national audacity of which I have
so often set the example, which I have so often shown in the cause of liberty,
is the most meritorious of all the virtues. That audacity is mine. It is that
which I have employed for the republic against the cowards who accuse me.
When I find that I am so basely calumniated, how can I contain myself? It
is not from such a revolutionist as I, that you may expect a cold defence.
Men of my temper are inappreciable in revolutions. Upon their brow is
impressed the spirit of liberty." As he uttered these words, Danton shook
his head and defied the tribunal. His formidable countenance produced a
profound impression. A murmur of approbation escaped from the people,
whom energy always touches. "I," continued Danton, "I accused of hav-
ing conspired with Mirabeau, with Dumouriez, with Orleans, of having
crawled at the feet of vile despots !* I that am summoned to reply to inevit-
able, inflexible justice!] And thou, cowardly St. Just, wilt have to answer
to posterity for thy accusation against the firmest supporter of liberty ! In
going through this catalogue of horrors," added Danton, holding up the act
of accusation, "I feel my whole frame shudder." The president again ex-
horted him to be calm, and reminded him of the example of Marat, who
replied respectfully to the tribunal. Danton resumed, and said that, since it
was desired, he would relate the history of his life. He then related what
* The following anecdote, which is related by M. Bonnet in his work entitled " I .'Art Je
rendre les Revolutions utiles," proves that the suspicions of the committee were not without
some foundation, and that Danton, notwithstanding his incessant boast of patriotism, was no
better than a mere mercenary intriguer : " Soon after the imprisonment of the King, Danton,
wearied of his connexion with Robespierre, came to the resolution of saving the life of Louis
on certain conditions. With this view, he sent a confidential emissary into England with
propositions for the King's deliverance ; but they were not listened to. His agents then con-
trived to communicate his instructions in a more indirect manner to a certain French noble-
man, whom the King had always considered, with justness, as one of those who were most
attached to him. Those who were to save the King would, of course, forfeit all influence in
France, and be obliged to leave the country. As the price of this double sacrifice, Danton
proposed that a sum of money, sufficient to secure the riecessary votes, should be deposited in
tne hands of a banker in London, payable to the persons whom he should specify, under this
express condition, that no part of it should be exigible till the King was in safety in a neutral
territory. The nobleman to whom this plan was communicated was bound in honour to
give it his countenance and support, and, accordingly he corresponded with several of his
friends, with the view of recommending it to the belligerent powers. All, however, waa in
vain." E.
f Expressions of the act of accusation.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 453
difficulty he had had in attaining to the municipal functions, the efforts made
by the Constituents to prevent him, the resistance which he opposed to the
designs of Mirabeau, and above ajl, what he did on that famous day, when,
surrounding the royal carriage with an immense concourse of people, he pre-
vented the journey to St. Cloud. He then referred to his conduct when he
led the people to the Champ de Mars to sign a petition against royalty, and
the motive of that celebrated petition ; to the boldness with which he first
proposed the overthrow of the throne in 92 ; to the courage with which he
proclaimed the insurrection on the evening of the 9th of August ; and to the
firmness which he displayed during the twelve hours of that insurrection.
Choked with indignation at the thought of the allegation that he had hid
himself on the 10th of August, " Where," he exclaimed, "are the men who
had occasion to urge Danton to sqow himself on that day ? Where are the
privileged beings from whom he borrowed energy ? Let my accusers stand
forward ! I am in my sober senses when I call for them. I will expose
the three downright knaves who have surrounded and ruined Robespierre.
Let them come forward here, and I will plunge them into that nothingness
from which they ought never to have emerged." The president would have
again interrupted him, and rang his bell. Danton drowned the sound of it
with his terrible voice. " Do you not hear me ?" asked the president. " The
voice of a man who is defending his honour and his life," replied Danton,
"must overpower the sound of thy bell." Wearied, however, from indig-
nation, his voice began to falter. The president then begged him respect-
fully to rest himself, that he might resume his defence with more calmness
and tranquillity.
Danton was silent, and the tribunal passed on to Camille, whose Vieux
Cordelier was read, and who remonstrated in vain against the interpretation
put upon his writings. Lacroix was next brought forward. His conduct in
Belgium was severely animadverted on. Lacroix, after the example of Dan-
ton, demanded the appearance of several members of the Convention, and
made a formal application to obtain it.
This first sitting had excited a general sensation. The concourse of peo-
ple surrounding the Palace of Justice and extending to the bridges had mani-
fested extraordinary emotion. The judges were frightened. Vadier,* Vou-
land, and Amar, the most malignant members of the committee of general
safety, had watched the proceedings, concealed in the printing-office conti-
guous to the hall of the tribunal, communicating with it by means of a small
loop-hole. There they had witnessed with alarm the boldness of Danton
and the dispositions of the public. They began to doubt whether condemna-
tion was possible. Herman and Fouquier had repaired, as soon as the
court broke up, to the committee of public welfare, and communicated to it
the application of the accused, who demanded the appearance of several
members of the Convention. The committee began to hesitate. Robes-
pierre had gone home. Billaud and St. Just alone were present. They
forbade Fouquier to reply, enjoined him to prolong the proceedings, to let
the three days elapse without coming to any explanation, and then to make
the jurors declare themselves sufficiently informed.
* " Vadier, a lawyer, was an ardent Jacobin, but without abilities, and ridiculous on ac-
count of his accent In 1792 he was appointed deputy to the Convention, where he voted
for the King's death. In 1794 he successively defended and abandoned the party of Hebert
and Danton. After the fall of Robespierre, whom he denounced with severity, Vadier was
condemned to transportation, but contrived to make his escape. In 1 799 the consular govern-
ment restored him to his rights as a citizen." — Biographic Moderne. E.
454 HISTORY OF THE
While these things were passing at the tribunal, at the committee, and in
Paris, there was not less commotion in the prisons, where a deep interest
was felt for the accused, and where no hopes were seen for any one if such
revolutionists were sacrificed. In the Luxembourg was confined the unfor-
tunate Dillon, the friend of Desmoulins, and defended by him. He had
learned from Chaumette, who, involved in the same danger, made common
cause with the moderates, what had passed at the tribunal. Chaumette had
heard it from his wife. Dillon, a hot-headed man, and who, like an old
soldier, sometimes sought in wine a relief under his troubles, talked incon-
siderately to a man named Laflotte, who was confined in the same prison.
He said that it was high time for the good republicans to raise their heads
against vile oppressors ; that the people seemed to be awaking ; that Dan ton
insisted on replying before the committees ; that his condemnation was far
from being insured; that the wife of Camille-Desmoulins might raise the
people by distributing assignats : and that, if he himself should contrive to
escape, he would collect resolute men enough to save the republicans who
were on the point of being sacrificed by the tribunal. These were but
empty words, uttered under the influence of wine and vexation. There ap-
pears, however, to have been an intention to send a thousand crowns and a
letter to Camille's wife. The base Laflotte, thinking to obtain his life and
liberty by denouncing the plot, hastened to the keeper of the Luxembourg,
and made a declaration in which he alleged that a conspiracy was ready to
break out within and without the prisons, for the purpose of liberating the
accused and murdering the members of the two committees. We shall pre-
sently see what use was made of this fatal deposition.
On the following day, the concourse at the tribunal was as great as before.
Danton and his colleagues, equally firm and obstinate, still insisted on the
appearance of several members of the Convention and of the two committees.
Fouquier, pressed to reply, said that he did not oppose the summoning of
necessary witnesses. But, added the accused, it was not sufficient that he
threw no obstacle in the way, he ought himself to summon them. He re-
plied that he would summon all who should be pointed out to him, excepting
those who belonged to the Convention, as it was for that assembly to decide
whether its members could be cited. The accused again complained that
they were refused the means of defending themselves. The tumult was at
its height. The president examined some more of the accused — Wester-
mann, the two Freys, and Gusman, and hastened to put an end to the
sitting.
Fouquier immediately wrote to the committee, to inform it of what had
passed, and to inquire in what way he was to reply to the demands of the
accused. The situation was difficult, and every one began to hesitate. Ro-
bespierre affected not to give any opinion. St. Just alone, more bold and more
decided, thought that they ought not to recede ; that they ought to stop the
mouths of the accused, and send them to death. At this moment he received
the deposition of the prisoner Laflotte, addressed to the police by the keeper
of the Luxembourg. St. Just found in it the germ of a conspiracy hatched
by the accused, and a pretext for a decree that should put an end to the strug-
gle between them and the tribunal. Accordingly, on the following morning,
he addressed the Convention, and declared that a great danger threatened the
country, but that this was the last, and, if boldly met, it would soon be sur-
mounted. "The accused," said he, " now before the revolutionary tribunal,
are in open revolt ; they threaten the tribunal ; they carry their insolence so
far as to throw balls made of crumbs of bread in the faces of the judges ;
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 455
tney excite and may even mislead the people. But this is not all. They
have framed a conspiracy in the prisons. Camille's wife has been furnished
with money to piovoke an insurrection ; General Dillon is to break out of
the Luxembourg, 10 put himself at the head of a number of conspirators, to
slaughter the two committees, and to liberate the culprits." At this hypocriti-
cal and false statement, the complaisant portion of the Assembly cried out
that it was horrible, and the Convention unanimously voted the decree pro-
posed by St. Just. By virtue of this decree, the tribunal was to continue,
without breaking up, the trial of Danton and his accomplices; and it was
authorized to deny the privilege of pleading to such of the accused as should
show any disrespect to the court, or endeavour to excite disturbance. A
copy of the decree was immediately despatched. Vouland and Vadier car-
ried it to the tribunal, where the third sitting had begun, and where the re-
doubled boldness of the accused threw Fouquier into the greatest embar-
rassment.
On the third day, in fact, the accused had resolved to renew their applica-
tion for summonses. They all rose at once, and urged Fouquier to send for
the witnesses whom they had demanded. They required more. They in-
sisted that the Convention should appoint a commission to receive the denun-
ciations which they had to make against the scheme of dictatorship which
manifested itself in the committees. Fouquier, perplexed, knew not what
answer to give. At that moment a messenger came to call him out. On
stepping into the adjoining room, he found Amar and Vauland, who still
quite out of breath, said to him, " We have the villains fast. Here is what
will relieve you from your embarrassment." With these words, they put
into his hands the decree just passed at the instigation of St. Just. Fouquier
look it with joy, returned to the court, begged permission to speak, and read
the decree. Danton indignantly rose. " I call this audience to witness,"
said he, "that we have not insulted the tribunal." — "That is true," cried
several voices in the hall. The whole assembly was astonished, nay even
indignant, at the denial of justice to the accused. The emotion was general.
The tribunal was intimidated. " The truth," added Danton, " will one day
be known. — I see great calamities ready to burst upon France. — There is
the dictatorship. It exhibits itself without veil or disguise." Camille, on
hearing what was said concerning the Luxembourg, Dillon, and his wife,
exclaimed in despair, "The villains! not content with murdering me, they
are determined to murder my wife !" Danton perceived at the farther end
of the hall and in the corridor, Amar and Vouland, who were lurking about,
to judge of the effect produced by the decree. He shook his fist at them.
"Look," said he, "at those cowardly assassins; they follow us; they will
not leave us so long as we are alive!" Vadier and Vouland sneaked off in
affright. The tribunal, instead of replying, put an end to the sitting.
The next was the fourth day, and the jury was empowered to put an end
to the pleadings by declaring itself sufficiently informed. Accordingly,
without giving the accused time to defend themselves, the jury demanded the
closing of the proceedings. Camille was furious. He declared to the jury
that they were murderers, and called the people to witness this iniquity. He
and his companions in misfortune were then taken out of the hall. He re-
sisted, and was dragged away by force. Meanwhile, Vadier and Vouland
talked warmly to the jurors, who, however, needed no exciting. Herman
the president, and Fouquier followed them into their hall. Herman had the
audacity to tell them that a letter going abroad had been intercepted, proving
that Danton was implicated with the coalition. Three or four of the jurors
456 HISTORY OF THE
only durst support the accused, but they were overborne by the majority.
Trinchard, the foreman of the jury, returned full of a ferocious joy, and,
with an exulting air, pronounced the unjust condemnation.
The court would not run the risk of a new explosion of the condemned
by bringing them back from the prison to. the hall of the tribunal to hear
their sentence : a clerk, therefore, went down to read it to them. They
sent him away without suffering him to finish, desiring to be led to death
immediately. When the sentence was once passed, Danton, before boiling
with indignation, became calm, and displayed all his former contempt for
his adversaries. Camille, soon appeased, shed a few tears for his wife, and,
in his happy improvidence, never conceived that she, too, was threatened
with death, an idea that would have rendered his last moments insupporta-
ble. Herault was gay, as usual. All the accused were firm, and Wester-
mann proved himself worthy of the high reputation which he had acquired
for intrepidity.
They were executed on the 16th of Germinal (5th of April.*) The infa-
mous rabble, paid to insult the victims, followed the carts. At the sight,
Camille, filled with indignation, addressed the multitude, and poured forth a
torrent of the most vehement imprecations against the cowardly and hypo-
critical Robespierre. The wretches employed to insult him replied by
gross abuse. In the violence of his action he had torn his shirt, so that his
shoulders were bare. Danton, casting a calm and contemptuous look on the
mob, said to Camille, "Be quiet; take no notice of this vile rabble." On
reaching the foot of the scaffold, Danton was going to embrace Herault-
Sechelles, who extended his arms towards him, but was prevented by the
executioner, to whom he addressed, with a smile, these terrible expressions :
" What ! canst thou then be more cruel than death ? At any rate, thou
canst not prevent our heads from embracing presently at the bottom of the
basket."
Such was the end of Danton who had shed so great a lustre upon the
Revolution, and been so serviceable to it. Bold, ardent, greedy of excite-
ment and pleasure, he had eagerly thrown himself into the career of dis-
turbance, and he was more especially qualified to shine in the days of ter-
ror.t Prompt and decisive, not to be staggered either by the difficulty or
by the novelty of an extraordinary situation, he was capable of judging of
the necessary means, and had neither fear nor scruple about any. He con-
ceived that it had become necessary to put an end to the struggle between
the monarchy and the revolution, and he effected the 10th of August. In
presence of the Prussians, he deemed it necessary to overawe France, and
to engage her in the system of the revolution. He, therefore, it is said,
• " Thus perished the tardy but last defenders of humanity, of moderation ; the last who
wished for peace between the conquerors of the Revolution, and mercy to the vanquished.
After them, no voice was heard for some time against the Dictatorship of Terror. It struck its
silent and reiterated blows from one end of France to the other. The Girondins had wished
to prevent this violent reign, the Dantonists to stop it; all perished ; and the more enemies
the rulers counted, the more victims they had to despatch." — Mignet. E.
j- " Danton's revolutionary principles were well known. To abstain from a crime, neces-
sary or barely useful, he reputed weakness; but to prolong crimes beyond necessity, never to
enjoy the reward, and ever to continue their slave, excited equally his contempt and indigna-
tion. Terror, indeed, was his system ; but he thought of securing its effects with a sword
suspended, not incessantly plunged into the breast of a victim. He preferred a massacre to
a long succession of executions." — LacrcttUe. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 457
brought about the horrible days of September,* andj in so doing, saved a
great number of victims. At the beginning of the great year 1793, when
the Convention was alarmed at the sight of all Europe in arms, he uttered
these remarkable words, with a full comprehension of all their depth : " A
nation in revolution is more likely to conquer its neighbours than to be con-
quered by them." He was aware that twenty-five millions of men, whom
the government should dare to set in motion, would have nothing to fear
from the few hundred thousand armed by the thrones. He proposed to
raise the whole population, and to make the rich pay. He devised, in short,
all the revolutionary measures which left such terrible mementoes, but which
saved France. This man, so mighty in action, fell in the interval between
dangers into indolence and dissipation, which he had always been fond of.
He sought, too, the most innocent pleasures, such pleasures as the country,
an adored wife, and friends, afforded. He then forgot the vanquished, he
ceased to hate them, he could even do them justice, pity, and defend them.
But, during these intervals of repose, necessary for his ardent spirit, his
rivals won by assiduity the renown and the influence which he had gained
in the day of peril. The fanatics reproached him with his mildness and his
good nature, forgetting that, in point of political cruelty, he had equalled
them all in the days of September. While he trusted to his renown, while
he delayed acting from indolence, and was meditating noble plans for restoring
mild laws, for limiting the days of violence to the days of danger, for sepa-
rating the exterminators irrevocably steeped in blood from the men who had
only yielded to circumstances ; finally, for organizing France and recon-
ciling her with Europe, he was surprised by his colleagues to whom he had
relinquished the government. The latter, in striking a blow at the ultra-
revolutionists, deemed it incumbent on them, that they might not appear to
retrograde, to aim another at the moderates. Policy demanded victims ;
envy selected them, and sacrificed the most celebrated and the most dreaded
man of the day. Danton fell, with his reputation and his services, before
the formidable government which he had contributed to organize ; but, at
least, by his boldness, he rendered his fall for a moment doubtful.
Danton had a mind uncultivated, indeed, but great, profound, and, above
all, simple and solid. It was for emergencies only that he employed it, and
never for the purpose of shining : he therefore spoke little, and disdained to
write. According to a contemporary, he had no* pretension, not even that
of guessing what he was ignorant of — a pretension so common with men of
his metal. He listened to Fabre d' Eglantine, and was never tired of hear-
ing his young and interesting friend, Camille-Desmoulins, in whose wit he
delighted, and whom he had the pain to bear down in his fall. He died
with his wonted fortitude, and communicated it to his young companion.
Like Mirabeau, he expired proud of himself, and considering his faults and
his life sufficiently covered by his great services and his last projects.
The leaders of the two parties had now been sacrificed. The remnant of
these parties soon shared the same fate ; and men of the most opposite sen-
timents were mingled and tried together, to give greater currency to the
notion that they were accomplices in one and the same plot. Chaumette
and Gobel appeared by the side of Arthur Dillon and Simon. The Gram-
monts, father and son, the Lapallus, and other members of the revolutionary
• Mercier, in his " New Picture of Paris," accuses Danton of having prepared the massa-
cres of September, and Prudhomme devotes twenty pages of his " History of Crimes" to
conversations and papers, which prove with what frightful unconcern this terrible demagogue
arranged everything for those unparalleled murders. E.
vol. ii. — 58 2 Q
458 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
army, were tried with General Beysser ; lastly, Hebert's wife, formerly a
nun, appeared beside the young wife of Camille-Desmoulins, scarcely
twenty-three years of age, resplendent with beauty, grace, and youth.
Chaumette, whom we have seen so docile and so submissive, was accused of
having conspired at the commune against the government, of having starved
the people, and endeavoured to urge it to insurrection by his extravagant
requisitions. Gobel was considered as the accomplice of Anacharsis Clootz
and of Chaumette. Arthur Dillon meant, it was said, to open the prisons
of Paris, and then to slaughter the Convention and the tribunal, in order to
save his friends. The members of the revolutionary army were condemned
as agents of Ronsin. General Beysser, who had so powerfully contributed
to save Nantes along with Canclaux, and who was suspected of federalism,
was regarded as an. accomplice of the ultra-revolutionists. We well know
what approximation could exist between the staff of Nantes and that of
Saumur. Hebert's wife was condemned as an accomplice of her husband.
Seated on the same bench with the wife of Camille, she said to the latter,
"You, at least, are fortunate ; against you there is no charge. You will be
saved." In fact, all that could be alleged against this young woman was,
that she had been passionately fond of her husband, that she had hovered
incessantly with her children about the prison to see their father, and to
point him out to them. Both were, nevertheless, condemned, and the wives
of Hebert and Camille perished as implicated in the same conspiracy. The
unfortunate Desmoulins died with a courage worthy of her husband and of
her virtue.* No victim since Charlotte Corday and Madame Roland had
excited deeper sympathy and more painful regret.
* " The widow of Camille-Desmoulins, young, amiable, and well-informed, during the
mock process which condemned her to death as an accomplice of her husband, loathing life,
and anxious to follow him, displayed a firmness of mind that was seen with admiration,
even by her judges. When she heard the sentence pronounced, she exclaimed, ' I shall then,
in a few hours, again meet my husband !' and then, turning to her judges, she added, ' In
departing from this world, in which nothing now remains to engage my affections, I am far
less the object of pity than you are.' Previous to going to the scaffold she dressed herself
with uncommon attention and taste. Her head-dress was peculiarly elegant; a white gauze
handkerchief, partly covering her beautiful black hair, added to the clearness and brilliancy
of her complexion. Being come to the foot of the scaffold, she ascended the steps with
resignation and even unaffected pleasure. She received the fatal blow without appearing to
have regarded what the executioner was doing." — Du Broca. E.
END OF VOL. II.
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